#what a wonderful thing to see first thing in the morning!!!

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 10 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: After just two days back home, Bradley takes you on a second date. He wants more, and you don't seem to mind when he can't keep his hands and lips to himself.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, language, Bradley being boyfriend material

Length: 5000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

"Shit."

It had been such a long time since Bradley wore anything other than a flight suit, a khaki uniform or gym clothes, he had no idea what he was supposed to wear to dinner tonight. You mentioned weeks ago you thought Italian food sounded nice for a second date, and he agreed wholeheartedly. He managed to snag a table for the two of you at Salvatore's, and he was absolutely prepared to drop over five hundred bucks, but his clothing was becoming a situation.

After spending the entire day with you yesterday, Saturday morning was a bit of a reality check. He was trying to work through three loads of laundry while he sorted through a box of mail. There was nothing sweet in there like the packages you and your class sent to him while he was deployed. It was mostly bills that had already been automatically paid online, mortgage statements, and junk. Then he started folding laundry, somehow expecting some articles of clothing that weren't threadbare tee shirts or tropical print button downs to jump out at him.

"Why don't you have normal clothing?" he asked himself as he picked up his phone now that it was late enough to text you. He wanted to make sure you were okay with grabbing a drink before the dinner reservation which wasn't until 7:45. But when he unlocked his phone, instead of zero new messages, he found a picture you sent seven minutes ago. 

"Oh my god," he groaned softly, dropping onto his bed next to some unfolded laundry. You were in your own bed wearing his favorite sweatshirt and a bright smile.

Good morning, Handsome. Last night felt like a dream, but your sweatshirt is real, so it must have happened.

He scrambled to write back, clothing crisis forgotten. God, he wanted to be in that bed in the worst way. Things would definitely get out of hand pretty quickly, but he knew those first few kisses would be the sweetest things. After last night at the beach, waiting for a few more dates was going to be the challenge of his life, but he wanted you to know he was in this for the long haul. Especially after you mentioned that you thought he may have ghosted you.

Hey, Gorgeous. My sweatshirt looks way better on you than it ever did on me. Did you sleep in it?

He hit send and then wished he hadn't asked that question. He sounded like a horny twenty year old. It was bad enough that he had to practically beg you to go inside your apartment last night while you were kissing his neck, but he didn't want to embarrass himself.

Of course I did. It smells like you. The only thing better would be having you in my bed, too...

How the hell was he supposed to wait until this evening to see you? He tossed his phone aside. His blood felt like it was on fire, and he was sweating. Never before had he wanted to move this fast from a first date to making things official. But he knew you. He'd been working up to this point for months. And the Thai dinner with Prosecco on the beach wasn't really a first date. That felt closer to a reunion with a girlfriend than anything else. The only thing missing for that to have been true was a sleepover instead of him taking you home for the night. 

He was too many steps ahead right now. You hadn't yet done the drive down to Coronado from Mira Mesa for yourself, but he already caught himself wondering if you'd consider moving in with him in the future. "You need to relax," he ground out through gritted teeth. "You'll scare her away." He cracked his neck and forced himself to fold a stack of underwear before picking up his phone to reply.

I don't want to rush things, but your bed does look very comfortable. I'm confident we could get cozy there... You're making me blush. I need to get this conversation back on track. Cocktails before dinner at Salvatore's? I'll pick you up at 5:30?

A few minutes later, you responded with a photo of you still all snuggled up in bed, smiling and giving him a thumbs up in his shirt.

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

"Just in case," you muttered, making sure your bedding was straightened and your room was tidy. You left Bradley's TOP GUN sweatshirt folded on your pillow, but you certainly wouldn't mind having the man himself in your bed tonight. Your fingers and toes tingled when you thought about it. You bit your lip and scooped up his shirt, inhaling his scent one more time before you realized he would be here any minute.

When he knocked on your door, you set it back on your pillow and glanced at yourself in the mirror as you bounced past it. Cocktails and dinner at Salvatore's would have been a major splurge for a night out for you, but Bradley selected the restaurant. All you did was mention Italian food, and he really ran with it. You'd have been happy with some pizza and breadsticks, simply excited he remembered you mentioned Italian food at all, but this called for your littlest black dress and your brightest red lipstick. 

"I'm coming!" you called, going as fast as you could in your black heels, giggling at the double meaning. You had to compose yourself before you could open the door, and when you did, you were met with the actual man of your dreams.

"Hey, Gorgeous." Bradley's crooked little smile faltered a bit as his gaze slid down from your eyes to your lips, but he didn't stop there. He was shamelessly checking you out as a pretty shade of pink crept up into his cheeks, and you did a slow turn for him. 

Your skin felt warm as you met his eyes after doing a full circle. His lips were parted as you whispered, "Hi," and reached for his hand. As soon as your skin met his, he pulled you closer to him. "Bradley." His lips were on yours as he backed you up into your apartment until you softly met the wall behind you. He was big and warm, and you were holding his left hand while his right one came up to your face.

He broke the kiss by tipping your chin up so you were looking at him. "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," he crooned softly. Your lipstick was smudged along his mouth, and his tongue darted out to taste it before he said, "I'm fucking crazy about you."

His rough thumb dragged along your bottom lip as you said, "And you've never even seen me dispose of a spider for you."

"Baby," he rasped. "I'd probably propose."

A shocked giggle escaped you, and his crooked grin was back as he kept you there against your wall with your door wide open. You reached up and ran your fingers along the collar of his oxford shirt before tugging on the fabric until his lips were on yours again. You let your head tip back against the wall as he devoured you, tasting your lips, tongue and teeth before his forehead came to rest gently on yours.

"You know," you gasped, trying to catch your breath, "I thought all your emails were sweet and romantic."

He chuckled as he pulled away from you. "I was hoping I was doing okay in person, too."

You shrugged playfully and tried to spin out of his grasp, but his hand was still wrapped up in yours. He followed you to your coffee table so you could grab your purse as you casually told him, "You're even better in person than I thought you'd be."

"Oh yeah?" he asked, pulling you close again. "You like my stupid looking clothes and how I can eat three meals for dinner?"

He was so endearing, you didn't know how to handle him. So you kissed him again and whispered, "I like all of it." You let your fingers trail along his shirt buttons as you said, "You look nice in this, but I can already tell you're more comfortable in your colorful Aloha shirts and jeans. And I love that you can eat three meals for dinner, because we ended up sharing everything last night."

"Let's go," he coaxed, leading you toward your door. "I'll let you pick whatever you want to try at Salvatore's. I don't usually like sharing my food, but there's just something about you, Gorgeous. You make me feel comfortable."

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

You tried to tell Bradley twice that he still had some of your lipstick smudged on his face, but he just shrugged and said, "Good," in response both times. If he didn't mind, then neither did you. It couldn't be any more obvious that he was with you when the exact color that was on your lips was also on his. You listened to him hum along to the retro oldies station as he merged onto the coastal highway while you took a minute to fix up your own smudged lipstick.

He grinned over at you as you put your makeup away and said, "Come on, Baby. If you didn't want it on my face, then you wouldn't be putting more on your lips."

Every time he made a bold statement like that, you wanted to cancel dinner altogether and take him to your bedroom. "I never said I didn't want it on your face. It looks good." 

He reached out blindly for your hand, and you grabbed his immediately. "You did tell me you wanted me to kiss you as soon as I saw you."

"Yeah," you muttered. "Don't stop doing that." You knew things with him were going to get physical pretty quickly, but you'd never been quite this attracted to someone before. You drew little shapes on his palm as you asked, "How was your first night back in your own bed after so many months away?"

He groaned softly. "Epic. Fantastic. I don't fit very well in an extra long twin bed."

"No, I would imagine you don't," you said with a laugh as you watched him drive his Bronco in the evening sunlight.

He licked his lips and grinned as he said, "Would have been better if you were there though."

The eruption of butterflies in your belly left you biting your lip. You wanted to respond, but you needed to be able to make it through dinner before you were hanging off of him again like you were last night. That's when he brought your hand up to his lips and kissed your knuckles, treating you to his mustache there. "Feel like getting a drink or two in the lounge first? Maybe a bottle of wine?"

"Mmhmm," you hummed, ready to go anywhere he took you. As soon as he parked, he jogged around to help you down, letting you slide against his body with your hands on his shoulders. You wobbled a bit in your shoes, but he kept you steady.

"You good?" he asked as he leaned in, his lips brushing the side of your neck as his arm wrapped around your waist.

"So good," you promised. "Never better."

Bradley kept his hand right there on your hip as he led you along the sidewalk toward the restaurant. The lounge was packed; this was definitely a popular weekend date night locale. Couples filled the space with noisy conversation, but you could hear Bradley perfectly as his lips found your ear when he said, "There's an empty stool at the far end of the bar." He gave your hip a little squeeze as you headed for it, and he leaned on the bar next to you. "Why don't you pick out a bottle of wine or whatever you want? I'll go let the hostess know we'll be hanging out in the lounge."

When you agreed, he kissed your lips like the two of you had been at this for years, not just since yesterday. You weren't the only one who watched him walk away in his snug pants and Oxford shirt that somehow showed off his biceps. He was just that good looking. When you saw him without a shirt on, you'd probably faint and need him to revive you. When the bartender came over, you were chuckling to yourself at the idea of having sex with Bradley while he kept his shirt on to save you from that fate.

"Can I get you a drink?"

You looked at him in a daze, realizing you meant to choose a bottle of wine. You blurted out what kind you liked best, and with a nod and a smile, he turned to fill your request. And that's when you finally looked at the menu and realized the bottle was more than a hundred and fifty dollars.

"Oh shit." But it was too late. He had already opened it and was heading your way with it. You scrambled in your purse for your wallet, cringing at the idea of Bradley seeing the bill when you could have simply ordered a cocktail instead. Just as the bartender was pouring out a bit of the wine for you to try, you found your credit card successfully. And that was also when Bradley came back.

"They'll come get us when our table's ready," he said. "I told them it would be easy to find me since my date is the most beautiful woman in the restaurant." He watched the bartender pick up a second glass and said, "Oh perfect, you found some wine that you like."

You nodded and tried your best to pass your credit card across the bar undetected with your hand covering it. "I sure did."

Bradley's eyes followed your hand as he took a sip of the wine. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," you told him, picking up your own glass with your other hand. You tasted the wine and nodded at the bartender, and then he filled up both glasses while Bradley reached for your credit card.

"That's not necessary, Gorgeous. You can put that away."

You waited until the bartender walked off before you shook your head. "Let me pay for the wine. I was distracted and just picked a random bottle before I looked at the price, and then it was too late because he already had it opened. It's expensive."

Bradley looked completely unfazed as he eased your card from your hand and tucked it back into your wallet. "I don't care about that."

"I do," you said softly in your embarrassment. "I don't want you to think that's what I expected."

Bradley laughed in response. "First of all, I would never think that. And second, I was on that aircraft carrier for so long, and this wine tastes so good, and you look so pretty... I don't even want to tell you how much I'd be willing to pay for that bottle of wine and our dinner."

You simultaneously felt better and a little warm. "Okay, fine. But next time we go out for dinner, we're getting burgers from In-N-Out, and I'm paying."

His smile grew as you sipped your wine which really was quite good. "So that means you want to go out again?"

You rolled your eyes up at him where he stood, his hand brushing your knee where it was crossed over your other leg. "I'm about to make an In-N-Out reservation right now."

"Perfect," he replied. "Which night? I have to work late a few days next week to get caught up on everything I missed while I was away."

"You're ridiculous," you told him with a laugh. "How about Wednesday?"

His fingers toyed with the hem of your dress as he said, "Wednesday's good. You also need to let me know when I can visit your classroom again." His words were so sweet, and his gaze was sincere, but the feel of his fingertips inching along your skin above your knee was something else. 

You set your glass down next to your purse and reached for his hand, letting his fingers slip underneath your dress as you met his brown eyes. When he teased your skin with his rough hands, you reached for his shirt, and Bradley came willingly. Salvatore's didn't provide the two of you with the same level of privacy as the beach last night had, but you didn't really care, and he didn't seem to either.

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

You had the softest skin. How was he supposed to keep his hands off you? And that red lipstick made your little pout when he teased you even more delectable than he could have imagined. And he'd been doing plenty of imagining for the last few months. He'd imagined you in a variety of scenarios with him, but so far being with you in person surpassed everything his vivid thoughts came up with.

When he mentioned visiting you at work, you treated him to the silky soft feel of your skin, and then you literally grabbed the front of his shirt and tugged until he was kissing you. Oh god, he was never going to recover from this. He had to wrap his hand around the middle of your thigh to keep himself from going any further as you moaned softly into his mouth. He was absolutely starving and a little dizzy from the wine, but he was thinking about skipping dinner in favor of the solitude of the Bronco right now.

"Mr. Bradshaw?"

Your tongue was slowly tasting his when you jerked away from him as the hostess strolled over. Embarrassed, you turned toward the bar as Bradley grunted in response at the young woman who told him the table was ready for the two of you. And maybe that wasn't a bad thing, because feeling you up in the middle of the crowded lounge wasn't something he'd feel good about later. At least not on the second date. He'd bring you back here in a few months and see if the two of you even made it to dinner.

With a smile, he reached for your free hand after you picked up your glass. You halfway hid your face against his bicep as the hostess picked up the bottle and led the way through the lounge and into the restaurant. Bradley kissed your forehead and murmured, "If I could keep my hands off of you, this wouldn't be a problem."

You peered up at him through your lashes. "Hanging out on your couch alone is sounding better and better."

"Fuck," he groaned softly as you released his hand and took a seat at the table set for two which was overlooking the bay. Bradley pushed your chair in, and his thumbs met your bare arms. He took a few deep breaths before taking the seat opposite yours and accepted one of the menus as he listened to the specials while he looked at your face. He muttered some sort of response, and then the two of you were alone.

You emptied the remainder of the wine between his glass and yours, and then Bradley watched you lick a little droplet from your thumb as you smiled at him. "So which three dinners are you planning on ordering tonight?"

It took him a second to realize that he was holding an open menu even though he hadn't looked at it once. He cleared his throat and said, "Definitely some homemade spaghetti and meatballs. The last time I ate spaghetti, it was overcooked and sad, and I had to go back to my bunk and think about you to make myself feel better." You covered your mouth with one hand while you laughed, and it was the most charming thing he'd ever seen. "I'm so serious, Gorgeous. I got a plate of soggy noodles, and literally the only thing that made it better was imagining you teaching your class about military grade jets and aviation."

Your pretty eyes were glittering as you told him, "I keep extending my lessons on the topic, and you are completely to blame for that. After the first time you responded to us, my students asked about you every single day. They are completely enamored with you."

"Yeah? Just them? Or you too?" He knew his words were reminiscent of the way you'd tried to blame it on your kids when you asked him to send you a picture so you could see what he looked like.

"Hmm." You pretended to peruse your menu. "I'm thinking about the ravioli. Or maybe the penne with vodka sauce." Your foot tapped his leg beneath the table, and he had to fight the urge to reach under and touch your skin again. You were teasing him in every way right now, and he was absolutely loving it. When the waiter dropped off glasses of water and some freshly baked bread, he asked if you wanted anything else to drink.

"You want another bottle of wine, Gorgeous?" Bradley asked, deciding to tease you right back.

"Absolutely not," you told him, looking at him like he had two heads before kindly telling the waiter, "No, thank you."

He was still laughing when he picked up a piece of bread. "So we'll get spaghetti, penne and ravioli?"

"You don't have to order what I want," you told him, your foot still running along his calf while your expression dripped with innocence.

"No. I want to though." It was kind of fun spoiling you with something as simple as dinner. Vanessa would have made a comment by now about how much she hated the slightly kitschy, over the top restaurant, even if the food was supposed to be immaculate. You didn't seem to mind one bit that he ordered three massive entrees and intended to finish whatever you didn't. Vanessa always got embarrassed, but all you said was that you were excited to try all three.

There was never a lull in conversation. You actually listened to Bradley when he was talking, and he could have listened to you all night.

"So you know how last night I mentioned... that I'd never really thought about dating someone in the military who deploys for work?"

"Yeah," Bradley rasped, not sure he loved where the conversation was heading.

You looked a little apprehensive as you said, "I was thinking about it more last night after you dropped me off." 

"And?"

You kind of shrugged and said, "I think I'd actually be okay with it, as long as it's you. It almost feels like we got some big, scary thing out of the way already, you know? And I could always write to you, because I kind of loved doing that. And yes, Bradley, I am also completely enamored with you."

It was almost a shame that the food arrived then, because as you started to cut into an enormous ravioli, all he could think to say was, "I'm completely enamored with you, too."

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

You were so full from dinner, you didn't know how Bradley could walk. He ate at least two times what you did, and then he insisted on ordering a piece of cheesecake. When you caught sight of the bill, you tried not to gasp, because it was more than you spend on groceries for a whole month. But he handed over his credit card and signed his name without even breaking conversation with you. And now you were discreetly grabbing a handful of mints on your way out of the restaurant as he held your hand.

It was late, and you knew he was still tired. He mentioned briefly that he had a lot of chores to do this week amidst some late nights at work, but you didn't know how you'd be able to wait until Wednesday to see him again. When he started up the Bronco and headed in the direction of your apartment, your mind flooded with questions, but he asked you one first.

"I already have plans tomorrow, but I don't think I can wait until Wednesday to see you again. What time do you usually get to school?"

"7:20."

"Okay. And what kind of coffee do you like?"

You couldn't stop smiling as you told him what you usually ordered on the rare occasion you had time to stop at Starbucks. You kind of already felt like he was spoiling you.

"Have you memorized everything I've ever told you?"

"Yep," he replied, his handsome smile evident in the street lights. "And I've gotta say, you're one of a kind, Gorgeous."

You honestly didn't want the ride to end. The fact that there was no buffer of traffic to add to the twenty minute drive made you pout a little bit. Bradley's deep voice layered over the music playing on the radio while he held your hand was intoxicating, but you made a disappointed sound as he parked in front of your building.

When he released your hand to kill the engine in the near darkness, all you could see was his handsome profile. "You thought the drive would be too much for me," you whispered. "But when I'm in the car with you, I don't want it to end."

He cleared his throat and softly said, "Well, we don't have to get out quite yet if you don't want to."

Your pout turned into a grin as you unbuckled your seatbelt. "I can tell you still need to catch up on some sleep. I don't want to keep you out too late, Bradley."

He chuckled and undid his own seatbelt. "Why don't you come a little closer and say my name again."

As you eased yourself onto your hands and knees, you scooted across the seat and whispered, "Bradley," with a little laugh.

"Closer?" he asked, and you crawled over to him until you were able to kiss his cheek.

"Bradley."

He turned his head so his lips met yours, and he whispered, "Closer," against your mouth.

You were immediately in his lap, your hands resting on his chest as the steering wheel met your lower back. Your lips found his scarred cheek just like last night, and you kissed your way along his mustache and the side of his nose. You let your hands drift slowly down over his abs until they met the leather of his belt, and you whispered his name one more time.

His big hands closed around your wrists as he groaned, "You really love teasing me."

You nodded and said, "I really do," as he guided your hands up to his shoulders and around his neck.

"You're really good at it, Baby. All those pictures of you in your bed are enough to get a man through a deployment and then promptly kill him once he's on dry land if he can't touch you immediately."

He kissed the inside of your arm, and you scooted your body a little closer to his. "You can touch me." Your words elicited a deep groan as he slid his big hands along your bare arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He kissed your lips, swiping his tongue against yours as his fingers trailed down your sides. You almost cried out when his thumbs grazed the sides of your breasts before he gently squeezed your waist and your hips.

You could invite him to stay over. You didn't think he'd turn you down if you did. But all you could manage to say was, "Bradley," between kisses.

He tipped his head back against the headrest and whispered, "I love the way that sounds." His eyes were glittering in the darkness as he looked at your face and your body, and you remembered his text message from earlier.

I don't want to rush things

It was hard for you to remember that yesterday in your classroom was the first time you touched him. The first time you heard his voice in person. As much as you wanted to lean in close and ask him to stay, instead you kissed his ear and said, "You promised me movie night on your couch. When?"

"Friday?" he asked, kissing along your neck. "Let me end the week with my Gorgeous girl?"

"Yes."

You were afraid you were going to melt right out onto the pavement when he opened his door, but he helped you down and kept his arm wrapped around you. Bradley walked a half step behind you in the darkness all the way to your apartment. While there was no expectation that he was going to join you inside, you ended up pinned against your door, because it didn't seem like he was quite ready to leave yet either. 

He was eager. You could feel it as his lips found your neck again. He smiled against you as he whispered your name in that deep raspy voice. "Since you don't like surprises, I'm telling you right now that you should expect to see me in the parking lot at your school on Monday morning. Sound okay?"

"Oh god, yes," you whined as he released you. There were so many things you wanted to tell him as he put a foot of space between your bodies, really giving you a chance to see his pink cheeks and the way he was breathing deeply. You blurted out, "I'm falling so hard for you."

His crooked little grin was back as he nodded at your door. "Lock it behind you. And when you get in bed, in my sweatshirt, send me another selfie."

"I will," you promised, and you did exactly what he said. A minute after you texted the photo, you got a message back from him.

I think I'm falling even harder.

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

I'm so obsessed with them. She was so concerned about that bottle of wine! And he really wasn't lol. Coffee and burgers and a couch date coming up. This story will be 18+ soon. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

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#bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #rooster x you #rooster fanfiction #rooster fic #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x female reader #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #roosterforme #yours truly bradley bradshaw

[surielstea]

Wrapping Wounds

1k celebration request

Pairing: Bodyguard!Azriel x Princess!Reader

Summary: Azriel gets hurt and reader feels guilty, so she visits his bedroom and doesn’t plan on leaving until he’s healed.

Warnings: mention of attempted kidnapping (it’s all fluff though)

1.8k words

My bodyguard was injured. Which is a surprisingly unusual occurrence. Azriel never got hurt, so it was a shock when I opened my bedroom door this morning only to find the grand hallway vacant, void of any brooding male guarding anyone from entering my bedroom. He was always there to greet me with a slight nod of his head, his shadows bringing me a cup of coffee before I could even mutter a word.

Instead, this morning I was met with an entirely different face, one I recognized but hadn't been expecting.

"Where's Azriel?" Is the first thing I say to Cassian, an equally intimidating male.

"He's injured at the moment, I'll be guarding you today." Cassian's words were dutiful and I can't help but frown. I loved Cass, sure, but I couldn't help but wonder why Azriel was hurt.

"So he's in the medical tents still healing?" I ask, stepping from my bedroom and closing the door behind me.

"I believe he's in his bedroom, but you're not allowed—" He starts but he doesn't get to finish before I winnow out of his sight and straight into Azriel's bedroom.

It was wrong to use my abilities against Cassian who was incapable of winnowing but it wasn't as if I was breaking any rules, just visiting an injured friend.

Azriel was sitting on his bed, currently rewrapping a wound on his abdomen.

"You can't be in here," Azriel stated without even taking a glance up at me, yet he still knew. I had to hold back from rolling my eyes at his absurd comment.

"I've been in a male's bedroom before," I scoff but he and I both knew that wasn't what he was talking about. We had been toeing the line of unspoken feelings for far too long now, mere inches away from being more than just professionals but he refused to cross that line and didn't want to drag me with him either.

I gather my skirts in my hands and close the distance between us, crouching down beside him and taking over his job of dressing his own wound, replacing his calloused, scarred hands with my manicured, delicate ones.

"You're not paid enough to get stabbed on my behalf," I grumble beneath my breath, my hair falling into my face as I focus on keeping pressure on the wound.

"Is everything about money to you, princess?" He teased and I just huffed, flicking my gaze up at him in a glare. He mirrors it with a quirk of his lip.

"Nevertheless, I'm making my brother give you a raise," I claim, looking back down to the gauze in my hands, deciding to look into his hazel eyes was too much to bear if I could not have them on me at all times. "Tell me what happened," I say, my words coming out more demanding than I anticipated but I was frustrated with myself for falling so damned hard for someone who was simply paid to be around me.

"So demanding," He grumbles, craning his neck to the side as if he needed to stretch, already tired from this conversation. "All you need to know is that some guys were trying to, take you last night," He gritted out like it was hard for him to stomach, but I brushed it off as the pain from his wound. "And I wasn't going to let them," He finished and I frowned, keeping my eyes pinned to the wrap in my hands as I tightly secured it with a clasp.

"It doesn't hurt too much, does it?" I say, looking up at him. He reaches towards me, his large calloused hand coming to my jaw and then pushing a lock of my hair away from my face.

"It's sweet that you're worried about me, but I’m kind of paid to be your bodyguard." He looks down at me with a stoic expression, a hint of devotion wandering behind his gaze.

“You don’t have to remind me,” I mumble, looking away from his gaze and down to his wound, the one that’s my fault. "If I was there, I would've offered myself rather than see you get hurt," I confess and his brows form a line, an angry frown pulling at his lips.

"Don't say that," He uttered. "No one will ever deserve you, no matter how good of a fight they put up." He claims and a comforting warmth blooms in the depths of my chest. I swallow, rising fully but still having to look up at him.

"I think you put up a pretty good fight," I shrug suggestively and he shakes his head.

"I'm protecting you because it's my job, it's just business princess." He claims and I roll my eyes and sling my arms over his shoulders, which he doesn't back away from.

"Nuh-uh, admit it, you like me," I taunt with a smile spreading over my lips, able to read him like an open book as the corner of his lip twitches downward, a clear indicator that he was debating if he should say something he knew he’d later regret.

"You're technically not working right now, we wouldn't be breaking any rules," I add and he only gazes down at me with a faux pitiful look in his eyes, like a rich man too selfish to donate to my charity.

"I don't think that's how it works." He blinks ever so slowly, taking all of this moment in.

"Az," I huff, walking my fingers down his bare chest.

"Princess," He mocks my tone, catching my wrist in his hand before it could get too low. "Cassian will be in here any second," He gestures for me to step backward with a jerk of his head. I wrap my hands around the back of his neck instead, rebelling his commands and doing the exact opposite. But he didn't push me away, and he didn't complain when I slowly situated myself over his lap.

"Please," I utter, begging was foreign to me but I'd do it if it meant he'd finally just let me love him.

"Please, what?" He plays dumb and this time I do actually roll my eyes, one of my hands going into his hair.

"Please, can you just stop being my bodyguard for five seconds and be my boyfriend?" I mumble and a smile pulls at the corner of his lips.

"It's kind of a package deal," He shrugs, his eyes glinting with amusement, silently laughing at my frustration.

"My gods, just kiss me already," I sigh and a rare grin grows over his features, revealing dimples.

"Always, so demanding," He muttered while leaning in, cupping my jaw in his large hand and pulling me into him.

Our lips connect like the last two pieces of a puzzle I've been working on for years, slotting together perfectly. His other hand was slipping up the slit in my pastel dress, resting at my upper thigh, gripping it occasionally and I can't help but smile at his lips at the action.

He slips his tongue into my mouth at the first opportunity he gets, craving to taste me further than just my lips. I wrap my arms tighter around the back of my neck, attempting to press myself as close as possible, needing the proximity of his warmth more than anything else.

He winced, biting slightly at my bottom lip in silent warning and I realized I pressed against his wound.

"Sorry," I murmur as he moves away from my lips and towards my jaw, kissing a trail down it all the way to my neck.

"We should probably stop," Azriel murmured as if he wasn't the one sucking hickeys to my neck and holding me down with his hand on my thigh.

"Probably," I say, slightly breathless as I recover from the pain of him pulling away from my lips. "I don't want to go," I sigh. "I'm safe in here with you, I don't need any other bodyguard," I explain and he smiles against my neck at my words, kissing the area softly.

A knock on the door makes me jump but he barely flinched, pulling away from my neck and looking at where he had been sucking, admiring the forming mark like an artist staring at their canvas.

"I have an idea, hide behind the door." He gestures to the door and I nod with a cheeky grin, scrambling off his lap and to where he told me to go.

"Az, you in there?" Cassian's voice was heard through the door.

Instead of replying, Azriel simply swung the door open with a tired smile. From my position, I could still see Azriel, but I was out of Cassian's line of sight— unless, of course, he decided to enter the room.

"Is the Princess in here?" I can hear the slight panic in Cassian's voice but Azriel doesn't falter when he replies.

"You already lost her?" The male scoffed, slightly amused.

"It's not my fault, she saw I wasn't you and winnowed away. I figured she'd be with you." I couldn't see the male but I knew his brows were bunched. I sort of felt bad for the male, I debated telling him I was going to stay with Azriel for the rest of the day so he should go far away unless he wanted to hear some things he shouldn't, but I didn't, I let Azriel handle it.

"Calm down, she's probably at the library. This castle is crawling with guards, she's safe here," Azriel reassured and Cassian must've nodded because there was no reply.

"I'm going back to bed, no more interruptions I'm trying to heal," Azriel shooed him away.

"Right, thanks Az," Cassian murmurs then a heavy pair of footsteps recede down the hall and Azriel closes the door, turning to me.

"Having affairs with your protectee and lying to your colleagues, how many rules are you going to break today?" I tease, lifting onto the tips of my toes and twining my arms around the back of his neck.

"I can always ask him to come back," He retorts and I frown, pecking his lips so quickly he barely had time to return the action.

"You wouldn't dare give me up so easily," I claim confidently, my fingers twining into his hair. "You like me too much."

"Way too much." He leans closer, his nose brushing mine. He looks at me for a moment, admiring my features from such a short distance, but as soon as his eyes flick down to my lips he can't help but lean in, our lips pressing together and somehow he made it feel like we've been doing this for decades it was all so natural.

"I'm staying in here all day, I hope you know that," I mumble and he pulls away a fraction to meet my gaze.

"But how will I ever get my rest to heal?" He sighs dramatically and I chuckle.

"I'll tell you what, you can sleep as long as you want, you just have to cuddle with me," I offer, and a soft grin forms on his lips.

"Sounds perfect to me." He closes the distance between us once more.

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#suriels tea #acotar #fanfic #a court of thorns and roses #x reader #sarah j maas #request #azriel #acomaf #1k celebration #x you fluff #azriel fluff #acotar fluff #x reader fluff #fluff #acotar x reader #azriel x reader #acotar au #bodyguard x princess #bodyguard au #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel x you #alternate universe #cassian #high lord rhysand #acotar fanfiction #fanfiction #azriel fanfic

[trippinsorrows]

with me + part ten

authors note: none

song inspo: “with me” by destiny’s child

status: in progress // masterlist

warnings: fluff, language, suggestive themes, angst

words: 5.8k

taglist: @pixiedust4000 @southerngirl41 @yolobloggers @msbigredmachine @wanderingreigns

You’ve never been a person who was big on holidays. 

Never saw the massive appeal. Easter was annoying cause everyone and they mama showed up to church just to show off their kids silk press and frilly dresses. Halloween was too dark. Valentine’s Day was always a toss up, depending on where you and Amir were at the moment. And 4th of July….fuck America. 

But Christmas…..in recent years, it’s starting to become a holiday you really enjoy. You owe a lot of that to Callie and her pure joy and excitement at the "most wonderful time of the year," for gifts, yes, but she loved celebrating “baby Jesus” birthday just as much.

And you couldn't deny that your town was most beautiful this time of year. Stunningly decorated, there wasn’t a non-resident building in town that wasn’t dressed down in HGTV worthy Christmas decor. Walking through town really felt like walking on the set of a Hallmark Christmas movie. 

And the activities were endless, especially for kids. 

Hence your current whereabouts, sitting on a bench with your mom as Callie partakes with a group of other kids in a workshop with some of ‘Santa’s elves’. Your eyes land on her more often than not, knowing you live in a safe area but never wanting to take any chances. You also notice how talkative she is at the table she’s seated at with another little girl. You smile. Seeing her interact with other kids always makes you happy. Once she gets past her initial shyness, you definitely see sprinkles of your extroverted personality in her. 

Checking your phone from a text from Joe, you can’t avoid the pout when met with empty notifications. 

Your mom, forever perceptive, notices this. “When does he come in?”

“Tomorrow,” you answer, unable to contain the smile on your face. You’re not sure who’s more excited about Joe’s return: you or Callie. Probably her, but you’re not that far behind. 

And not even just for sexual reasons. Yes, that’s definitely up there, but also expected. Because one thing about sex with Joe: it’s addictive. 

Having him like that for the first time in years awakened things in you that you forgot existed. No one could make you come like he could, and he knew it, hence his smug disposition during sex. One thing you were starting to realize was that Joe fucked like Roman, but he made love like Joe, and it was a deadly combination. 

You woke up alone the morning after the date, but you knew that was the case because this man literally flew out for one night just to take you out. And dick you down. 

But Joe being Joe, left you a note, like something out of one of those corny but sweet, romantic indie movies. It was thoughtful, but he’s always been thoughtful. 

That shouldn’t have surprised you. 

Just like you shouldn’t have been surprised to be woken up by Callie jumping on your bed, happy to see you and wanting to catch you up on her fun sleepover with Alexis. Alexis, who made sure that the first thing that she checked was the nightstand where that Plan B absolutely was nowhere to be found. 

Used and discarded in your waste bin. That’s where it was. 

The smirk she sent your way, you just knew she was gonna have a million and one questions. And clearly waiting for Callie to not be present to have that conversation was too much waiting, hence your phone buzzing with texts while you watched Wish with Callie.

Alexis: You dirty whore! I wanna know everything.

You: What’s there to tell? You don’t see the box anymore, do you?

Alexis: Bitch, you know what I mean. It was good, wasn’t it?

You: Girl…..good ain’t the word for it. 😩 I’m so tired and sore right now. He wore my ass out. Had me up all night.

You: I stopped counting after 4.

Alexis: 😖 You have no idea how much I love this for you.

Alexis: I’m also gonna take a wild guess that since you took the plan b, ya’ll didn’t use protection? He came in you, didn’t he? 👀

You: Every.single.time.

Alexis: Oh, he down baddddd. 

Alexis: Shit, do I need to get you some pregnancy tests?

You: NO. It was just last night…..I may have to get on BC because that can’t be a regular thing.

Alexis: Well….don’t you want more kids anyway? 

You: We’re not even dating, and you want me to get knocked up by this man?

Alexis: Bitch, you already have one child. Give her a sibling. 

Alexis: And what do you mean you’re not dating? That is your man. Just own it. 

It was a fun exchange, as are most things with Alexis, and it brought up a valid point. Joe was gonna have to either wrap it up or you were going to need to get back on the pill. 

And you knew better than to tell her that this man literally asked you if you were on the pill and said good when you told him you weren’t. You haven’t given yourself time to process that….later date and time. 

But Joe’s definitely been the subject of several dreams that left you waking up feeling aroused. Hence you counting down the days until his return, yes for Callie, but also because you desperately need your insides rearranged in a way only he can fulfill. 

And you also just miss him. 

Plain and simple.  

“I take it things are going well between ya’ll.” Your mom gives you that all-knowing look that all moms possess. You roll your eyes, and she playfully nudges your shoulder. “I’m happy for you, sweetie. You deserve to be happy. You and Callie.”

“We’re just….I don’t know what we’re doing exactly, but….it is going well.” It seems a bit silly to not acknowledge that you and Joe are dating again, but until he confirms as such, you lean on the side of caution. Granted, you know he’s not fucking anyone else, and you damn sure aren’t either. You speak to each other as often as you can, and there’s seldom a conversation that occurs without one or both of you hinting at the mindblowing sex you’ll have once he returns.

Nope….not dating at all.

“Well, he’s divorced now, isn’t he?” You’d eventually caught your mom up on that important update, knowing that she would never really approve if his wife was still in the picture. She wouldn’t outright say anything, but her demeanor would be telling enough. 

“Yes, but—”

“And he’s obviously very interested in being with you. I don’t need to ask if you’re interested in being with him, and Callie would do well in a healthy two-parent household.”

At that, you stop walking, arm in front of your mom. “Mama….you did amazing raising me all on your own. I owe you so much that it’d be impossible for me to ever repay you.” And it’s the truth. Definitely age and becoming a single mother yourself showed you just how much your mom sacrificed to keep a roof over your head and food in your belly. Your mom truly is your hero.

She smiles warmly, placing her gloved hand over yours. “I appreciate that, baby. But, if you don’t have to struggle, why should you? Joseph seems keen on being in Callie’s life and yours as well. What’s holding you back?”

You chuckle at her final question. “That’s more or less the same thing Alexis said.” Only gone for a couple days, you're starting to miss her too. She's been a great source of support the past couple weeks.

“I always did like that girl. A bit on the wild side, but I like her.” Oh, if your mom knew the extent of what that wildness looked like. Not just for Alexis but yourself. You’re certain your mom would have a heart attack if she knew you were a regular at the strip club in college. So much so that the owner knew you by name and often propositioned you for a job.

You’d be lying if you tried to say you didn’t consider it from time to time. 

“Maybe it’s how we got together,” you guess aloud, sitting back against the bench. “I think I still have some guilt about doing that to his wife.” 

It’s a take you’ve found yourself thinking about more and more over the past couple weeks. She may be out of the picture now, but she wasn’t when you first started messing with Joe. She was still his wife the first time you let him take you to bed, and that’s left a stain on your conscience you’re not entirely sure how to rid yourself of.

“I understand that entirely.” Hearing the change in your mom’s tone has you wondering if it’s truly wise to have this conversation with her. Is it still a sensitive subject? “But it seems they divorced before you even came back in the picture. Do you know why they finally went their separate ways?”

Shaking your head, you inform, “no, and a part of me wants to ask, but when he told me about it, I could see it was difficult for him. He had this….sadness in his eyes. And I don’t think it was because of the divorce itself but….something else.” 

A part of you wants to ask him again, feels like it’s information you should know. But, another part of you doesn’t want to pry too much. If it’s a sensitive subject, you don’t want to reopen any open wounds. 

“Well, if this continues to progress, it may be a discussion that needs to happen. Even if it just gives you a peace of mind.” You know she’s right. It’s just not something you’re ecstatic about having to do. “And you probably should also start thinking about what changes you may have to make for this to continue to work.”

Confused, you ask, “what do you mean?”

“He can’t keep flying in and out sporadically just to see his child. Or you. That’s not fair to any of ya’ll and not sustainable. You’re gonna have to relocate to wherever he lives.”

That….that is not something you’ve thought about until this very moment. You know Joe bends over backwards to make these visits work, but it hadn't occurred to you how long this dynamic could continue. 

Your mom must see the wheels in your head turning, adding, “and think about Callie, once she finds out that’s her daddy, she’s gonna wanna be around him as much as possible. It could be easier if you’re a bit closer.”

You don’t know how true or untrue your mom’s take is, but it’s also another conversation that will have to happen between you and Joe. He’s always on the road in general. Will moving really do anything to help with his visits? Relocating is something you’ve never ever thought about. This is your home. You grew up here. Callie was growing up here. You always saw her growing up here.

But, that was also a version where Joe wasn’t in her life. Now he is. So, of course, some things would change.

You just didn’t imagine that is what would change.

Even if your mom’s guidance now has you wondering what it would be like to have a house together, the three of you, Callie, with an actual backyard she can run around in. Not just limited to the space of your apartment. 

“I’m gonna go say hi to Gloria.” She taps your leg, gesturing to her friend’s store. “I’ll be right back.”

Nodding, you sit there, focusing on Callie instead of the nuggets of wisdom your mom just dropped on you. 

“Long time no see, stranger.”

And just like that, you’re regretting ever agreeing to leave your place. You should have just done something at the apartment with Callie. Invited your mom over. Baked some cookies and shit. 

Crossing your arms, you refuse to look his way. “Amir, it’s the happiest time of the year. Please leave me alone, and let me stay in my happy place.”

“You’re still upset with me?” He seems genuinely surprised at this, like you cussing him out in front of your daughter’s preschool wasn’t a good indicator of how upset you were. “Gotta let that shit go.”

“I don’t have to do anything but live, be black, and love my child.” Scooting to your edge of the bench, you tell him again. “Now go away.”

“We clearly need to talk this out—”

“No, we don’t need to do anything because there is no we.” You catch Callie’s eyes and remind yourself that you don’t need a part two of the last time. “I told you before. That’s done and over with. In all areas. You’ll never see my name pop up on your phone ever again.”

And that’s a promise.

“You’re so fuckin’ dramatic.” He’s growing annoyed. If only you cared. “Stop playing. What you doing tomorrow?”

“Sitting on my man’s face.”

Your answer seems to take him back. “He still around?” You don’t say anything. “You’re not stupid enough to be fucking him again, are you?”

“Amir, the only reason I was ever fucking you was because he wasn’t around, but he’s here now, and he’s not going anywhere. And without hurting your feelings before Christmas, I can promise you, dick is not something I will ever want or need from anyone else ever again.”

He scoffs, just looking at you with disgust. “Mariah was right. That nigga really does have you acting different.”

At that, your head snaps in his direction. “What did you just say?” Instantly, you see it. The regret in his face in realizing he’s fucked up. “Why were you talking to Mariah?” Your best friend couldn’t take your calls or texts, but she had time to fill your ex in on your private life? “When?”

He looks off, trying to hide the guilty expression you’ve already clocked. “We ran into each other at the store the other day.”

Lie.

Scoffing, you lean back against the bench. And you laugh. All you can do is laugh because never in a million years would you have put these pieces together, but it makes so much sense. 

“Yeah, you can get the fuck away from me. Now.” Seeing him about to open his mouth again, you decide to separate yourself. “Fine. I’ll leave.” 

And you do just that, moving to another available bench where you can still keep a close eye on Callie. It seems they’re nearing the end of the activity. One glance over to your previous seat, you see that Amir is gone. 

Good. 

Pulling out your phone, you send a simple text. 

You: If you were too busy riding Amir’s average dick to message me back, you could have just said so.

There’s barely any time for you to slide your phone back into your purse when it beeps.

Mariah: ??????

It actually takes a lot in you not to call and cuss her out right then and there. You’ve been trying to get in contact with her for weeks and the minute you send her that, she remembers how to reply?

“Mommy!”

You’re grateful for Callie’s distraction. Smile on your face, you see she’s approached you with not only the little girl at her table but a man also wearing a friendly expression.

“This is my new friend! Her name is Taylor!” Taylor appears to be the same or around the same age as Callie, box braids styled into two space buns, and she and Callie share giggles like they’ve been friends for years. In a weird sort of way, she reminds you a lot of Callie. 

“It seems the girls have connected,” the man speaks with a chuckle. He offers his hand. “I’m Darius. Taylor’s dad.”

Your phone goes off and you quickly glance, hoping it’s Joe.

Mariah: Can we talk?

Instantly, you reorient yourself to the conversation at hand. 

“It appears they have,” you agree, offering your name and asking, “are you from around here?”

“Naw. Just visiting some family. Me and my wife.” He looks around. “She should be somewhere around here. Her parents only live about an hour out, so they came to meet us.”

“Oh, cool.” Glancing at the girls, you recognize that plotting look on Callie’s face and wait patiently. Coyly, you share with Darius, “I believe a request is coming.”

“Oh, most definitely.” 

Sure enough, Callie is holding onto your leg, face peering up at you. “Mommy, can we see the fireworks tomorrow?” That’s certainly not what you expected to hear her ask. Callie has never been too big on fireworks. When she was younger, you’d have to lay in bed with her and soothe her to sleep because they made her nervous. Now she wants to go to an actual show? “Taylor is going too, right Taylor?”

Taylor nods happily. “And my mommy and grandma and grandpa.”

It's like the mentioning of additional parties triggers something for her, Callie offering suddenly, “Joe can come too!” 

That gives you a pause. Joe’s never gone out in public with the two of you, outside of the hospital, but that doesn’t necessarily count. It was an emergency, not happy hour.

There’s a bit of anxiety, even though you know your town is the perfect place to do so. You’d put your head on the chopping board that less than five people would actually approach him, asking for autographs and such. They might recognize him, but they’d never approach. 

It’ll also be the first time Callie can refer to him as her father instead of just Joe.

Finally deciding, you answer, “if you want to, baby.” 

You and Darius share a laugh as the girls rejoice together. He pulls out his phone and offers, “why don’t I give you my wife’s number? You two can communicate regarding the meetup and whatnot.”

“Yeah, of course.” Exchanging information, you program Bianca Johnson into your phone, sending her a text after Darius says he’s already messaged her regarding Taylors new best friend. 

It’s in programming the number though that you see an incoming call from Mariah. It’s an immediate decline. 

Mariah: Would you pick up the damn phone, please?

Navigating to her thread, you put her on mute. It’s almost Christmas. You refuse to allow her or anyone else to ruing this for you or Callie. 

________

Personally, you believe that there should be a mandatory set time for Children to wake up on Christmas. Preferably, any time after 10am. 12pm would be even better but highly unlikely given most kids go to bed extra early on Christmas Eve. Callie is no different. You and Joe get her down by 6:30pm which should have given you ample time to bake cookies, finish wrapping her gifts, the whole nine yards.

If only you two had a better sense of self-control, because the minute you were confident Callie was out for the night, he had you bent over the kitchen island. And that was….that was fine, because you’d been thinking about him being inside you from the moment he stepped foot in your place. Hell, from the moment he left. 

But then you somehow ended up riding him on the living room floor, his back propped up against the sofa as you bounced on his dick, surrounded by the toys you should have been wrapping for your daughter. And while you eventually did get the gifts wrapped and cookies baked, you weren’t even able to change from out of your towel and into pajamas when this man propped you on your bathroom counter, spread your legs, and ate you out like he’d been fasting for 40 days and 40 nights. 

It wasn’t entirely surprising. Joe’s always had a big appetite for sex, for you. Not that you were any better. And the fact of the matter was that having a kid meant you had to take advantage of the little free time you had, which you clearly did. 

But it was now coming to bite you in the ass, because it’s goddamn 9 o’clock in the morning, and Callie is jumping up and down on your bed when all you want to do is sleep for another ten hours.

“Mommy! Joe! Santa came!”

It’s nearly impossible to hold in your groan, so you suppress it by turning over and pressing yourself into Joe. Of course, he’s already got his arm around you, holding you against his body. He’s also still knocked out. 

Finding the strength, you shove on his chest. “Wake up.” It’s a bit incoherent, sleep still heavy in you and hindering your speech. Blinking your eyes open to allow the sun shining from the open curtains (courtesy of Callie) to motivate you to get your ass up, you punch him in his stomach. “Joe.”

He grunts, and you smile. “She’s up.” 

Pleased with the fulfillment of her alarm clock duties, she jumps off the bed, yelling, “come on!”

At that, you sit up from the mattress, scolding her, “Calista Manaia Anoa’i, you got one more time to jump off this bed, sis!” Looking back to see Joe still trying to wake up, you shove him again. “You better get your daughter before she gets punished on Christmas.”

This helps to stir him as he lays on his back, hand on his forehead. “Leave her alone.” It takes a minute for you to refocus. His voice in general is sexy as hell, but that morning voice is something dangerous. 

“Her ass is always trying to jump on and off shit.” Kicking off the blankets, you stretch and make your way into the bathroom to do your hygiene routine. Joe is not too far behind, coming in a few minutes later, slapping your ass as you’re bent over the sink spitting out your toothpaste. “Behave,” you warn. The two of you share the sink and counter space to get ready with you finishing first. 

Back in the room, you make up the bed and check your phone, sending out a few, quick Merry Christmas texts, Bianca included. Even though you’ve only texted since yesterday, she seems pretty chill and you have a couple of things in common, kids around the same age, both working as teachers. It’s just unfortunate that she lives further down South. You’re not sure how you’re gonna break that to Callie, but that’s a task for another day. 

Today is an exciting, happy occasion, and you’re not gonna let anything or anyone ruin it. 

Joe is suddenly behind you, arms around your waist and mouth on the side of your neck. 

“Merry Christmas, baby” he murmurs, pressing kisses against your skin. 

Chewing down on your bottom lip, you turn around and lean up to kiss him. “Merry Christmas.” Hands on his chest, you ask, “You ready?”

He looks at you, clearly thinking about what you’re asking. This is what he’d been building up to, but you’re certain there’s some level of anxiety. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good,” he finally answers. You’re not certain if he’s speaking more to you or himself. 

“She’s gonna be happy, Joe. I promise.” Stealing one more kiss, you take his hand. “Come on. She’s gonna start getting impa—”

“Come on!” She shouts from the living room, and you give him a look. 

“That’s your child.” His chuckle follows you out of the bedroom and into the living room where Callie is literally bouncing on the heels of her feet near the Christmas tree. You’re not entirely certain, but you could have sworn there weren’t as many gifts there when you left for your shower and eventually bed. 

“It’s Christmas!” Running over to Joe who swoops her up and kisses her cheek as she tells him Merry Christmas, you patiently wait for your turn, giving her a kiss and hug too before she’s pulling the both of you over to the tree. 

Using your phone, you snap photos and record intermittent videos of her opening her gifts. And in doing so, you’re certain Joe added a couple more when you were in the shower. He’s definitely that dad who doesn’t see an issue with spoiling the shit out of his kid. And as long as Callie remains kind and respectful, you won’t stop him. He’ll definitely hear about it tonight, but you won’t actually interfere.

Alexa playing Christmas songs in the background helps to set the tone as well. Mostly Mariah Carey because it’s literal law that one must listen to All I Want for Christmas is You on Christmas day. Really, starting the day after Halloween. 

You don’t make the rules. 

Literal fucking law. 

Callie suddenly pulls a gift, small and rectangular shaped, that you definitely don’t remember wrapping. “Mommy, it’s for you!” Thinking it’s something she made for you, you put your phone down and take it only to recognize that the writing is clearly too nice to be written by a child, not to mention that it has your name instead of mommy. 

Your eyes land on him. “Joe….what is this?”

“Open it,” he encourages, waiting patiently.

Still in somewhat belief he would actually get you something, you rip off the packaging and gasp. You almost drop it reading the brand name written in gold calligraphy. “Chanel? Thee Chanel?”

“Who’s Chanel, mommy?” 

“It’s a brand, baby,” you answer, distracted because you’re still stuck on the fact that you’re actually holding in your hand something that had to cost at least a thousand dollars. If not a couple thousand. 

“Open it, mommy,” Callie presses. This girl is both nosy but also loves to see people receive gifts. 

And so, you open it, gasping louder this time.

“Joe…..” It’s absolutely stunning, the most beautiful necklace you’ve ever seen. Gold. An intricately decorated ‘C’ pendant with a diamond in the middle. C for Chanel for most people. C for your heartbeat for you. “It’s beautiful….” 

He moves over to you, helping to remove it from the box. As your hair is already up in a messy bun, he has no difficulty placing it around you, as Callie exclaims happily, “it’s a C!.”

“C for Callie,” you answer her, cupping her cheek before turning to Joe. “Thank you…..” Pulling him in for a hug, there’s something so emotional about this moment, something pure. You’ve never felt so cared for by anyone.

Never felt so loved. 

He kisses your temple. “You never have to thank me for anything I do for you.” 

Hating the fact that tears are brimming your eyes, you punch his shoulder, needing to not be so emotional. “You should have told me you got me something. Now I feel bad because I didn’t get you anything.” 

Thumb caressing your cheek, he answers, softly. “You already did.” Confused, his eyes discreetly focus on Callie who’s back trying to figure out which toy she wants to play with first.

That….that does something to you. 

You look at him, ready to say something, when you see it. See it in his eyes. A deep level of appreciation that indicates a story, a reason as to why this means the world to him. There’s something there. Something more he’s not saying, but you know it’s neither the time nor the place. 

Now….now is the time for something else. 

“Baby.” It’s surprisingly easy to catch Callie’s attention, so you pat the space in between the two of you. “Come here. We need to talk to you about something.” 

Wordlessly, she plops right between ya’ll with that naturally inquisitive expression. 

“Callie….” Joe feeling a bit nervous made sense to you, and you expected as such. But you never thought about your own trepidation in this moment. It’s difficult, but you do your best to push it away. “Do you….do you remember when you asked me about your dad?” She nods. “And why…..why you didn’t have one?”

She nods again, Joe this time grabbing her attention. “Callie, do you know why I came back in your mom’s life?”

She thinks about his question, answering tentatively, “because you missed mommy?”

He chuckles. “That’s true. I did miss her. A lot.” You try not to think too much about his words, to not make this moment about you or you and him. It’s about Callie. “But, I mostly came back because I wanted to meet you.”

Her eyes light up. “Really?”

He nods, “Calista, you are the sweetest, kindest, and smartest kid that I have ever met. And I love every second that I get to spend with you.” Joe brings his hand to gently palm her face. “And I especially love being your dad.” 

You’re not quite sure if you’re breathing or even fully present in the few seconds it takes for Callie to process what he’s just said. But then, you see it, a smile that could light up times square. “Really?” She snaps her head in your direction, looking for confirmation. “Mommy, is Joe really my daddy?”

Sniffling, you wipe at your eyes. Damn feelings. You’ve been way too emotional lately. “He sure is, baby.” 

Squealing, she literally throws herself against him, hugging him tightly. “It’s the best Christmas ever!”

“I love you, Callie.” Joe shuts his eyes, taking in this moment, kissing the top of her head. “And I’ll always be here for you.”

“I love you too, daddy!” If you could capture this moment, capture those words leaving her mouth, forever keep them as a keepsake to be preserved for all time, you would. Because it’s everything you’ve ever wanted for her. To know she’s wanted and loved by both her parents. And finally, that moment is no longer a hope but a reality. 

“Wait!” She suddenly pulls away, grabbing the picture she’d drawn for Joe and given to him as a Christmas gift. “I’ll be back!”

He looks over at you. “What is she—” 

“Your guess is as good as mine,” you answer with a murmur, still partially overcome with emotion. 

However, Callie is back in a matter of minutes with that beautiful smile on her face. Flipping it over, she exclaims, “I fixed it.” 

Your eyes immediately land on what she “fixed,” and your heart swells. She’s crossed out Joe’s name with a black marker and instead written above it “daddy.”

“I love it.” His voice is thick with emotion, and you move closer to him, laying against his side. Wanting to be with him in this precious moment. 

Callie wasn’t lying.

This truly is the best Christmas. 

________

“Come on! We’re gonna be late!” 

Callie’s animated voice somehow travels to you and Joe despite all of the hustle and bustle occurring around you, the sea of bodies waiting for the fireworks show to begin. There’s not much distance between the two of you and her, enough for Joe to grab her if need be. 

You walk close with him, you hands locked around his bicep.

His discomfort is obvious, so you assure, “relax. You’re not the tribal chief around here.” He glances at you. “They may notice you, but they’ll leave you alone. Especially since it’s Christmas.”

This seems to relieve him as she explains, “tonight is about her. I just don’t want to take away from that.”

“And you won’t, I promise. Just….just be present in this moment.” He takes your hand in his, giving a gentle squeeze. Continuing to walk with him, your eyes land on Taylor, Darius, and a woman who, even from a distance, looks vaguely familiar. 

“Taylor!” 

Callie rushes over to her new best friend, and the two embrace. You almost wish you had your phone out to take a picture. The woman wears a friendly smile, but instantly, something feels off. She approaches you, asking, “Y/N?”

Nodding, you’re shocked when she pulls you in for a hug and then apologizes. “I'm sorry. I’m a hugger, and I just feel like I know you already.” 

Callie takes this moment to jump back in the conversation, rushing over to Joe and introducing, “this is my daddy!”

That settles some of your anxiety. You’re not certain you’ll ever get tired of hearing her refer to him as such, and you know he won’t either.

“Man, uhh, hi, nice–nice to meet you.” Immediately, you know that Darius most definitely recognizes Joe. “Big fan.”

“Thanks, man.” Joe, understandably, keeps it simple, and you clear your throat. 

“Thank you for arranging this with us. Callie seems to really like Taylor.”

“Taylor too,” Bianca expresses with a smile, as you realize she also has dimples. It’s a little thing, stupid, but as much as you try, you can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong. “I swear, you would think they’ve known each other for years.”

Joe chuckles. “They’ve hit it off pretty well.”

“I’m sorry.” You hate being so off-putting and direct, especially given all of your text exchanges with this woman have gone so well, but you have to ask, “have we m—-”

“Bianca!”

A woman’s voice calls out, interrupting your conversation. 

She looks past you and smiles, waving whoever it is over. “My parents,” she informs. “Over here!”

Callie and Taylor are immersed in a conversation, as you make eye-contact with Joe who gives you that ‘what’s wrong?’ expression. Answering truthfully, you shrug and murmur, “I don’t know.”

The presence of Taylor’s grandparents snatches her attention from Callie. “Grandpa!”

Turning around, you manage a small, inauthentic smile to introduce yourself when you see it. And everything is suddenly ten ways wrong. 

There’s a brief second where you question yourself, question your vision, question your entire existence. But as he smiles, holding and kissing his grandchild on the cheek, you just know, know that you’re not wrong.

“Dad,” Bianca speaks, but you’re someplace else, someplace much different. “This is Y/N and…..”

She’s talking, but you’ve completely dissociated. You can’t say anything, paralyzed with shock and an overwhelming feeling of heartache. 

That’s why she looked so familiar. You saw her that day at the precinct, coming into his office to inform him of her sibling’s misbehavior. This is his daughter.

This is your sister. 

The daughter he picked over you. 

And this is your father. 

You’re going to be sick.

Partially aware of Joe’s suddenly cautious gaze on you, you place one hand over your stomach. “Excuse….excuse me….I—” You feel like you’re going to pass out, like four walls surround and are gradually closing in on you. Your throat is about to close up. “I have to go.” And you run, you run as far as your legs can take you, away from that situation, away from that visceral blast from the past, away from the overwhelming emotions that are threatening to overcome you. 

And you don’t stop.

#roman reigns x black!oc #roman reigns fic #roman reigns #roman reigns x black!reader #arisnotebook #black writers

[alexanderwales]

My Very Brief Time as a Korean Rice Farmer

When my wife had been working at her company for ten years, her boss offered her a two week trip anywhere in the world she wanted to go. It was a small company, maybe thirty people, and she'd been one of the first employees, when they were even smaller.

We had wanted to go to Japan, but this was 2022, and they were still closed for COVID when we were making the plans. We decided on South Korea instead, which was my personal preference over Japan anyway (kimchi and k-dramas and the Joseon era!). I used Duolingo to learn Hangul (the script) and not all that much actual Korean.

We went to Changdeok Palace in Seoul early in the morning, getting there just before it opened. It's a huge place that's right in the city, surrounded, as most things in Seoul are, by other buildings. The Palace is actually a number of buildings built by a number of kings from the Joseon era.

Right when we came in, we were quickly approached by a guy in a blue hanbok. "Hanbok" is a word that means "traditional clothing" or something like that, so it's not actually descriptive, but it was powder blue and looked fancy. He had glasses and a slightly uneasy smile on his face, and approached us from far enough away that I had time to wonder if he was approaching us, and if he was, what he wanted.

"Excuse me, how long were you going to be here today?" he asked.

"We don't have plans," my wife said. "We were going to be here all day, long enough to see everything."

"Would you like to participate in a festival?" he asked.

We looked at each other and told him sure, and then followed him as he talked. (We passed a group of thirty children who had just been admitted with their teacher, and they seemed excited to see foreigners, so they kept yelling "Hello!" to us, which was probably the only English they knew. We waved and said "annyeonghaseyo!" back to them.)

What I thought was going on at this point was that we were getting upsold on something, but I was okay with that. I figured that we were going to see something special and extra, and then get charged some extra money. Whatever, we were on vacation, I was fine with that. We hadn't been in Korean long, and I thought "maybe they just station guys like this by the gate to rope people in". It was weird, but we were in a place where we didn't understand all the customs or speak the language, and my policy had been "just roll with it".

I did think it was weird that we were hoofing it across the palaces, and thought it was more weird when we went past a gate and into a place where no one else was apparently allowed. Our guide spoke good English, but when he'd been talking it had always been "the festival" or "the event" and "you'll be there most of the day" and "we'll make sure you have what you need". We were not clear on what was going on.

He mentioned that there would be a rice harvest, which I thought was weird since we were in a historical park in the middle of Seoul.

He told us that he'd give us a tour, because there wouldn't be time later, so he guided us through the Joseon-era gardens and temples. There was no one around, because that part of the grounds wasn't open until later in the day, so we got to see everything and ask whatever questions we wanted to ask, which has got to be the best possible way to experience a place. I was mostly struck by how much work it must have taken to make all this stuff and had lots of "down with the monarchy" feelings. There's a huge pond that's in the shape of the Korean peninsula, and god damn must that have taken a ton of time without a backhoe.

We were eventually taken a small place where they were setting things up, with a bunch of people milling about, and it was only then that we saw the rice: a small plot of it, no more than twenty feet to a side.

The rice was, in historical times, planted there so the king would have some understanding of what the crop yields would be like, since rice was the lifeblood of the country. It was harvested and inspected and whatnot to get some sense of the agriculture of the country, because anything that happened to the rice in these conditions was probably happening to rice all over the kingdom.

This rice harvest wasn't something that they just do with tourists every now and then, it only happens on this single day in the entire year, and me and my wife were two of the five people who would be doing it. The other three were all Korean government people of some kind.

They took us to a building and got us changed in our hanbok. "Hanbok" means "traditional clothes", and usually is associated with a nice and historical outfit, like someone in England dressing up in Regency era clothing. Here, it just meant "traditional farmer clothes".

Problem: I am six feet tall, which is quite tall for a Korean.

This woman was trying to dress me, and both because I was a bit overweight and quite tall, it was just not going well. My wife thought it was hilarious.

The other part of the kit was some orange rubber boots, which were not traditional but did prevent us from getting covered in mud. This is the most that I have ever looked like a goose.

When they were ready for us, we were handed tools to cut the rice. The ideal motion was to grab it around the base, move the hand up, then cut at the bottom. I am pretty sure that the thing we were handed was a sickle.

We got warned five or six times that they were extremely sharp, meant for slicing through the stalks of grain, and because there was a bit of a language barrier, the guy handing them to us kept nodding as he tried to make sure we understood that there was no small amount of danger.

My wife, five seconds after being handed her sickle, lunged at me with a "Hiya!" like she meant to stab me in the stomach. I jumped, five or six Koreans around us jumped, and my wife laughed and laughed. (My wife is great.)

When the photographers got there, we went into the muck and began harvesting. There were what felt like fifty photographers taking pictures of us while very loud drums played a traditional song and some people danced around us. We preened in front of the cameras, trying to take direction as best we could, and tossing the harvested rice off to the side so that two men with giant hammers could pound on it and make it into something like mochi (I think called tteok, but there was a lot of Korean happening).

After the photographers had gone, we had a little break, then were made to harvest rice in front of a group of Korean people, most of whom were, I think, either government functionaries or personalities or something. The drums were going again, I was sweating in my hanbok, and left hoping that my glasses wouldn't fall into the mud.

A third rice harvest was done for tourists, and the drums started up. I think this was the weirdest one for me, because I was a tourist on display for other tourists.

After the last of the rice was harvested, we had an interview with the largest English-speaking TV station in South Korea. All the questions were casual chit-chat questions, and I figured that only five or ten seconds would make it on air for a puff piece (which is what happened, with my wife hogging all the screen time).

When we had finally changed back into our normal clothes, we were given gifts by way of thanks, two wooden cups that we now use in the bathroom to hold toothbrushes, along with a pound of rice each (though not the stuff we'd harvested, which was made into tteok and we did get a chance to eat).

Our guide was super nice to us, answered some questions about what it's like to live in South Korea, and talked to us about places for us to visit. Over the next few days, we were able to find a few puff pieces on the internet, all in Korean.

I'm pretty sure they do this every year, always with token foreigners, and I hope some day I'm telling this story to someone and they say "oh yeah, that happened to me too".

#south korea #travel

[soaps-mohawk]

I just saw someone talk about Simon Riley being a rapist and the only way they tried to confirm it is by saying that he is a war criminal and all soldiers are misogynistic and sexist and they also talked about how he dreamt of hurting women in the comics when that's quite literally a normal reaction by being raped by both men and women (what I mean is that abused people sometimes dream of becoming someone they're not and don't want to be) but they conveniently forgot to mention how that "dream" was a nightmare. (Just wanted to rant about this and see your opinion)

The sigh I let out when I saw this ask this morning.

I'm so sick and tired of seeing this discourse. Not just in this fandom but in every fandom. Maybe it's just because I'm old and my frontal lobe is fully developed, or maybe it's because I was in fandom back in the days where there were no tags. You were lucky if you got a warning at the beginning of a fic. Most fics you walked in blind and if you didn't like something? You hit the back button and found something else.

This sudden mainstreaming of fandom has ruined these spaces. People come in, refuse to "learn the rules" that most of us learned by just existing in these spaces and watching others interact. There were no written rules back then. We learned by observing and occasionally being guided on fandom etiquette by those more experienced than us. Now it's just like people come in expecting fandom to be like every other space on the internet and then get defensive and angry when they realize it's not. Fandom is cringy. It's nerdy. It's happy and sunshine and it's dark and ugly like every media out there. Us creators and those of us more experienced in fandom have been screaming how to exist in fandom spaces from the rooftops but no one is listening and then everyone wonders why creators are leaving these spaces. Why fandoms keep getting abandoned.

All of that aside, this discourse about FICTIONAL characters pisses me off. Simon Riley is a FICTIONAL character. He has no morality, there is no right or wrong because he's FICTIONAL. You can make him do whatever you want to do because he's NOT REAL. You can give him wings and have him fly and guess what?? Cool, that can happen because he's NOT REAL. You want to make him a rapist? Cool, you can do that because he's FICTIONAL. You can make him whatever you want to make him because he's a character. He's not a living, breathing human being. There are no consequences of his actions because he's FICTIONAL!!!

Don't even get me started on this sudden discourse about dark fics and dead dove that's appeared recently. Dark media has existed for literal centuries. The Epic of Gilgamesh from 1800 BCE. The Odyssey. Mostellaria by Plautus. The Castle of Otranto published in the 1700s. Frankenstein. Dracula. The works of Edgar Allan Poe. Lolita. Hell, look at the Bible. The Bible, especially the old testament, is fucked up. Even in the watered down, bastardized King James version, the things the old testament "God" supposedly did, when you sit and actually think about them outside the lens of religious brainrot, are super fucked up.

People have been creating dark media for a long time. Horror has existed for a long time because it plays to our worst fears. It gives us a safe way to express those fears and to experience them without having to experience them first hand. You wouldn't bitch at a horror movie director for including things like rape and gore and murder in their movies?? So why is writing different? You think every horror movie director agrees with the things they portray on screen? You think every horror movie director would go out and murder someone just because they made a movie about it? No, because we're allowed to portray things in all forms of media, we're allowed to write things without morally agreeing with them. Guess what, most people that write rape or assault or violence, aren't going out and doing those things in real life. They don't support those things in real life. In fact, people that write dark fanfics are some of the loudest protesters against those things.

If you want to make Simon Riley a real person, guess what? He's not going to be even morally grey. Most people in the military are not good people. They're not. The people that are good people in the military, or were in the military, are the ones saying that the loudest. People that got tricked into joining, people that got promised things, people that did it because they had no other choice and then realized what it was really like after getting in? Those are the people to listen to. Not Call of Duty, not the people trying to convince you to join because they're glorified sales people and have a quota to fill. Look up videos of what happened in Iraq and Afghanistan at the hands of American and British soldiers. You would not like Simon Riley if he were a real person.

But he's not real. He's FICTIONAL. Even as a fictional character, he's not a good person. So many Call of Duty fans put on the blinders and ignore the fact that these men are out here committing awful acts of violence and killing people because they're "the good guys." People love to forget that Price literally kidnapped a woman and a child and had them held at gunpoint to get information out of someone. Not only that, he was okay with it. If he were a real person that did that, you would not be questioning if he were a good person or not. You can tell the people that have never played the games or watched playthroughs, who only know these characters through the lenses of fanfics and artwork and headcanons.

Call of Duty is military propaganda. They paint these men as heroes, make it easy to put the blinders up and ignore the things that are happening, the things they're doing so that they can convince young men that they want to do that and they should join the military so they can go out and do that too. That's Call of Duty's audience. That's who they're creating these games for. These young, impressionable boys who get excited by the violence and the action who will go on to fill quota numbers for recruiters. Call of Duty was not made for us, the people writing fanfiction and creating art for it. This side of the Call of Duty fandom will be the first to tell you all of this.

This side of the fandom creates fanworks which would turn Activision's eyes red. We babygirlify their military propaganda because it actively goes against what Activision is trying to do. It goes against what Call of Duty is at its core. Sure, some people water it down a lot, and others keep it more realistic to what these men would be like in real life, because it's FICTION. You can portray these characters however you want because that's what fiction is for.

And guess what, anon? Rape kinks exist. Consensual non-consent exists. It's well known. And guess what? Victims of sexual assault and rape can develop those kinks as a coping mechanism. Here's a study from the NIH website, and if that's too complex for you, here's a VICE news article that uses that study. People can write rape and rape kinks and CNC and noncon and not support it in real life. People can write those things to bring awareness to the fact that they happen to people in real life, or because people in real life have those kinks. People write those things to help victims, to support them. It's cathartic. Dark media most often is created for catharsis. It gives people an outlet, and it allows people to experience those things in a safe, controlled environment for whatever reason.

And that's the thing, anon. People don't have to give anyone a reason for why the consume that kind of media. Creators don't owe anyone an explanation as to why they create it. It's none of your business, and if you're not comfortable with it, then don't consume it. You can turn off the TV if a horror movie is too much for you. People walk out of theaters all the time because a movie is not what they were expecting, be it because it was bad or because it was too graphic or violent or disgusting. You start reading a book and you don't like it for whatever reason? You put the book down and pick up another. Why do people have such a problem with not reading fanfics they don't like? Why do people have such a hard time just blocking creators that make things they don't want to see. Most dark fic and dead dove creators put ample warnings on their blog and their posts. That's why those tags exist. You don't like it and you don't want to see it? Then block and move on and let others enjoy what they want to enjoy.

You pearl clutchers are ruining fandom and soon there won't be anything for you to enjoy. If you can't handle fandom, then don't be in it. There is no algorithm here. You're going to see things you don't want to see and it's very easy to just block and filter tags. There was a time on Tumblr where you couldn't filter tags. I remember those days. You had to download the X-kit extension to block things, and that only worked on desktop. The fact Tumblr gave us the option to filter tags on the site and on the app was a big deal when it was rolled out. I remember so many people that didn't want to use the app when it first came out because you couldn't block potentially triggering tags.

It's not a creator's problem if you were triggered by their media. Life doesn't come with trigger warnings and it's a blessing that it's become so normalized to include warnings at the beginnings of fics. There's websites that exist for other forms of media that will give trigger warnings. If you can look up trigger warnings for a movie and decide not to watch it, you can look at the trigger warnings for fics and decide not to interact with it. You're not out here emailing the directors and producers of movies that include triggers you don't like, telling them they're awful people for including those things in their movie and they shouldn't. Yet you have no problem coming into the comments and inboxes creators who do this FOR FREE because we wrote one dark fic. Because we wrote something that's triggering to you.

And yes, some abuse victims go on to be abusers, some people continue that cycle because they don't have the help and support to break it. It's a sad thing that happens, but it happens. It happens in the fictional world and it happens in real life. People can make that happen to fictional characters for whatever reasons they want.

I've written dark fics. I've written several. I consume "disturbing" media for fun. I've read books and watched movies that would send these pearl clutchers to the hospital. Hell, I've probably written things (some published, some that will never see the light of day) that would turn these pearl clutchers inside out. Guess what? That's okay because it's FICTION. It's cathartic. I don't have to give my reasons why because it's no one's business except those I decide to tell because I trust them and I know they'll support me. I don't support those things in real life. Just because I write for Call of Duty doesn't mean I support the things the game portrays. If you consume Call of Duty media be it the games or fanfiction, does that mean you support what the game supports? What the creators of the games support? What militaries around the world support?

Think about that next time.

I’ve made my stance very clear here before, but I’ll do it again. In real life, I am anti military, anti war, anti gun violence, anti genocide, anti fascism, anti terf, anti homophobia, anti conservative, anti rape, anti domestic violence, anti colonialism and pro choice.

Just because I may create or consume media with those things in it, does not mean I support them. It's high time some of these pearl clutchers learn that.

The next time you want to come into a creator's inbox or comments and spew hatred towards them because of the things they write, why don't you do something useful with your time instead.

This will be my only discussion on this topic. I will not be answering any more asks like this. I will delete and block anyone who tries to come "well actually"-ing into my inbox. If you don't agree with this stance, then get off my blog and block me.

#free Palestine #free congo #free Sudan #free everyone living under a colonial apartheid regime #this was not directed at you anon #I just used you in the general sense #unless you think like that then it was #answered

[hunnymisworld]

How Haikyuu Characters would respond to you:

When you ask them for help in making the homework.

SFW | Fluff | Crack | Short AU

[READ ME FIRST]

C O N T E X T: You are a 1st year transfer student in Karasuno and you've already adjusted to your new environment as well as the new people you met whom you made friends with. You were having a hard time with a homework and decided to ask for help in your fellow classmates/seniors.

DAICHI SAWAMURA

A P P R O A C H A B L E yet he is kinda intimidating because everybody knows he's the volleyball captain.

He'll show a small smile when you tap his shoulder to call his attention. "Hey y/n, how can i help you?"

Would offer to teach you the homework with every d e t a i l so you would understand. (He doesn't mind if you ask multiple times about the same thing)

A PATIENT MAN (and understanding too)

"Don't hesitate to ask for help anytime okay?"

He sees you as a younger sibling and finds it cute when you ask him for help.

BIG BROTHER ENERGY (best senpai fr)

Kinda serious when he teaches you the lesson, he's eager for you to learn.

Would ask you follow-up questions to make sure you really understood.

The type to even stay-up-late with you when you ask for a tutor in the upcoming exam ( FOR FREE?!?!? - yes. )

Gives you his phone number cause he does not use social media that much. In case you needed any help with academics or whatsoever.

YOU ACED THE HOMEWORK!

YU NISHINOYA & RYUNOSUKE TANAKA

You can easily find them near the vending machine playing rock-paper-scissors to know who's going to pay for who's snack/drink. (tough battle - Who do you think pays most of the time? You can leave a comment.)

"Stop messing around noya! A junior is here to ask something"

"Ow! Did you really have to hit me- **gets hit again** Oh- Hi Y/n how can your seniors help you?"

Would gladly help you and buy you snacks too!

They lead you where they usually hang out during free time and scan what your homework is about.

"Here, can i see?" Nishinoya offered to look at the homework first and you handed him your noteook.

Ryu was beside him, he was also trying to see what your homework is about.

Scan....scan... Read.... Read...

"What is this? Did we even learn this way back? Do you remember any of this ryu?"

"GIve me that! Stupid-ass. That's what you get for cutting classes. Good for you that you were able to be a senior" (Yes, ryu just snatched your notebook from noya)

BRO WAS OFFENDED

"HEY! That was- fine! It's true. Why would i argue with an even dumber person like you"

You were literally just standing there while they bicker like 🧍‍♀️ T.T (poor y/n getting flustered - wondering how to react)

"Can you stop Noya, let me handle this. SHHHH i can't focus"

Noya really said 😧😑🙂 (bro was GAGGED)

After a while.... yes they indeed remembered the lesson and eventually stopped bickering.

They summerized the lesson for you and explained the concept of the lesson. You were then able to answer all the questions which they checked.

"There all done!" Noya happily said while Ryu was having his moment being the best senpai ever.

"Easy peasy" "Lemon squeezy"

You were relieved and thanked them after. You also offered to get them ice cream next time you bump into each other to thank them for helping you (Literally ATE UP your free time from all that bickering T.T nevertheless, you were grateful)

2 MISTAKES! NOT BAD!! (You got 4 thumbs up from them both and they congratulated you)

SUGAWARA KOSHI

He would be the one to approach you since he noticed you were having a hard time since the morning recess. Brows furrowed while you were scanning your note book.

"Hey Y/n! How are you? I noticed you were having a hard time since the morning. Do you need help?"

You were on the verge of crying for being frustrated at not understanding the lesson. He noticed it and patted your back as he smiled at you warmly.

A COMFORT PERSON FR (he's such a sunshine)

Makes you calm down first so that you'd be able to clear your mind for you to understand the lesson completely.

"How are you feeling? Do you feel calm now? Don't worry, anything can be learned. Don't pressure yourself too much, you just have to give yourself enough time to learn it okay? Let yourself be a beginner too."

You smile warmly at his words. He seems to always know what to say to make a person calm down.

He explained the concept to you as simple as he can and gave you an outline of the lesson so that you have a guide.

He bought you your comfort food to help calm your nerves and walked you back to your classroom cause he was worried.

"Just approach me if you need tutoring okay? Your mental health matters, don't be too hard on yourself. Don't doubt yourself and your capabilities, you are an amazing person who is also capable of making mistakes. You're human too."

You hugged him as you felt how sincere he was and he patted your back.

YOU ACED IT YEY!! (our soft-hearted y/n awww)

KIYOKO SHIMIZU

IS YOUR BESTFRIEND!! (sees you as her little sibling)

Left her notebooks on your desk with a cute note saying:

" Don't be upset, you'll get it i promise you. Here are my notes from 1st year and it's concept is described there in the simplest form. I know you'll be able to understand it when you read it. If you have any questions just text me, i'm arranging the boys' volleyball team practice match with Nekoma right now so i was not able to hand it to you personally. Take care xoxo!

PS: let me know if you want to watch the match, i'll get you a ticket"

SHE IS THE SWEETEST

You understood her notes pretty easily as she said on her note

You texted her and said thank you for the notes and offered to buy her snacks when she's not busy anymore.

She replied with:

" You're welcome 🩷. Sure!!"

She's the best sister fr.

KEI TSUKISHIMA

Will turn his back on you as you approach him T.T

"No. I know what you're going to ask for"

Damn :((

As you walk out of the classrom to ask others who can help you with the homework, he secretly puts his notebook in your bag for you to have a guide for the homework.

"dumb-ahh."

Yes, he left a note and stick in inside his notebook saying:

"Everything is here. You better not text or annoy me. Study on your own. I need my notebook back by tomorrow"

You were surprised and touched that he knows how to show he cares.

OFC YOU ACED IT!!

SHOYO HINATA & TOBIO KAGEYAMA

Before you even have the chance to ask them, THEY WILL ASK FOR YOUR HELP FIRST T.T

They don't understand the lesson either

"Hey y/n, do you understand the lesson? Can you help us?"

BOTH OF THEM LOOKING AT YOU SO HELPLESS AND SHOYO IS ABOUT TO CRY T.T (poor baby)

You looked at them shocked and said "I'm surprised and flattered that you think that I understood the topic but I ALSO DON'T KNOW T.T"

You and HInata cried while Kageyama left you both to ask for help (don't worry he intends to teach you the concept of the lesson to after he learned it from someone who can help)

You ended up having a mini group study with them and Kageyama was able to explain the concept sucessfully.

"Woah Kageyama, i have this much respect for you now. Didn't know you had this side in you" the orange haired guy said.

"Shut up, i'll never set for you again if you manage to fail this homework"

ALL OF YOU ACED IT!!

E N D

Note: You can comment for other character request.

#haikyuu #haikyuu headcanons #sawamura daichi #daichi x reader #ryunosuke tanaka #tanaka ryuunosuke #nishinoya yuu #haikyuu nishinoya #nishinoya x reader #sugawara koushi #sugawara x reader #haikyuu sugawara #kageyama tobio #haikyuu tobio #tobio kageyama x reader #hq x reader #hq #hq fluff #hq fanfic #hinata shoyo #haikyuu shoyo #shoyo x reader #kei tsukishima #tsukishima kei #tsukishima x reader #kiyoko shimizu #kiyoko x reader #hq kiyoko

[hellinistical]

Minors dni. Reblogs highly appreciated.

Tw: cannibalism, fingering, oral (fem receiving), non-con, sub-reader, afab reader, stalking, kidnapping, blood, descriptive body horror, unprotected sex,

gojo, sukuna, childe, rafayel, xavier, knives.

Wc: 2.8k

He didn't mean to stalk you.

He didn't intend for it to go this far.

But he definitely didn't want to stop.

Behind the bushes in front of your window, he watched.

Watched you clean. Watched you eat. Watched you sleep.

What a pretty thing.

His fingers curled around the Japanese knife in his hand, but he took a deep breath, goosebumps rising on his skin as he imagined it all: First, the knife in his hands would glide through the skin on your cheeks, right by your lips. He'd give you a kiss and a permanent smile, digging his thumbs into the raw dermis. He'd take the two pieces and taste them. Would it be warm and savory? Maybe a bit tangy? The blood would surely be. Maybe he'd take a strip from your thighs next. The fatty areas would surely be delicious. But no, he wanted this to last longer, see where it went.

⁛⁛⁛

He saw you again- at the Walgreens this time.

He knew when you went to pick up your prescription- the one for the migraines. The anxiety. So he grabbed a job. Just as a cashier, nothing big, nothing special. Just enough to make small talk.

Though you'd usually only come for your medication, sometimes you'd grab yourself a treat. Press ons, the ones with the French tips. Maybe just for a day, for a party. Chocolate, the one with the hazelnuts. Never minded which brand it was, so long as it satiated that sweet tooth.

He remembered the thought he had that first day, when he imagined you. Bare, splayed out in the table, his hands in your blood, a toothpick in his mouth.

He wondered if you'd be as sweet as the chocolate you bought.

⁛⁛⁛

When you spoke to him the first time, it was with a sympathizing tone. Did he make up a sob story for the masses? Was it highly unlikely? Yeah, but he was just a stranger, so who cared? You gave him the benefit of doubt, and he bathed his mind in it.

You leaned in closer, only to read his name tag really, but he made his move anyways, pulling you into a little dip, as if he were wanting a dance. And he did. But the way his name rolled off your tongue, he needed it.

That was what he got this job for.

So he quit the very next day.

⁛⁛⁛

You asked him out. A small date, just to the movies. He found out you liked horror.

He remembered it.

⁛⁛⁛

You've been feeling…off lately. Like you were being watched, even in the bathroom. Your anxiety rose, and so did your stress.

So did your migraines.

⁛⁛⁛

You were running. Just a morning jog, something to clear your mind. But your adrenaline was pumping. You couldn't think straight.

The feeling- that stupid feeling that you were being watched! It crawled up your legs, your chest, gripling your heart before it got to your brain.

Then it was dark.

⁛⁛⁛

How did you get here, with your fingertips begging for clearance on the edges of the protruding, crumbling brick wall? With stale air, heavy with a metallic scent?

His breath was hot on your skin, trailing up your neck to your jaw to your ear. His right hand rested under your breast, the left on your hip, holding your backside against his pelvis.

"Pretty thing, what do you want?"

His voice was teasing, the hand on your hip now playing with your waistband, his cold fingers threatening to dip past the fabric, to graze your probably more-than-warm skin.

Your grip falters, but before your chin can scrape against the brick, his hand is on your throat. He catches you lightly, the pads of his thumb, index, and middle squeezing your skin gently.

A dry chuckle leaves his lips, the hand under your breast moving to your ass.

"Little love,"

You know to stay quiet, that if you were to even swallow hard his grip would tighten.

Goosebumps litter your skin, and you feel an odd thrill from it all; the rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins as you still your body, your vision hazy but the knife on the table is still very much within his reach.

His hair is soft as it brushes against your shoulder when he leans over. Lips pressed to your skin, they whisper silent promises, not threats. A hand pulls on the waistband of your underwear, and it’s promptly pulled down, a harsh smack landing on your ass. You bite back a yelp, humiliation stinging as tears prick at your eyes. He chuckles, groping the fatty flesh for a moment before resting his hand on your waist, his thumb rubbing circles on your skin.

“And to think you tried to run- although I suppose praise is in order…you managed to surprise me.”

You feel something. Something cool and wet and gliding down your backside; spit. It goes down the curve of your butt, but he takes his hand, smearing it down to your folds, his thumb pushing past for a mere second before pulling away. He licked his thumb, and an airy laugh left his lips. His thumbs move down to your hips, pressing into the dips as he leans onto you, pushing your stomach into the bricks even more. It hurts, your chin is probably scratched, and you're cold, but damn it, you don't feel shame as you feel your knees shake in anticipation.

“You know, I didn’t expect you to actually believe that I was the pizza guy. Then again, I suppose having the prop did help. But still, you didn’t even question why the box wasn’t warm. Say…”

His voice trailed off as he pulled you away from the wall. Turning you over onto your back, he grabbed your chin softly, a faux kind smile on his face.

“You seem pretty flushed out, Y/n. You got goosebumps all over you.”

Taking your wrists with one hand, he guided you to the table, sliding the knife carelessly off of it as he laid you down on it.

"I wonder- and you can speak this time baby, I won't do anything, promise… I wonder if you're actually enjoying my touch. Maybe not the situation- I'd hope not the situation cause then you'd be a little fucked up- but maybe the touches." He giggles again, and you feel your stomach churn.

"I'm not fucked up."

"Oh? So you like my touches then?"

"I didn't say that."

It's like he can't stop laughing, and it seems mocking as he gets onto the table halfway, hovering over you.

He leans close to your face, close enough that you can see all the small blemishes on his cheeks.

"You didn't need to. I can feel it."

As if to prove a point, his hand goes to your thighs, sliding to your labia. Your legs instantly close around his wrist, thighs clamping down. He disregards it though, instead just pressing a kiss to your lips swiftly as he pushes two fingers into you to the knuckle. He swallows your gasp, the hand that was supporting his weight sneaking behind your neck, pushing you deeper into the kiss, the two fingers in you making a scissor motion widely, slowly.

Your eyes couldn't get any wider, truly. It was comical, how he managed to do just what he imagined: get you splayed out, bare and ready.

Though his appetite was gone, another one was readily introduced, and he gladly welcomed it.

He leans to kiss you again and you turn your head away, but he chases your lips anyways taking one, two, three kisses from you. He pulls his fingers out of you, disregarding the involuntary whine that left you as he licked his hand clean again.

You try to clamp your legs shut for good this time, but he forces them open, cupping your heat, pushing his palm where your clit was.

You all but hiss, back arching off the table before he pressed his free hand into your stomach, pushing you back down into the wood.

Your skin was ridiculously soft, and he thought about just how truly thin the layers of the skin were…. Why if he could just-

No, he couldn't. He needed to save this.

Instead, he nips at your neck, exhaling slowly.

"You know, I've been watching you- you probably knew that, right? You're a smart girl. I know; I've seen you study. You work hard, it's admirable. A shame there won't be any more of that."

His pinky and thumb separate your lips, and he pressed his index and middle finger in, not waiting for a response.

You didn't notice it till now: his skin was oddly cool, a stark contrast from your hot skin.

Mouth falling open, you inhale sharply, refusing to cry, to give him a sense of what you think would give him satisfaction.

His fingers go at a leisurely pace again, curling occasionally, searching, searching…ah, there it was. That spot.

He grins into the crook of your neck as he feels you tense up.

"That easy, huh?"

He doesn't allow you to talk, too busy abusing your cunt. Feeling the drool slide down the corner of your mouth to his cheek, he giggles again- that damned giggle.

You reach for any purchase, anything but him. Wincing as splinters dig into the skin of your hands, you don't ignore the pain, wanting the distraction from the man above you. Your heart beats faster, and he hears it, taking it as an opportunity to have the hand on your cunt move to rub up and down your slit.

Your lips part, your eyebrows try to meet. It was too many sensations; the fear of what was happening, the pain from the wood digging into your skin, the pleasure from the unwanted persistence of him. And that smile he wore.

There was something unnatural about it.

But whether you were more scared of him or the fact that you were enjoying this…that was what terrified you. Maybe you were fucked up.

But something surprising happened.

He stopped. You stopped.

"If you want me to stop, all ya gotta do is say so."

His hand almost retreats before you protest.

⁛⁛⁛

It's the first good look he has at your cunt. It's glistening, and pretty, and that feeling of hunger rises again. He salivated.

Swallowing thickly, he pushes himself off the table, opting to wrap his arms around your thighs, pulling you to the edge, bringing your legs to his shoulders. He bites your thigh, pressing his nose into it. The smell is dizzying. Sweat, arousal, and something else he can't quite name. But he loves it all the same.

His attention goes back to your pussy, and he levels with it, hot breath fanning over your folds.

Again you pull back, and again you're pulled back.

A low moan vibrates through him, almost muffled as he presses his tongue flat, licking a long stripe between your folds to your clit, teasing the bundle of nerves. You try your best to be quiet, small whimpers and pleas escaping every now and then. It spurs him on, his tongue curious, messy as spit and juices mix, the sounds coming from the combination disgustingly hot. Your walls clamped down onto his tongue, and his eyes rolled back.

He knew to save you.

His mouth wraps around your more than puffy clit, and as if he were making out with it, he sucks it hard before releasing it with a delightful pop, only to grab it with his teeth, biting gently. And again he brings his fingers, burying them again into you. A chuckle escapes him as you spew obscenities. He pulls back for a breath.

"I watched, you know. Your fingers… they weren't cutting it. You need this. You need me…you do. You really do…"

The pads of his fingers are rough, you can feel the callouses against your walls, but you can't seem to care.

A knot was forming in your stomach, and when he pressed his hand down right below your naval you choked on your breath, releasing.

With a content sigh, he drank you, a sheen of what was left resting on his chin when he rose up.

Tired, nearly overstimulated, you push yourself up, wary.

"Enough, you, I won't tell, I swe-"

"Shh, shh, shhh." He pressed a finger to your lips. You can taste yourself.

Rising back to his feet, he stands, unbuttoned his pants. Your eyes widened and you backed up, only for him to grab your ankle hard. It would bruise, his grip stronger than you expected.

"I'm not done. Stay still."

His tone briefly reminds you of the knife on the floor.

Your mind is still reeling, your legs still twitching from the abrupt orgasm. But he ignores it all, slipping himself out of his briefs. It's too fast, all of this. Too much, when his grip on your ankle hurts. Too much, when he twists it hard, no doubt spraining it as he holds it high to his shoulder, your other leg around his hip. Too much, when he swallows your scream with a kiss, pressing the head of his cock into you.

He shudders, the first sensation of your walls around him euphoric. He felt a high, and he had half a mind to just taste more of you right there.

The knife was on the floor though, and he was too engrossed to be bothered to grab it. Instead, he bit into your calf, his cuspids breaking the skin. Oh, how he loved that look on your face. The bleach eyes, the tears, the snot cause you can't stop crying…it was beautiful to him. All of it.

Warmth flooded his mouth the same as it engulfed his cock, but he wanted more. So again he bit, tearing the bite in your calf a little wider, the piece he managed to rip off resting on his tongue. It was like veal, or pork. Sweet, savory, firm. He moaned at the taste, swallowing slowly, savoring the remnants of the flavor that rested on his tongue. You mewled, terrified, excited, tired as his hips began to move.

It was awful, yet amazing. Contradictions and hypocritical all at the same time. It didn't matter to either of you, not when he pushed into you further, his shaft dipping in and out as you spread for him. Your clenched tightly, almost too much so before he tells you to relax, as if he hadn't just taken a bite from you. But you try. You really try. But it's not until he gets to the hilt that you release the tension. He grins, teeth faintly red from your blood. You can see a part of your skin in his mouth, but you don't have time to think, not when he thrusts in, and out, in, and out again and again.

He looks at your face, your slack expression making him giddy, more so than he's been the entire night. Something tugs at the back of his mind, telling him to take what he wants.

So he does.

He takes, and takes, and takes till your convulsing, eyes nearly rolled to the back of your sockets, bloody and drained, ready to meet your maker. But he's not satisfied yet.

Close, but not yet.

You look at him, pleading for him to let go, but it's impossible to, not when you look so pretty like this.

Hands on your hips with a bruising grip, your ankle is swollen, medical attention disregarded as it rests on the edge of the table, your leg off his shoulder. Your fine leg is still on his hip, your heel digging into the end of his back, right above his ass. You arch your back, becoming desperate to finish this already, but you know that's not your purpose right now.

"Can't…" He starts between skipped breaths, the adrenaline finally catching up to him, "can't believe no one's had the thought… they're all blind. All of them- you... you're perfect. Pretty, delicious. Sustainable. The rest... They're animals."

You didn't get it, too busy chasing a high you might not get.

He moans, leaning down into you, his arms on either side of you, his face pressed into your stomach. He'd surely go crazy from you. He was close, you both knew it. The way his movements became uncoordinated and sloppy, it was all telltale signs.

"When I'm done- I'm coming back, and don't you forget it. 'Kay?"

You nod yes. Of course you do.

And even if you didn't, he'd take it as one.

His balls tightened, and he felt it, the familiar sensation of release. Except instead of being on pictures of you, it was in you. He bit into your stomach, his arms slipping underneath you, pulling you closer as he came deep into you. You gasped, your palms digging into his shoulders, attempting to push him away, but he would not let up.

He laughs, loud, rambunctious, victorious.

And bile builds up in your throat. You swallow it back, demanding yourself not to throw up.

Salty tears stream down your face, but he ignores it. Soft, he pulls out. Happy.

And before you can get up, the knife is in his hands.

#pandoras box writing #drabble #afab reader #x y/n #x yn #x reader #hellenistical #fanfiction #ns/fw #smut #gore #gojo x reader #sukuna x reader #childe x reader #xavier x reader #rafayel x reader #love and deepspace #genshin #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader smut #genshin x reader smut #love and deepspace smut #love and deepspace x reader #genshin x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader smut #sukuna x reader smut #childe x reader smut #xavier x reader smut #rafayel x reader smut

[psych3-delic]

You've mentioned that Sebastian a a very powerful demon and that Charlotte is the first of her kind. This makes me wonder whar exactly is Sebastian's position in Hell and what are its denizens reaction to his husband and child? Do they cause trouble? Do they keep away out of fear? Love your AU to pieces!

Hiiii Anon! Thank you so much for liking this AU! And sorry for the late reply!

Well, since Hell isn't exactly like human's society, it's hard to equate. But if I have to compare, I'd say that he's like an Arch Duke or a Marquess in Hell.

Oh, Hell doesn't take kindly to the news of Sebastian's progeny being carried by a human pleb. It's a shame to its denizens. To fool around with human and use them for all sorts of pleasures, sure. But for someone so strong to sire a child with such weakling, a hybrid at that, it's unspeakable abomination!

They tried many times to attack and end both Ciel and the child's life. If Ciel thought he had a huge target on his back before being the young Earl Phantomhive and the Queen's watchdog, that was nothing compared to this... Hell and heaven both out for his blood. But of course, Sebastian handled them all; absorbed all his brethren into the endless shadows of his being with such ferocity never seen before in the ancient entity. Eventually, Morning Star understand that Sebastian was not relenting his protection on the boy and his hybrid child, and wanting to see how this hybrid might survive, maybe even disturb the set order of the universe, he ordered the demonic legions to stand down.

But that doesn't means all is well for Butler and Earl. There's yet another struggle they're faced with; this one isn't so easy to deal with by force.

As I have said before, the demon fetus, with its demonic appetite feasting on human life force, is nothing short of a parasite. The reason Ciel was still alive was because the fetus needs him. The moment it’s no longer reliant on its host, it will kill Ciel. As such, at the beginning of the pregnancy, Sebastian wanted to remove the thing,(he'll even do it without Ciel's consent, just to see him live a bit longer, despite knowing Ciel will hate him). But Ciel saw through him and ordered Sebastian to protect them both. Sebastian could only obey. But he hated that parasite and was struggling to come to terms with the fact that Ciel’s already short human life (and their time together) is cut even shorter still because of this thing. And Ciel won’t let Sebastian save him, just because it’s theirs. Just because it’s his. Human are so different from Demons like that.

For the first time in eons of existence, Sebastian learned to mourn. And what a weird thing that was, when Ciel is still right here. But the end is nigh and it’s inevitable.

Sebastian is unsure whether he could ever come to love a thing that would take Ciel away from him. But Ciel is confident that he could, and he would. It’s their child after all.

#Kuroshitsuji #black butler #au #mpreg #family au #Charlotte Phantomhive #ciel Phantomhive #sebastian michaelis #sebasciel #sebaciel #ask #anon #art #my arts #angst

[helloiamadrawer]

𝚃𝙰𝙳𝙲 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜 🎪

Warnings: none! just general/cute headcanons of the silly circus gang 🤸

Gangle can make some downright delicious matcha green tea, she has a set of cups and ofc tea bags in her room so when anyone in the circus is upset or stressed from a wacky adventure, she'd offer to make some for them. (Jax would probably be the only one to refuse but hey he's missing out)

All of the girls of the circus had a sleepover once (it was definitely Ragatha's idea :) ), and when it came to the most invigorating activity being a pillowfight, Zooble kind of hesitated.

"Yeah, I think I should opt out of this one you do know I hit hard Ragatha..right?"

"Oh come on Zoobs!" Ragatha cheered," If I can take a butcher knife to the head a thousand times you sure can't hit me harder than--oof!" a pillow ricocheted at her face, sending her bouncing around her room like a ball in a pinball machine (imagine the sound like the pinball makes while hitting the machine with the situation that is happening to Ragatha)

Finally coming back to solid ground, stars revolve around her head as she weaves from side to side as Zooble immediately ran to her followed by Pomni and Gangle to help the rag doll up and keep her steady. "I'm so sorry, I told you I hit too hard!" "Are you okay Ragatha?" Pomni asked cautiously, waving a hand in front of her face. "I'm good..no worries." she chuckled lightly, a wavered smile paved on her face from being clocked by a damn pillow. Rest assured, they never did pillowfights again because Zooble kicks too much ass lmaooo

Caine is a great singer AND NO ONE CAN TELL ME OTHERWISE and here's how everyone knew: he left a door open one day leading to some sort of auditorium different than the one at the Tent, Pomni was the first to see the door, she hesitantly stepped into the other world.

An array of seats were swarmed through the area but no Npc's were in any of the seats but on stage there were a group of them singing a very flowing vocal number, it sounded nice and calming and then walking out in the middle of the stage was Caine, after their measure of singing was cut off by a motion of his hand, silence fell over until the chime of a triangle rang out and he started singing ♥️ his voice was remarkable (song below)

Pomni=flabbergasted and in awe that this a.i could sing so well, she could almost feel herself floating from the graceful power of his singing voice she HAD to tell everyone! she ran to everyone's room, spreading the word and by the time Caine finished performing, all the circus members applauded and cheered.

Ragatha and Gangle were crying a little cause it was so beautiful.

Caine was startled at first no one ever came to his singing performances but momentarily starts bowing in reciprocation of the wonderous appreciation for him.

Pomni has actually asked Caine if she could have a change of outfit, guess what the a.i does? JUST GUESS? Bro changes the color theme of her fit b r u h 😂

Jax and Bubble have kissed once but it was off camera

Zooble was so tired one day that the next morning Jax saw them sleeping in her own 'Zooble Box' full of their spare parts. The purple rabbit thought this would be a funny picture on the wall so he snapped one then getting slapped around by the grumpy assortment of parts after

Ragatha loves to bake. She could bake almost everything you could imagine. Her fav thing to make is pineapple upside down cake or peach cobbler 😋

Kinger collects fireflies in mason jars to have some light in his dark little pillowfort during the day and then the following night he sets them free into the night. he thinks of them as his tiny house guards 🥺🥺🥺

Whenever somebody is in emotional turmoil, instead of Ragatha being the one for emotional advice Pomni has learned to take her place sometimes since she has transformed Gummigoo into a more hopeful being after his traumatic realization of him being an npc 🥲

She's invented her own kind of comforting strat s since she has known now that her friends really care about her. You can say it kind of inspired her to be like Ragatha but in her own unique way 💟

Zooble listens to breakcore/vogue music because it helps them with being comfortable with their mix n' match parts and feeling whole. Sometimes feeling like a fem/them queen helps being in this hellhole of a digital realm 💅

Jax would say rizz and not know what it means, just only says it cause it sounds cool 🙄 bro is literally rizzing up ppl in the show (watch the pilot or ep 2 you'll see what i mean)

#tadc #tadc ragatha #tadc zooble #caine tadc #tadc pomni #kinger tadc #tadc gangle #jax tadc #the amazing digital circus #tadc headcanons

[wesavegotham]

I keep reading comics because there are rare gems like Boy Wonder.

But the main continuity? Writers keep thinking taking things away from Bruce (Alfred, his fortune, his company, his house, his hand, his family for the nth time, did I forget something? I fear they are running out of things he can lose) and making him have a mental breakdown over it that causes him to alienate everyone is still a novel concept.

But we've reached a point where it's not every run doing it, which would be somewhat okay with the cyclical nature of comics, but instead it seems to happen multiple times during one run. Can't wait for Bruce to screw up and hit one of the Robins in the face again. Or for a Robin to die. Apparently they will just be back on the next page and we'll never see anybody talk about it because literally nothing matters anymore, even death. If I have to read the batfamily breaking apart, Gotham being taken over by a villain with Batman rumored to be dead, Bruce remembering he needs his family members and then them getting back together with none of the previous drama getting properly adressed one more time...

I'm sorry guys for all the rants this morning. I'm pretty tired right now and...I just want stories to be good. For there to be a creative vision you can analyse. A character arc worth talking about?

I know my rants make me sound very negative. And I guess I am. But it is born out of a love for stories and characters. Older Damian comics like Batman and Robin (2011) or Robin: Son of Batman had good emotional conflicts, themes, character arcs...and simply the writers showing knowledge of DC continuity and what was going on in other books. Or them simply remembering what happened in their own book. But recently you get messes like Gotham War where three or was it even four writers did not seem to be on the same page about what the basic plot was, who wanted what and why they did what they did. Back then a lot of people put most of the blame on Tini Howard (because blaming women, real and fictional, still seems to be people's first instinct) but even back then you could tell that nobody in that group knew what they were doing.

[nethhiri]

Marooned: Chapter 43

Kid x FemReader x Killer

Warnings: Sex and violence (as always)

This one is a longer one bc I worked on it all week long. Hope y'all enjoy <3

Kidding Around

Killer helped you escape Kid's death grip in the morning so you could participate in the sunrise coffee ritual that you had established with him. It was clear that Killer was an expert after so long with Kid, switching you with a pillow that Kid then squeezed to himself. You stood on the bow with Killer, one of his arms casually around your waist. With him, silences weren't awkward. You watched together as the sun peeked over the horizon with its grapefruit-pink rays. They shifted orange then pale yellow as the dawn evolved. 

"What are your goals, Killer?"

"To make Kid king of the pirates."

"After that."

"I doubt Kid will want to stop pirating. Maybe we'll return to our hometown and turn it around. I could have a restaurant." Killer prompted, "And you?"

"I don't know anymore."

His hand squeezed your hip reassuringly. He had noticed that you stopped talking about your revenge as much and that you rarely checked your specialized log pose. He didn't think you had given up on it, just put it on the back burner. 

When the sun climbed high enough in the sky to clear the horizon, you squinted. There was a black shape. "Land ho!" You looked up to the crow's nest wondering who was up there. They weren't doing their job. You caught a glimpse of big, poofy, orange hair as Quincy darted away from the ladder, wearing just a robe, probably trying to avoid being seen before everyone woke up.

"That's odd. I thought Nu was on watch." 

"I think he had a visitor," you said with a cheeky inflection. That's cute. Quincy was with the other ginger on board, the one with the mohawk and tiny glasses. 

"Damn it. I told everyone to knock it off with that shit. They need to be alert."

"I would like to go on record to state I have never hooked up with anyone there."

"You haven't been up there with Wire then. He has a way of talking people out of their pants."

"WIRE?!"

"It's his secret talent."

"Has he....done that to you?" You bit your lip, eyeing him with curiosity. 

"Decline to comment." He headed towards the galley to start breakfast. "Come on. Everyone will be eager to eat and get off the ship."

This island was essentially neutral. There were pirates and marines alike, though the marines were few. They were probably only there to restock supplies. You smirked as you went by a group of them atop Mini's back, daring them to engage you as they stared wide-eyed at your jacket. They decided that you were simply an imitation. The real Sea Snake was dead, obviously. It would be unwise to put them down in public anyway, so you let them be. 

You had left before anyone could stop you, not that they would, but you didn’t want to be burdened with being dragged around for errands. Kid was quite disappointed when he couldn’t find you. He had gone into his workshop to see if there was anything he needed more of, and had finally noticed the small renovation you had done. He had wanted to take you with him while he did business before that, with the intention of ending up conveniently together just in time for dinner, and he wanted that even more now. Kid didn’t want to ask you on a date per se. He did want to be alone with you in a context other than the bedroom, however. You had been showing him favor lately and with the new information that you were similar to him in more ways than he thought, Kid felt more comfortable with the idea of getting close to you. Of course he didn’t like you like that. He simply thought you had potential to graduate from fuck buddy to fuck close friend.  There were a few things you wanted to purchase. First, though, you had been waiting for a chance to be in a more open area. It was very difficult to train with Mini on the ship, both because she was enormous and because you would break the ship. Plus, Mini could use a bit of exercise. Being cramped on the ship for too long wasn’t good for her. Mini walked until you were both deep in the forested part of the island, in a clearing. For several hours, until you were both out of energy, you practiced new skills and techniques. You flopped on Mini as she laid down, both taking a quick rest. 

Hunger woke you from rest. The sun was much lower than it had been when you had closed your eyes. Your nap went longer than intended. You felt very refreshed afterwards though, so you didn’t mind one bit. The two of you headed back towards the ship, Mini split off from you to return, while you kept going to find a place to eat.

Kid was in a bad mood. How hard was it to find a huge raging monster and a boar? All while he was taking care of some errands, he was keeping an eye out for you, but failed to catch a glimpse. Even when he came across the other officers, none of them had seen you either. The thought had crossed his mind that maybe you dipped on them, or worse, maybe someone had taken you. That thought bothered him more than he thought it would. Actually, the longer the day went on without finding you, the more he dwelled on it. He growled to himself, frustrated that he couldn’t shake you from his mind.

You found yourself in a dimly lit, grungy bar. Every man who initially approached you turned tail as soon as they saw your face, whether it was from your stank eye or from your scars, you didn’t know. You were leaned back with your feet kicked up on the table and a beer in your hand, somewhat tucked in the corner of the bar. You liked privacy and you liked being able to see the entire room, no need to look over your shoulder. 

The door swung open, a big red ogre behind it. He looked pissed and stomped straight to the bar. You were surprised Killer wasn’t with him, or anyone for that matter. You called a waitress over and handed her a note to deliver to him. You were going to send him a beer but the bartender put one down in front of him before he even asked. The waitress handed the slip of paper to Kid and scampered away, which was probably for the best since he whipped around angrily to see who sent the note. His eyes didn’t soften, but they did brighten when he saw that it was you. 

“What crawled up my ass?” Kid crumpled the note and threw it at you. He grabbed a chair and dropped his body into it across from you. “YER the one who crawled up my ass.” He pointed in an accusatory way.  Your eyebrow twitched up. “Me?” You looked him up and down. “If I was in your ass, you wouldn’t look so mad. I promise you that.” 

“Shut up.” Kid rolled his eyes. “I’ve been lookin for ya all day. Thought ya might have got stolen.”

“Bet you would have loved if someone took me off your hands.” You have him a questioning look. “But why? Need me for something?”

Kid reached across the table and tugged your collar. “Nah, yer mine now, girlie. They would have ta take ya from my cold, dead hands.” He grinned so big it almost split his face in two. “And that’s not happenin.” 

That made your heart quicken. You looking into his amber eyes, hiding your soft spot for him. “You still didn’t answer the question.”

”Ah, well,” Kid didn’t have a great excuse. He wasn’t going to tell you the true reason. “Was gonna see if ya wanted to spar with me.” What a dumb fuckin lame-ass excuse. Idiot! 

You shrugged. “Sure.” Weird that something as small as simply wanting to spar upset him earlier. There was definitely more behind it. 

“Really? I mean good.” He swirled the beer around in his mug.  There was a bit of an awkward silence. 

Clearing your throat, you mentioned, “I have some things to do first. Didn’t get to em today.” You tapped your fingertips on the table. “Was gonna ask Heat to come with me cuz I need more clothes and he’s good at picking outfits, but I guess you could come.” You quickly added, “If you want. Because it’s just easier that way.” The dim lighting hid the blush on your face. 

“Ha! I’m way better at picking outfits than Heat.” Kid leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms.

”Real outfits, Kid,” you warned, “Not lingerie.” 

“Yeah yeah. Real clothes. Whatever.” He waved you off, cursing you mentally for putting images of you in lingerie into his head.

You both sat and drank your beers, Kid propping his feet up on the table as well. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him stare at you a few times. What’s that about? Your ears perked up when some very drunk man was asking about how someone disabled could be a pirate, assuming they were talking about you with your missing eye. It was clear who they were talking about when he made a joke about an unarmed pirate captain.

It did tick you off when people talked about your imperfections, but fuck did it have you seeing red when you realized it was directed at Kid. You could tease him and make fun of him. You would NEVER bring his involuntary amputation into it, however. That was crossing a line. You don’t even think he heard it, judging from his lack of reaction and how he looked at you in confusion as you got up from the table. You didn’t feel like behaving tonight. There was an itch for violence that you needed to scratch. Maybe defending Kid was just an excuse to let some steam off. He certainly didn't need you to defend him.

”Wanna say that again?” You stood at the man’s table, palms resting flat against it.  The man grimaced when he saw your face. “What? You defending your cripple boyfriend? Seems about right an ugly cunt like you would be with him.” 

“It seems that you don’t know who either of us are.” You smiled at him and his companions. Anyone who had heard of Eustass Kid would know that he was far from incapable with one arm. “That’s cute. You must have been on the sea for what? Five minutes?”

The man’s companions laughed nervously as he kept up. “Bitch, if you’re not gonna take that prosthetic out and let me skull-fuck that butchered face, I would get lost.”

You reached up and pulled your log pose from your eye socket, rolling it around in your fingers. Faster than he could react, you grabbed his hair, slammed his face on the table, pulled it back up, and shoved your eye into his mouth as far back as you could push it. “Swallow it.” His eyes were wild and he clawed at the arm holding his hair. “I said SWALLOW IT.” 

He gagged and choked, holding his throat, before gasping for air. “WHAT THE FUCK?” His eyes were watery as he stared at you with bewilderment. 

“Actually, I’m gonna need that back.” You grabbed a steak knife from the table and grinned at him.

”No please…” The man was sweating, scared shitless.

“Apologize to him.” You pointed at Kid, who was still relaxed in his seat, enjoying the show. 

“I-I’m sorry, S-sir.”

”Eustass Kid,” you corrected.

The man’s eyes widened with realization, that he fucked up big time. He started to plead for his life almost immediately.

You thrusted the knife into his stomach and tore it open. “Unfortunately, I do still need that.” His hands tried to grab yours away but kept slipping from the blood. His screams were really fucking up the atmosphere of the bar. You pushed into the open wound with your hand, searching for your eye. “Skull-fuck, huh? You’re lucky I don’t have a dick or I’d fuck you right in this warm, wet hole of yours.” Your hand found what it was looking for and retrieved the small orb. Dunking it in his companion’s beer, you cleaned it off and stuck in right back where it belonged. 

His two companions, trembling and trying not to catch your eye, dragged him off, leaving a trail of blood behind. He might live. You thought about cutting his arm off since he had such nice things to say about Kid’s amputated limb, but what you did was much more satisfying and cruel. 

You felt a metallic arm pulling you into Kid’s lap. “Yer so fuckin hot when ya get like this,” Kid growled in your ear lowly.

You grabbed his beer, having finished your own, and chugged the rest of it. “This bar sucks. Let’s go somewhere else.” You trailed a finger down his exposed chest. “I feel like fucking some shit up.”

Kid’s signature laugh rang out through the bar. “Then let’s fuck some shit up.” He grabbed your chin. “How could I say no to a bonnie lass like yerself?” 

You made a fake retching noise. “Quit with that flattery bullshit.” Kid didn’t have to do any of that. If he wanted to fuck, you were down. “I’ll fuck you later.”

Kid frowned as you took his hand and dragged him out of his seat. He meant what he said. Of course, he wanted to fuck, too. Beside the point, you let Killer say nice things about you, but you didn’t take Kid seriously and that bothered him. 

You and Kid started a fight with anyone that looked at you sideways. Kid held someone still for you to beat up and you did the same for him, laughing maniacally as you did so. Alternating between knocking someone’s lights out, getting sloshed at different bars, and making out in dark corners, the two of you ended up walking to the very edge of the island. There wasn’t much else but beach here. You had no idea what time it was and no idea how you were still standing. Kid supported your weight as you walked through the sand in an incredibly unsteady gait. There was a piece of driftwood that was just big enough for you two to sit on. You leaned heavily against Kid and he put the excess fabric of his coat around your shoulders. 

For how drunk you were, Kid was impressed with how you deftly undid his belts and snuck your hand into his pants. It was known by now that arousal came as a package deal with your aggression. His thick shaft hardened quickly under your hand, happy to oblige whatever needs you had. Kid let his head fall back, enjoying the feeling of your small hand struggling to jerk him off. He let out an impatient huff when your hand started to slow, before stopping altogether. His amber eyes flicked to where your hand was limp around his cock and your head rested in his lap. “What the fuck?” That bitch fell asleep. Kid groaned. It was feeling so good too. He swallowed thickly. You clearly wanted to give him a handy, so there wasn’t anything wrong with helping you finish the job, right? He stuck his own hand down his pants and enveloped yours with his grip, tightening your hold on his cock. The feeling of doing something just a little bit wrong and in public to boot, sent a thrill right to his balls. He finished himself quickly with your hand, his pulsing cock emptying into it with a grunt. Kid snickered to himself with the thought of you waking up with your hand dried shut.

Kid had already pissed you off, not because your hand had been glued shut with his cum, which was admittedly funny, but because he had to put his two cents into every single thing you looked at. You wanted a second weapon to dual wield. You loved your gunblade and it was versatile though it still had limits. Every weapon you picked up, Kid chided you for picking something so low quality. You were deeply regretting inviting him along. You picked up a curved sword to inspect the blade.

”Shit metal. Shit craftsmanship.” Kid’s arms were folded and he looked just as annoyed as you did.

You finally stood toe to toe with him, pressing your finger to his sternum. “If you think everything in this town is shit, why don’t you make me something useful. Impress me, magnet boy.” 

“Magnet man.” Kid unfolded his arms. “Fine. I will. And it’ll be so good it’ll blow yer tits off.” He went to flick your nipple but you slapped his hand away.

After perusing possibly every weapon this town had to offer, you moved on to your next task: clothes shopping. Kid had actually picked out some tasteful outfits. He did manage to sneak a few, more risqué items in, though they were cute so you did entertain the idea of buying them. You also found a little outfit that Kid agreed Heat would be enamored with. You found a few more things, including some more bold choices, since you wouldn’t fit in without at least one pair of stupid ugly pants. You threw everything into a pile and returned with your normal clothes on. When you went to pay, the man behind the counter said that your boyfriend had already paid.

It shouldn’t piss you off but it did. “I told you to stop doing that shit.” You jabbed Kid’s side and grabbed the bag from his hands. 

“Doing what?” 

You couldn’t even say it without getting embarrassed. “You know.” You held the bag up. “The compliments and … nice gestures.” You huffed. “It’s weird. We’re not…anything.” Kid was just your fuck buddy, nothing more. No feelings were involved, or that’s what you told yourself. 

Kid knew that was true, though he thought he might want to be something to you. “Didn’t say we were. I can’t do something nice?”

”You’re Eustass Kid. You’re not nice.” 

“Whatever. Ungrateful hag.”  “Thank you. Much better.” You smiled at him.  Kid grumbled and complained for the rest of your shopping trip, eventually dragging you to a street vendor to eat since he was getting progressively more hangry. This time you paid, insisting on it to make yourself even with him. You both got some kind of saucy meat on a stick and found a tree to sit under. Kid wolfed his down in about a minute while you took a few more to finish yours. 

“What?” You said sharply, noticing Kid snickering at you.

”Yer a messy eater, ain’t ya?”

You froze as he used his thumb to wipe sauce from your cheek, popping it in his mouth. You huffed, mostly to avoid blushing. 

Kid seemed like he had something on his mind. “About the other night…”

”I won’t mention it. Don’t worry.” You knew he had a reputation to keep up.  “I was going to thank ya.”

”Oh. It’s not a big deal.” You sighed. “Listen I know what I just said, but it is refreshing to see that you’re not always a giant dickhead.”

He made a noise of acknowledgment. “We both loved her. Victoria. It was a child’s crush, but it was real enough to both of us at the time.” He had heard Killer explain some of it to you that night. 

”I never had anything like that.” 

“Would ya like to?” 

It was only human to crave affection, and you would be lying if you said you hadn't thought about it before. It would be easier not to have attachments holding you back. It may also make your life less depressing. There were pros and cons to each side. You never got far with the notion since there was no one you had been interested in on that level, or any level. 

Kid mistook your extended silence for offense. “In general. Ya know. Not … with me.” Unless she wants me like that. He let his voice trail off.

“That would complicate things.” You pulled your knees up and rested your head on them. 

“But it might be worth it.”

"Was it worth it to you?" 

Kid knew you were referring to their past with Victoria. "Aye." No matter how much it tore him up some days, he wouldn't trade it. As Killer said, you had to go through certain things to be who you were today, and Kid liked who he was and what he had in his life currently.

After dropping your bags at the ship, you walked with Kid towards the clearing that you and Mini found. A few minutes passed, filled only with the sound of chirping birds and leaves shifting against each other in the breeze. Your hands swung close enough to each other that you could feel the wind from Kid's hand. “I saw that ya missed me enough to connect our spaces again.” Kid teased. He couldn’t take the stretch of silence, not after the slightly down conversation from earlier, and he hadn’t yet gotten to mention that he noticed the change.

”Hypothetically, what if I were to say that I enjoy your company… occasionally.”

“I would say that of course ya do. Everyone enjoys me.” Kid had a smirk on his face, yet underneath, there was a big goofy grin threatening to break through ad your admission. 

“Mhm.”  “Hypothetically I enjoy starin at yer ass when yer workin,” Kid offered. 

”That’s not a hypothetical.”

The clearing was empty. It seemed as though no one else had found your spot. It felt odd to square up to Kid for a fight where you weren’t trying to kill each other for real. The agreed on rules were no use of devil fruit, but weapons were fair game. You could end the fight with one touch of your hand with your devil fruit, which is why you didn’t want to use it.

Standing across from Kid, you could appreciate his stature, broad shoulders, strong physique. He wasn’t cut like Killer was. There was a bit more meat to him, filling out his stomach in very pleasing way. You had to stop yourself from dwelling on it, or this was not going to be a fight at all. 

Kid came at you first. Normally you used your speed to dodge and land an attack in an opening. This time you blocked him. He did the same thing to your punch. It filled you with a sense of pride that you could match him in strength like this. The hits from his metal arm hurt worse. It wasn’t a conscious choice, but both of you had started by holding back, not completely willing to hurt the other. The competitiveness between you, however, quickly caused you to start putting your full weight behind everything. You could hear Kid growl as you narrowly avoided his fist, which instead splintered a tree trunk. You used the opportunity to land a kick in his side. He wheezed for a second before coming after you again. A big sweeping motion with his metal arm took you by surprise, knocking you to the ground. Using the momentum from rolling, you hopped back up in time to miss another attack from Kid. 

The taste of blood was in your mouth. It seemed he had split your lip. You licked the red liquid decorating your mouth, steeling yourself to get more serious. Pulling out your gunblade, you shot several times in seemingly random directions. It was habit not to shoot at Kid since his devil fruit could deflect bullets. Large branches from the surrounding trees fell around him in a way that made it difficult to dodge them all and forced him to remain in one space.

You followed right behind the branches, taking a running leap at Kid’s back. Before you could press your blade to his throat, he shed his feathered coat that you were holding on to, causing you to fall in an ungraceful way. You had to quickly roll to dodge Kid’s next attack. He had taken out his own gun and sent a bullet into the ground you had just occupied. 

Kicking out forcefully in Kid’s direction, you connected with his leg, destabilizing him enough that you could launch yourself from the ground to tackle him. He was quick to prevent you from getting him into a grappling hold. Kid grabbed your wrist and slammed it on the ground, forcing you to release your grip on your gunblade. In a flash he had both your wrists caught and your legs pinned under his own. Kid held his head back, knowing that your counter would be to headbutt him. 

The afternoon angle of the sun bounced orange rays from your fiery eyes, the light glistened off the thin sheen of sweat on your Y/S/C skin, and it lit your hair up like a flame, the way it was wildly strewn behind you only enchanted the effect. Kid was entranced by the heave of your chest as you caught your breath and the playfully aggressive gaze fixed on his own face. Red caught his attention, blood spilling slowly from the cut in your lip. Suddenly, he was transfixed by the crimson bead, lowering his mouth to meet yours, sucking the iron-tinged from your lower lip. A silvery thread of saliva connected you as he pulled away. He searched your face for any sign to stop and found only molten desire. 

There was a tangle of limbs, hands weaving through hair, sloppy wet kisses, and indecent sounds. Kid's weight pressed against you and his grip keeping you in place had placed impure thoughts in your mind even before he tasted the blood on your lips. That served only to add fuel to the fire burning deep within your core. Deep down you were mad about this weakness, the intense sexual chemistry you had with Kid. In this moment, you were in thrall to it, insatiably grabbing any part of him you could reach. 

A nervous clearing of the throat alerted you both to the presence of Pomp and Reck. Kid grabbed the gun he had knocked from your grasp and you pulled his from his bandolier, both sending a warning shot in their direction. 

"FUCK OFF!" You roared in unison, sending them racing off toward town.

"Can't. Get. Any. Fuckin. Privacy." He said between shoving his tongue down your throat. 

You could feel Kid's cock grinding into your thigh as he hastily ripped your pants down to your knees. You spread your thighs apart as far as the restricting fabric allowed to give Kid's hand access. His flesh fingers wasted no time finding their home in your dripping core, one after the other were inserted impatiently. The stretch as his fingers scissored your opening wider had you groaning into his mouth. Kid eagerly devoured the intoxicating noises slipping from your lips, each one causing his tip to drool. 

"Kid, I ngh-need it. Now." You panted out. 

"Yer not ready yet." 

"I don't care." You grabbed his dick through his pants. "Give it to me before I take it myself." 

Kid slipped a third finger inside, earning another sweet set of sounds from you. "Look at ya, rotten brat. Givin orders to me." He thrusted his fingers a few more times before removing them completely. 

You whined at the empty feeling. "Please." Your thighs rubbed together for friction. 

"Ya want this fat cock?" Kid freed said beast from the confines of his pants, stroking it slowly to give you a show.

You nodded vigorously, freeing your legs from your pants.

Kid pulled your soggy panties to the side, lining himself up with your slit and pushing his dripping mushroom head between your glistening folds. You wrapped your legs over his hips and pulled him inside yourself until you were completely full. Truthfully, Kid would have loved to drag this out and tease you a little more, but your wanton craving for him was really turning him on and there was no doubt someone else from the crew would come interrupt again soon. Kid's metal hand was big enough to wrap under you, holding your body in the palm while the thumb rested over your pussy. The cold metal against your clit was electrifying and you hissed through your teeth when Kid applied pressure. 

"Ya like that?" Kid moved his hand, effectively using you as a human fleshlight. "Yer gonna love this."

A cry of pleasure was ripped from your throat as Kid continued this movement, grinding his cock into your cervix, and added a low vibration with his devil fruit directly above your clit. With barely a warning, an orgasm crashed over you, making you shriek even louder. Kid narrowly held his own release back feeling the gush and pulsation of your climax. He continued to move you up and down his shaft, increasing the vibration in his thumb. The first orgasm was barely over before the second one overcame you. 

"Oh f-uck yes." You moaned. "Use m-me!" 

Kid's pace was erratic. The way your cunt gripped him with its gushy walls was enough to milk his balls dry. "That's right," Kid growled. "Yer my personal cock sleeve. Ya can't get enough of my cum can ya?"

"F-fill me up, C-Captain." You hand pressed down on the thumb of his metal hand, feebly attempting to grind your clit against the vibrations. 

Kid snickered, helping you out by increasing the pressure. Purple energy crackled around your collar as he tightened it around your neck. Your moans were raspier now, though just as needy. "That cunny of yers is suckin me in. She wants my cum so badly, aye?" 

You nodded your head, saliva pooling at the corners of your mouth, unable to swallow. Black tinged the corners of your vision. Your mouth formed a silent cry as Kid tightened your collar further, using you to get off. You twitched and trembled, a final orgasm taking you over. The tingling warmth enveloping you in a bath of endorphins. You were fully caught in your own pleasure, so much so that you missed Kid doubling over you, releasing a cry of his own as he emptied himself into you. He used your body to pump every last drop from himself. 

You gasped as he released his power, sucking fresh air into your lungs to quell your burning muscles. Kid removed himself from you and laid you down flat, pushing your legs back to admire his seed dripping from your hole. He wiped the drips with his fingers and pushed it back inside you, pulling your panties back over your cunt and giving it a pat. 

"Keep it all in, bunny, or I'll have to fill ya up again."

"Yeah? Not much of a threat is it?" You found your pants and dusted yourself off.

As soon as you had your pants on, Kid slung you over his shoulder and cracked your ass with his hand. "No talkin back."

About halfway back to town, Kid let you walk on your own two feet. "Can ya walk or are yer legs still jelly?" He kept his hands hovered above your shoulders in case you fell over.

You grabbed his coat for support. "I'm good." You thought he had picked you up to be an asshole. Was he trying to be helpful? You didn't complain this time. Your legs had been jelly. 

Kid took note of your hand moving from his coat to hold onto his arm. He let it stay. You only removed it when Heat stared at it too long, not even aware that you had still been holding onto Kid. There was an immediately coolness where his warmth had been, and the urge to keep holding him close surfaced. Kid had been thinking the same thing. He liked feeling your weight on him, feeling you rely on him. He wanted you to rely on him more and trust him with yourself.  

#please forgive me for taking so long #Big Red has me down BAD #I would sell my toes to have morning coffee with Killer fr #what y'all think about Heat smut next chap? cool? #one piece #eustass kid #massacre soldier killer #marooned #x reader #kid x reader x killer #killer x reader #eustass kid x reader

[lemoncrushh]

Seven Six Five - Part One

Summary: They met once seven years ago. Now music has made them cross paths again.

Warnings: smut, body image issues, angst. 18+ ONLY!

A/N: Enemies to Lovers. This was originally written and posted in 2020, right before the pandemic, so the story takes place then with flashbacks of 2013. Harry Styles x Plus Size OC, written in third person.

Part One Word Count: 3.9k+

STORY PAGE

20 February, 2020 - New York, NY, USA

Dancing freely in her bathroom while a classic Dusty Springfield vinyl played on the turntable in the other room, Bronwyn grabbed her toothbrush, momentarily pretending it was a microphone. Just as she spread a healthy strip of paste on the brush and she popped it into her mouth, she heard the all too familiar ringtone chime from her phone, drowned out by Dusty’s confession of only wanting to be with you.

Bronwyn danced over to her bed to see who was calling, grateful she was able to work from home and make her own schedule. Seeing a familiar number, she knew the caller would leave a message, or perhaps a text, so she resumed her morning routine and spit out her toothpaste.

It wasn’t until she’d slipped into a pair of leggings and one of her favorite oversized tees, her hair pulled back in a ponytail, the needle safely removed from the vinyl, that she decided to check her phone for messages. As suspected, the caller had left a voicemail.

“Bronwyn, darling, it’s Antonella. Forgive me for being a little last minute on this, but I have a prospective job for you,” sang the familiar voice, her Italian accent flourishing both of their names. “Actually, I think you’ll be perfect for it, so don’t say no. It’s in D.C., and it’s for NPR Music. I’ll email you the details. Ciao.”

Her jaw dropped, Bronwyn nearly jumped for joy. NPR Music. That had to be the Tiny Desk concert series. One of her favourite things to do on free nights, or when her mind just wasn’t on her work, was to check out the newest video on NPR’s website. She’d discovered so many new artists just from that series, and a couple of them she’d managed to photograph and review at later concerts. She was thrilled with the prospect of being able to see one of the Tiny Desk shows in person and wondered who the artist might be.

Tapping on the email icon on her phone, she eagerly waited for the newest emails to load, the top one being from Antonella. Hastily opening it, she beamed as she read the mundane details of the job, the address, the date and time...until she saw the name.

ARTIST: HARRY STYLES

Instantly frowning, she dropped her shoulders and released a sigh.

“Bloody hell,” she muttered to herself. “Anyone but him.”

Staring at the screen, her vision blurred until she blinked and shook her head.

“No,” she said aloud. “No, I can’t do it.”

Quickly finding Antonella’s number, Bronwyn tapped the phone to ring her, biting her lip as the call went straight to voicemail.

“‘Ello, Antonella, it’s Bronwyn. Listen, I got your message and your email. Unfortunately...I don’t think I’ll be able to take this job. It’s just...not for me. Conflict of interest or what have you. Hopefully you’ll be able to find someone else in a pinch. Sorry, love.”

Disconnecting the call, Bronwyn fell back on her bed, her head hitting the pile of pillows. Shutting her eyes tight, she willed her mind to push away the memory of him. Though it had been nearly seven years since that night, it sometimes felt like yesterday. She had tried her best to forget it had ever happened, that they had ever crossed paths. She supposed if it had been anyone else, she could have gotten over it like she had any other time she’d been disappointed or heart-broken, humiliated or angry. But because he was...him...he managed to pop up now and then, when she’d least expected it, and most unfortunately when she hadn’t wanted him to.

She had a great life now. London was not only across the ocean, but years behind her. She’d struggled a bit when she’d first moved to New York, but after getting her foot in the door and finally making a name for herself, she’d settled into a routine and lifestyle that she’d always dreamt of. Harry bloody Styles was most certainly not a part of it.

Rising from the bed, Bronwyn made her way to her tiny kitchen to pour herself a cup of tea. She’d just sat down at the small table in the corner, her cup in one hand, a steaming danish in the other when her phone chimed its agitating tune once again. Frowning when she saw Antonella’s name displayed on the screen, she let the danish fall onto her plate and wiped her hands on the napkin.

“This is Bronwyn,” she sang into the speaker, hoping she didn’t sound too fake.

“Darling, what do you mean you can’t take this job?” the Italian woman’s voice boomed. “I arranged this for you ‘specially! Everybody else is booked or out of town that day. I have no one else.”

“I’m sorry, Antonella, I just-”

“Conflict of interest, ppfff!” she interrupted. “I won’t hear of it. It’s a job, my love, not a blind date. You just take photographs and submit your review the way you’ve always done.”

Bronwyn sighed, feeling defeated. She knew Antonella was right...to a degree. And she wasn’t about to spill her guts about her history - or lack thereof - with a certain ex-boybander to her agent.

“I’m not going to beg, Bronwyn,” remarked Antonella. “It’s your career. But I try to get you jobs I think suit you and your personality. Jobs that you’d be proud to stamp your name on. I think you’d be perfect for this, but… I guess I can call Dennis.”

“Dennis listens to 90s college rock and complains about millennials and Starbucks.”

“He’s all I’ve got left.”

“Fine,” Bronwyn surrendered. “I’ll do it.”

“You’re an angel, doll, you know that?” cheered Antonella.

“Yeah, yeah. Just let me know when I’ve earned my wings.”

25 February, 2020 - Washington, D.C., USA

“Thank you,” Bronwyn smiled at the young woman with the bright pink lipstick - Katia, she thought her name was - when she handed her a small bottle of water.

“No problem! Let me know if I can get you anything else.” Katia bounced on her heels and returned her attention elsewhere before Bronwyn had the chance to make another request.

As the room began to fill with more people, she felt herself get a bit stuffy, so she removed her grey cardigan, shoving it into one of her bags before checking her camera one last time.

“Oh cool, I get to stand by the photographer!” she heard someone exclaim, and she looked up to see a thin, toothy girl with ombre hair.

Bronwyn copied her grin, flipping her curls off her shoulders just as Katia returned with an announcement, explaining what was about to happen. The girl next to her squeezed her friend’s hand and squealed when Katia mentioned Harry’s name. Trying her best not to gag or roll her eyes, Bronwyn stood straight, clearing her throat and lifting her camera to prepare for the singer’s arrival.

It’s just a job, she told herself, remembering Antonella’s words. I can do this.

Three seconds later, Katia was gone and a huge raucous sounded down the hall. Almost immediately, a tall, thin man with his hair pulled back came into view, followed by an equally slender woman in a red t-shirt. Bronwyn watched as they headed for the L shaped desk, the man picking up a guitar that sat behind it, the woman taking a seat behind the drums that were set up in the corner. Soon, two more women followed - one grabbing an acoustic guitar, the other taking her place in front of the keyboard - and another tall man who slung a bass guitar over his shoulder. Taking several quick shots of the band members, Bronwyn almost missed his entrance until he was literally stood in front of her. Through the lense of her camera, she saw him wave at the small crowd before walking around the desk to a stool that awaited him. It was only then that she noticed his ridiculous blue jumper, a hatched chicken adorning the front of it with the french words Mon Petit.

Bronwyn felt herself snort before she could stop it. “Oh my God, you’ve got to be joking!”

But when she turned her head in search of someone in agreement, she was only met with ombre girl whose grin was toothier than ever.

“He looks amazing!” she cried, her hand clenched to her chest.

“Right, then,” Bronwyn nodded, resuming her task at hand.

Taking a few more photos, she watched as Harry and the band got situated, and he began an introduction to the first song, a tune called “Cherry” which Bronwyn found to be a surprising choice.

She’d spent most of the weekend listening to Harry’s new album, Fine Line. While she’d struggled to even get started, putting it off until well after midnight on Saturday morning during the middle of a bottle of wine, she’d decided she needed to familiarise herself with at least some of his music if she was going to write any sort of review. Having given the album one listen through, she admitted to herself that it was pretty good. By four in the morning and a few more listens, she’d admitted it was pretty fucking brilliant.

But she still hated him.

Personal feelings aside, Bronwyn had packed up her camera and drove to D.C. that morning. Even she knew that when it came to the entertainment industry, you couldn’t take things personally. She had to try her best to separate her disdain for Harry Styles from the music he made.

Throughout Harry’s short set, Bronwyn continued to snap photos, glad to focus on the other band members whenever she felt a little flutter in her chest or pang in her heart. She especially felt one when Harry would speak between the songs, because hearing him talk only reminded her of that night seven years ago. She detected a slightly deeper timbre to his voice, but it was his voice just the same. And it made her cringe. Not because she didn’t like it...but because she did.

Please stop fucking talking, she thought. Why d’you gotta be so bloody charming? Just shut up already.

By the last song, Harry made a joke which sent the room into a roar of laughter. Bronwyn groaned, hoping this whole entire soiree would be over soon and she could go home. Just when she was about to lift her camera once again, however, the horrible inevitable happened. Before she could even blink, their eyes locked. Frozen in her spot, she willed herself to look down at her camera and bring it back up to do her job. She rolled her eyes at herself this time after she cleared her throat, as if that was going to do anything for the color that she felt rising up her neck and to her cheeks. And as though that wasn’t horrifying enough, when she went to snap the photo, she caught the dimpled grin on his face. He was fucking smiling at her.

What an arsehole!

As her stomach twisted into the tightest of knots, and she felt the sudden instinct to take a seat before she collapsed in front of a room full of strangers, she heard another squeal next to her.

“Omigod, did you see that? Was he smiling at us?” exclaimed ombre girl to her friend.

Yes, thought Bronwyn. Yes, please be smiling at them!

“Ughhhh he’s soooo hotttt!” screeched ombre’s friend as she leant into her mate’s shoulder, as though she was the one about to faint.

Yes, it was for fans, Bronwyn told herself. He didn’t recognise me. It was for them.

Much to her relief, the song finished and Harry’s set was over. He rose from his little stool and waved to everyone with a big thank you. Bronwyn watched as the band filed out of the room, and within minutes, Katia made her reappearance.

“Thank you so much for being here,” she cheered, clapping her hands together. “I hope you had a good time. Now if you’ll kindly start exiting slowly to the left. Be sure you’ve taken all of your belongings.”

Bronwyn listened to the chatter from the audience as they began to leave. Preparing her camera bag, she felt a tap on her shoulder.

“Are your photos gonna be online?” asked ombre girl.

Bronwyn couldn’t help but smile. “Yes. Should be sometime tomorrow morning.”

“Awesome! I follow all social media having to do with Harry, so I’m sure I’ll see them!”

“Alright then,” said Bronwyn, slipping her arms back into her grey cardigan. “Take care.”

It felt like an eternity when Bronwyn finally had her things together and packed up properly. Turning for the exit, she nearly bumped into Katia whose pink lips were stretched into a wide smile.

“Thank you so much for everything!” she said. “My boss told me it was a last minute thing to get you here, and we appreciate it!”

“Oh, no worries,” Bronwyn gave a tight smile. “Please let me know if you ever need me for another show. This was...fun.”

“It was, wasn’t it?” Katia agreed gleefully, missing Bronwyn’s hesitation. “Harry’s such a doll. We’ve wanted him here for ages!”

Bronwyn nodded, side-swiping the comment about Harry. “I just really love this concept. I’ve watched every video on your website.”

Katia tilted her head to the side. “Aw, well that’s good to hear. We’re so glad there’s an audience for us.”

Bronwyn continued to give her best fake smile as she slung her bag onto her shoulder.

“Well, I should be going. Thanks again.”

“Oh yes, thank you! Be sure to give your badge to Laura on your way out.”

With another nod, Bronwyn finally made her way to the lift, already taking mental notes of what she planned to say in the article. If not for being focused on that, she might have seen him when the lift doors opened. Instead, she walked straight toward the desk where she’d remembered picking up her badge. The brunette that she recognised from that morning gave her a smile and a thank you as she accepted the lanyard before quickly shifting her eyes to the left. Following the young woman’s gaze, Bronwyn nearly gasped when she saw Harry and another man walking in her direction. Hesitating for only a moment, she swiftly turned for the doors, hoping he didn’t see her.

“Oh, Miss!” cried Laura. “You forgot to sign out!”

“Shit!” Bronwyn cursed under her breath.

Quickly, she took a few steps back and grabbed a pen from the little plastic holder on the desk. She’d just finished signing her name on the line and dropped the pen in the cubby when she heard her name again.

“Bronwyn.”

Lifting her head, she was met with the hideous blue jumper and a lopsided grin.

“Harry.”

“I thought it was you,” he said, grinning wider. “It’s been a long time.”

“Yeah…” Bronwyn sighed, combing her fingers through her hair. Not long enough, she thought to herself. “Yeah, it has.”

“How’ve you been?”

“Oh you know...I’ve been alright.”

“Still a music photographer, I see,” Harry commented, gesturing at her bag. “Do you work for NPR?”

“No, I’m freelance.” Bronwyn noticed her answers were short and sweet. She only hoped Harry noticed as well.

“Wonderful!” Harry praised. “So you live in the states now?”

Bronwyn nodded. “New York, actually.”

“Wow, good for you, Bronwyn.”

Looking away towards the front doors, she half rolled her eyes, tugging the strap of her bag on her shoulder.

“I’m surprised you remembered my name,” Bronwyn remarked.

She couldn’t help but catch the tiny smirk and the bashful look on his face.

“Yeah, well...I don’t usually make it a point to remember the names of women who turn me down, but...”

Bronwyn scoffed incredulously. “Turn you down?”

Was he making a joke? If so, Bronwyn found it to be in poor taste. So much so, that she tasted the bitterness on her tongue. Oblivious however, Harry shrugged, his smirk spreading, which only fueled the resentment that Bronwyn was holding in. She thought it was very smug.

“I reckon you made an impression on me,” remarked Harry. Then he leant forward, his hand on his chest. “Even though you broke my heart.”

Bronwyn narrowed her eyes, shocked at his nerve. “You’re unbelievable.”

Staring at him, Bronwyn could tell he hadn’t realised she was serious at first, and that she was not describing him in a positive light. Ever so slightly, Harry’s grin began to falter, as though Bronwyn herself had stuck a pin in his dimple, and all the air oozed out, causing him to frown. Just as his mouth opened to speak, however, the man she’d seen him walking with earlier interrupted their conversation with a hand on his arm.

“H, we need you over here a minute,” he said, barely acknowledging Bronwyn.

“Sorry,” Harry apologised, looking her in the eye. “I’ll be right back.”

Bronwyn watched as Harry and the other bloke turned their backs, their voices hushed. Dropping her shoulders in a sigh, she took it as a free out and headed for the doors once again. A stealthy exit, however, was not to be. As soon as her hand reached the push bar, she heard him calling for her.

“Where are you going?” he asked, catching up with her.

“Have to get home,” she replied curtly with a raised brow. “Write this review.”

“You’re not staying in D.C.?”

“‘Fraid not.”

“Oh.”

For a moment, Bronwyn could detect the disappointment in his tone and on his face. She almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

“I was hoping we could go for… drinks or coffee… y’know, catch up.”

Gripping the strap of her bag so tightly, she was certain it was cutting off the circulation in her fingers, she shook her head, determined not to let her guard down.

“Sorry to burst your bubble, Harry.”

A sound came from behind him, and they both looked to see a small group of people gesturing for him, his band included.

“We’re ready for you, H,” one of them called.

Harry slowly turned his head back to Bronwyn, a defeated expression on his face. Bronwyn pursed her lips, nodding toward the group.

“Looks like you have plenty to do anyway,” she said.

Without another word, she pushed the door open with her elbow, backing out of the building. Before turning down the sidewalk, she let the door close, leaving Harry Styles staring at her in bewilderment.

20 August, 2013 - London, England, UK

Bronwyn was grateful to finally be rid of her camera for the evening. Having found a place to lock it away, she headed for the large room where the after party was being held. She’d barely crossed the threshold before a waiter greeted her with a tray of champagne glasses. Graciously accepting one, she took a large sip. As soon as the liquor coated her throat, she threw her head back with a sigh.

This wasn’t the first job she’d taken for a red carpet event. But it was definitely the loudest. A veteran of not only the boy band phenomena, but that of rock and pop bands in general, she was certainly not new to the extremities of fandom. But Jesus Christ… as much as she loathed the comparison, she couldn’t help but imagine this was similar to what Beatlemania had been.

Admittedly, she didn’t know that much about One Direction. She’d heard a few songs, and she considered them decent, catchy at best. She’d learnt a bit more about them tonight from watching their film, and she could safely say they were quite alright. They were young, silly boys with loads of fans...half of whom must have been at the premiere if the ringing in her ears was any indication.

Bronwyn perused the room for a bit, recognising several faces from the red carpet earlier. Feeling her stomach rumble, she made her way around the perimeter toward the large buffet. She hadn’t quite reached it, however, when another waiter came by with more champagne. With a smile, Bronwyn handed him her now empty glass and accepted a new one. She’d just brought it to her lips when her gaze was met with another set of eyes and a smirk.

“Ah, so she does have a face. Thought maybe it was just a camera for a head.”

“Sorry?” she asked, slowly lowering her glass.

“You’re a photographer, right?”

Bronwyn smiled slyly. “Yes. Among other things.”

The smirk on his face slowly turned into a wide grin.

“I saw you out front,” he said, stepping closer. “At the red carpet.”

Bronwyn raised her brows in question. “How could you? There were loads of us.”

“Your outfit,” he said, pointing at her dress and boots. “I reckon you were the only one wearing anything close to that.”

Bronwyn looked down at the clothes she’d picked out for the night. She wore a vintage inspired floral dress that stopped mid-thigh and brown, knee-length, platform boots.

“Hmm, I suppose I am original,” she commented.

“I like original,” he said, lifting his own glass to his lips, one that certainly contained something other than champagne.

Bronwyn gave her own smirk then, feeling a blush on her cheeks just as a familiar song began to play, one of her favourites from the 70s.

“Finally, some good tunes!” she exclaimed at the ceiling before glancing back at the tall boy. “No offense.”

“None taken,” he said with a low chuckle.

Bronwyn could feel his eyes on her as she began to sing along and sway to the music.

“You like old stuff?” she heard him ask.

Twirling around to face him, she beamed. “I like anything that’s good.”

“Me too. What’s your name?”

“Bronwyn.”

“That’s pretty. ‘s that Welsh?”

Bronwyn stopped dancing, a tiny bit surprised he knew that. “Yeah. It is.”

“Do you speak Welsh?”

Bronwyn shook her head with a pout. “‘Fraid Not. Lived in London all my life. My dad’s mum is Welsh though, and she chose my name.”

“I see.”

“I came so close to being called Rhiannon,” Bronwyn continued, her hips threatening to sway as she held onto her champagne glass with both hands. “Can you imagine? I could’ve been a Stevie Nicks song!”

Throwing his head back, the tall boy let out a loud chuckle. The sound did something to Bronwyn, though she couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was. She just knew she liked it.

“That would have been great, I’ll admit,” he expressed. “I love Stevie.”

“You do?”

At his nod, Bronwyn stared at him for a moment, a smile slowly spreading across her face as she took him in. She remembered taking his photo several times, as well as the other band members, and she definitely had to admit he looked very dashing.

“Which one are you again?” she inquired, her long curls falling over her shoulder as she tilted her head. “I mean, I did watch the movie, I just get mixed up sometimes.”

“I’m Harry.”

“Oh yes, Harry Styles,” Bronwyn confirmed, pointing her finger before placing the tip on her lips. “The youngest lad of the group. The one who worked in a bakery.”

Harry giggled again, making Bronwyn aware of the flutter in her chest.

“That would be me,” he said.

Bronwyn stepped even closer, erasing the majority of space between them. “The cute one.”

Harry raised his brows as Bronwyn smiled up at him.

“And the one with good music taste,” she added.

Harry’s dimples dipped deeper in his cheeks as he grinned wider. Pleased with the encounter so far, Bronwyn extended her hand for a shake.

“Nice to meet you, Harry.”

Hope you enjoyed so far! Please like, comment, reblog or send me a msg!

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#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fic #harry styles x oc #harry styles series #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry fanfiction #harry fan fiction #harry fanfic #harry fan fic #harry fic #harry x oc #harry series #harry smut #harry angst #harry fluff #harry one shot #harry blurb #harry imagine #harry x reader #real harry fic

[preposterousjams]

Girlhood and Cassandra Cain: a messy analysis

I love how through Batgirl (2000) we just see Cass learn to be a semi-functioning "normal" girl and how she slowly goes from a life centred around justice and violence to a girl with so much wonder in her heart

Like girl starts out only knowing that she can be one thing: A good fighter. So obviously, to her, her own life outside of that means nothing if its non existent.

And at the same time, she doesn't really know what being a "regular person" means. She's had 2 identities: Weapon and Batgirl. In between both she was just surviving and it probably sucked rlly bad. She used to not picture a life outside of Cain, and now she cant picture a life outside of Batgirl. She literally has met like a total of 30 ppl in her life and talked to like 4.

But even with her very limited idea of normal social interactions she is unafraid of trying to show ppl love. She sees through their body language that the opposite of pain is love. But that kind of love requires an interaction outside of fighting.

She can't understand english much at the beginning but her initial drive to learn is not to be a better detective or batgirl related, its her love for people. For them to be happy. Its like a way of being useful.

But when others treat her in the same way, when others show her affection, she wants so bad to experience those connections over and over again. Mutual loving relationships are a new experience to her and she can't get enough of it.

She needs help on a case so what does she do? She breaks into Stephanie's room after meeting her like a single time because who knocks anyways?

wdym its not normal to knock ppl out when they're annoying? Like its convenient so y not?

She quickly makes her first friends but doesn't really know how to act or communicate but still manages to joke around in her own way. But they're happy, and she's happy, so it works.

She even watches crime shows and reality tv like guides on how to interact with people on missions and irl.

But gradually, all these small interactions let her become a person, for her to share small things about herself with others. Relationships let her be someone. Sharing thoughts, having conversations, working together, and anything that involves the small human pleasure of company become things she looks forward to.

And little by little, she starts doing things for herself. Like bro runs around Gotham, night into morning, holding onto a rose because its something thats hers and its pretty but she doesn't even know how plants work, but she's got the spirit. (yes ik that the rose is a randomly placed metaphor for cass having a bad work life balance but its so cute)

She starts going outside as a normal person instead of only for missions. She does normal girl things like going to restaurants but kind of not really cause wtf is a balanced diet.

Being able to share something about herself with someone and to sit in a mutual understanding of each other becomes easy. She lets herself be open to change and finds herself looking forward to living.

Wanting something for herself and being her own person is such a foreign concept to how she was raised but she loves it.

She experiments with everything to see what feels right. She starts flirting with boys, going to parties, dressing up in different styles of fashion. She wants to experience everything that girls do

She also learns that being a girl is different from what the other bats experience

Which sucks especially when she can read people's body language. As batgirl, in her scary ass outfit she was only terrifying and strong. But as a normal girl, people sometimes objectify her which has to be the oddest experience when u could kill someone with the blink of an eye.

Even her new father and brother see her differently than she sees them. Theres a weird social thing that comes with "girlness" that she doesn't understand, where girl things are supposed to be weak and have to be protected. But logically, shes like, yall gotta be protected from me be so forreal.

She dont gaf. Shes got bigger things to be ashamed about and being a girl is not one of them.

As she experiences the downsides of girlhood, she learns of the social expectations that come along. And instead of playing along blindly, she uses them to mess with ppl (and bruce). Cass understands more than anyone that social expectations and behaviours are just created performances that bring ppl together. So she chooses the ones she likes and completely rejects what she doesn't like.

and in the end she picks girly things like bold lipstick, fancy dresses, fashion, because she loves pretty things not because its whats expected. Social norms are like toys she can play with and put aside when they aren't fun.

Like she'll still get into a bar fight after eating the entire menu cause she can. Anyways ted talk over

#shes literally just a girl #wifey material #that motorcycle fit EATS SO BAD LIKE WITH THE WOLF CUT OMG #Fashion icon like i might make a compilation of her best fits #dc comics #cassandra cain #batgirl #batman #batfam

[batbitesthebat]

Hey bat!!!! :D it's been a whileeee.. So- here's my question!

Do you have any head canons for your octonauts- characters? (Regular au) if so. Can I know em? :0

Sorry this took me so long!! I'm a very busy Bat!!

I decided to share some headcanons for all of my octonauts for my normal BatBites AU.

Captain Barnacles:

He goes to sleep curfew on the DOT and wakes up at 7:00 am each morning, and will wake up the other Octonauts as well

He feels like the father of the crew, whether he likes to or not

He doesn't open up to anybody about his struggles or insecurities- ever! He's bad at that sort of thing...

During the summer he'll take extremely long cold baths that he'll literally dump ice in, and he sheds like crazy, he does NOT like the summer.

His suit has a cooler. Tweak built it for him!!

He is totally unaware of any feelings his CREwMAtes might have for him....

Lt Kwazii Cat:

He bat's other peoples tails instinctively...

He can bareeely taste sweet, so he'll usually add a shit ton of sugar to his desserts

Struggles with impulse control and social awareness, struggles to understand what can be talked about on the dinner table and what can't be

Quite ashamed honestly about his cat-like behavior, so he'll try to keep it to himself. He doesn't like to meow or purr around anyone but Shellington, but because he lacks impulse control, he'll end up doing it anyway. Dashi loves the meowing.

He's incredibly affectionate

His first thought when a sea creature gives them trouble is I'LL SHOW THEM WHO'S BOSS!!!

Medic Peso Penguin:

His urge to pick up rocks everytime he sees a pile of them goes strong, and he usually ends up doing just that

This is more of a redesign than a headcanon, but he has a full set of teeth in the og books and I thought that would be a good excuse to give him fangs in my AU just for added cuteness

He's a chronic apologizer

He gets picked on by the crew occasionally, he hates it

He looks up to Barnacles and Kwazii so much- he IS the youngest and the last one to join, after all.

He does really like taking care of his friends.

He's a bit of a crybaby. His sense of empathy is really big and strong, and he'll feel himself tear up if he sees something- or someone- suffering.

IT Officer Dashi Dog:

Because she's the IT officer, programmer & photographer, she's super busy all the time

And speaking of time, she always loses track of it..

If Kwazii and Barnacles were to be unavailable she would be in charge.

She likes to keep incredibly clean even if the DEMONS tell her to jump in the MUDD and have FUNN

She loves everything cute and collects chibi cat squishies. This is like, one of my first head canons ever.

She's in charge of the wifi, whenever it shuts down and the crew begins to bug her about it, she gets super fckin annoyed

She barks, because of course she barks, and her tail wags whenever she sees something she likes or is giving/receiving affection

Her tail ALSO wags when she's talking to Captain Barnacles, I wonder why THAT is!!!

Engineer Tweak Rabbit:

Gets 1 second of sleep every night

Taught the rest of the crew how to play her video games

She glows in the dark because she's literally radioactive, same with her dad

When she needs a break she goes to the garden to chill, and eat a few carrots on the way

Will wake up in a cold sweat to randomly build something in the middle of the night

She does not give a shit about how messy she gets

Dr. Shellington Sea Otter:

Spends so much of his alone time just grooming himself

Goes searching through the fridge for ice cubes during the summer. Loves his ice cubes

Was the most geekiest geek in high school, he had like 3 friends

He plays visual novels

He's really defensive, embarrassed, and shy about what he likes.

His sleep schedule is fcked up, he talks in his sleep as well. He'd much rather be spending his time researching so as he sleeps he'll usually dream about his research.

He cannOT take a compliment. Compliment him and he will curl up into a little ball out of shame.

Professor Inkling Octopus:

He'll put on classical music in the library and vibe to it with whoever's with him

He hosts story nights occasionally

He's really good at giving romantic advice

He refuses to drink coffee

He needs to be constantly MOIST

his chair is super high tech and comes with a heater and cooler

May or may not be the group therapist

He's INKredibly humble

Tunip Vegimal:

Like 4 years old

Gets excited over literally anything

Gets the cutest puppy dog eyes when he wants something

Defaults to running around with the other vegimals when there's nothing to do

His fave thing in the world is watching the crews face light up when they eat his food

Vegimal food just hits different

Tunip sees Shellington as his dad, and sees Tweak as his mama. Kwazii's the gay aunt

*flies away*

#octonauts #headcanons #headcanon #octonauts headcanon #captain barnacles #kwazii #dashi octonauts #tweak octonauts #shellington #professor inkling #vegimals #tunip vegimal

[ejzah]

Suggested by @mashmaiden to continue the Houseguest Drabble Series. It’s quite long.

***

Deeks: This is getting ridiculous.

Kensi, in a soothing tone: I know, baby, but it won’t be that much longer.

Deeks, not soothed at all: Really? Cause it already feels like it’s been forever. Look, you know I love Anna and Callen, and at any other time, I’d probably love to have them here, but I we have no room, it’s been two days, and the twins are starting to babble in Russian.

Kensi, putting a hand on his arm: Sweetie, calm down. I don’t think babies can learn another language in 48 hours.

Deeks: Callen is very determined. *he takes a deep breath and rub s his hands over his face* I’m sorry. I’m just tired and need some caffeine. Donut and Croissant were feeling extra social last night.

Kensi, grimacing: I know. I heard you get up a lot. Let’s go see if there’s any coffee left.

They find Callen, Anna, and Rosa in the kitchen.

Anna: Good morning. Thank you again for letting us stay another night.

Kensi: You’re welcome. I hope the twins didn’t wake you up too much.

Anna: I brought ear plugs.

Callen, pouring them each a coffee: And you know I don’t sleep much.

Deeks, nodding: So…any updates.

Callen: Arkady’s not answering my texts.

Deeks, in exasperation: Alright, that’s it.

Kensi: What are you doing?

Deeks, halfway out of the kitchen: Taking care of this once and for all. *then on reconsideration, he grabs a bottle of alcohol on the way out*

***

Deeks: Arkady! Open the door.

The door pops open a crack and a sliver of Arkady’s face appears.

Arkady: Deeks, what are you doing here?

Deeks, shouldering his way in: Here, I brought you a housewarming gift.

Arkady, quirking an eyebrow at the wine: This is not my house.

Deeks: Exactly. Where are Yuliana and my mom?

Arkady: They are in back. I believe they mentioned something about lunch. Though I have not been considered in a plans.

Deeks, heading for the back door: Wonderful.

He finds Roberta and Yuliana happily chatting and relaxing on lawn chairs.

Yuliana, instantly wary when she sees him: Berta, who is this?

Roberta, sitting forward: It’s my my son, Martin. Marty, what’s going on? Is something wrong?

Deeks, holding up a hand: No, mama. Nothing’s wrong. Well, assuming you consider seven people sharing one bathroom not wrong. Did you notice the homeowners of this home are missing in action?

Roberta, shrugging: Hey, I didn’t make them leave.

Deeks: No, you just made them extremely uncomfortable with your fighting and death threats via sewing needle.

Arkady, from behind Deeks: Yes, they fight like—like shrews. Or yapping dogs, nipping at the defenseless.

Yuliana, stands up and instantly begins berating him in Russian.

Arkady, to Deeks after retorting in Russian: See, this is reason we did not marry.

Roberta, hand on her hip: Excuse me, what did you call me?

Deeks, whistling sharply: Alright, that is enough! In two sentences or less, explain your top grievance with this man. *he gestures to Arkady and then Yuliana* You go first.

Yuliana, haughtily: Arkady told me he had been tasked with a very important job for US government two weeks before our wedding. I never saw him again. And he took my engagement ring with him.

Deeks: Not a good look, man.

Yuliana, warming up now: He also lies! All the times with the lies and the stories. He told me—

Deeks, interrupting: On any other day, I would love to pull up a chair and listen, but right now I’m on a tight schedule. So, if you wouldn’t mind. Mom?

Robert: Well, I suppose it’s not that bad, but last week he never showed up for our weekly dinner at my house. *she glares at Arkady and he cowers a little* I’m also not a big fan of some of the things I heard about you from your ex. I’ve dated jerks before, Ari.

Deeks, nodding: Ok, so now we have the grievances. What type of reparations do you think are necessary for you both to get over this Russian scoundrel and vacate the premises?

Yuliana glances at Roberta and they shrug a couple of times before nodding.

Yuliana: A sincere apology would suffice. Otherwise, I will never leave.

Arkady: Apologize? For what? I have done nothing! Ok, perhaps I tell a few lies. But these are nothing.

Deeks, leaning close to him: Arkady, you either apologize to these ladies with the best of your con-man abilities or I will have you arrested for trespassing on private property.

Arkady: You are not agent anymore.

Deeks: You forget I’m friends with your son-in-law, Sam Hanna, and several other law enforcement agents who would happily put you behind bars.

Arkady: You would not dare. *Deeks raises an eyebrow and Arkady puts on a contrite expression* Yuliana, my former love, I am deeply sorry for abandoning you on our wedding day. I don’t deserve your love. Roberta, my dear, my feisty woman—

Deeks: Speed it up.

Arkady: Roberta, I promise to never treat you so poorly again. Will you forgive me?

Roberta: What do you think, Yuliana? Should we forgive this pathetic man?

Yuliana: It was satisfying to see him grovel. Why not? Roberta, do you have plans?

Deeks, as they wander off, making plans to go shopping: Oh, thank god. Maybe I can finally get some sleep.

Arkady: But first you just drive me home since I ride here with your mother.

Deeks, talking to himself: A jury would accept a plea of insanity.

#ncis la #densi #marty deeks #kensi blye #Callen #Anna #Arkady #Roberta #ridiculousness #dialogue drabble

[priestessoffurina]

Ok so this is like a really weird random ask but I just wanted to say thank you. Why? For your priestess photos posts.

I started playing Genshin around a month or two by now (I'm now starting the Fontaine AQ in fact!) and I've just found so much joy in going to the most random of places and taking a photo of it. You (as well as a fic I can't remember off the top of my head) really inspired me to do some in-game photography!

As soon as I got a Kamera (I didn't know about the built-in picture feature til recently) I just... went back and took so many photos of places I've been to. I never knew I could possibly enjoy photography as much as I do now if it weren't for your stuff.

I have a dedicated phone that's solely for playing Genshin and it's gallery is literally only filled with in-game screenshots of my travels lol.

Here's a few examples I took a long while ago.

Again this might be a bit odd but I thought you should know. Thanks again for accidentally giving me a hobby I enjoy! Have a good rest of your day, Cheers!

Oh My God!!! This is so sweetttt 😭😭😭

It's not weird at all. I'm happy that something I do mainly for myself inspired you in any way!

Originally, I started taking photos in game for art purposes; things that I thought would be cool to paint. But it grew to me appreciating the environments that Hoyoverse had crafted more. So I'm glad I was able to spread this feeling~

And wow your photos are all so lovely. I wasn't as good as you when I started; it's taken me 4 years to get here lol. Also applauded you for doing it on mobile too (honestly people playing genshin on mobile are amazing, I don't know how you all do it).

Thank you so much for letting me know!!!! This is one of the sweetest asks I've gotten and it makes me so happy that people not only like what I post, but in turn post 'cause of it.

May your pulls be blessed and you win your next 50/50~

#what a wonderful thing to see first thing in the morning!!! #just goes to show that even if you think you are alone there is always someone who appreciates the things you do #no matter how little they are #huhuhu #i'm gonna thinking about this for the next week #teyvasks #mommamothwitch-mudsy