#+it's nice to chill in the back for a bit

[shouyuus]

counting stars

violet; 4,988 words; hurt/comfort, fluff, slightly suggestive moments, no "y/n", wlw (duh), self-indulgent to the point of lunacy, lots of kissing, mentions of bodily harm (not self-inflicted), teeth-rotting fluff mostly, popstar!reader x vi au

summary: when vi shows up at your door, what to do but to let her in?

a/n: bc nothing bad is allowed to happen to vi in my fictional world(s). and also im literally cackling ofc the fic that ppl r the least interested in posted first is the one that i post first; i guess i just like to be contrary but also i want to spoil vi and this is the only way i know how

─── Ⅵ SHE SHOWS UP UNANNOUNCED, split lip and bloody knuckles, leaning against your doorframe on a thursday night; you answer the door in your sheer pink nightgown and fluffy slippers, a bottle of rose chilling in a bucket on the table.

“vi?”

“hey princess —” she clears her throat, her smirk going lopsided as she tries to hide a clear wince. a bead of blood seeps out the corner of her mouth as she sucks in a shaky breath, “miss me?”

your lashes flutter with worry as you step aside to let her through — there’s a distinct limp to her gait that she can’t quite hide with her usual swagger.

“what happened?” you ask, letting the door click shut, following half a step behind her as she drags herself into your penthouse flat, letting out a low whistle as she looks around.

“nice place you got here. fits though, pretty castle for a pretty princess —”

“violet…”

you reach out with delicate fingers, taking slow steps forward; she hisses out a breath, her eyes sharp and wild as a wounded lion’s, her mouth a blunt-edged slash as she swallows, gaze flickering between your fingertips and your face as if she’s unsure what you might do.

she winces as you rub a light thumb along her cheek; your finger pulls away red.

“sorry —” the word rips from her at your touch. her eyes drop, her whole body shakes. “i — i didn’t know where else to go — and i — i remembered seeing that stupid 100 questions video you did here for —”

“for the fashion magazine, yeah,” you say, your voice soft as a baby’s breath. your hand lingers, a palm against her cheek. she leans into your touch, the movement small as heartbreak, but just as heavy.

“c’mon, lets get you cleaned up.”

you let your hand trail down her arm till your fingers link, and you lead her to you expansive couch, pressing her down firmly even as she frowns at her grime-covered clothes against your pristine white sofa.

“i’d offer to pay for dry cleaning but —”

you cut her off with a sharp look.

“don’t you dare. and plus, i’ve been meaning to change up the upholstery forever.”

you grab a bottle of vodka from the top shelf and a box of cotton balls, plopping down across from her on the couch in a flurry of pink-colored satin, inching forward till you’re nearly parked in her lap.

vi’s eyebrows hike as you pop the top off the vodka bottle, a grin twitching at her lips.

you roll your eyes.

“it’s not for drinking —” you soak a few cotton balls in the vodka even as vi’s expression falls. you lean in; vi’s hands find their way to bend of your waist, settling there as you daub gingerly at the blotches of drying blood on her face.

“ouch —” vi winces dramatically as you press down on a particularly deep cut, her lips pushing up into a pout, “not even a little bit? might help dull out the pain —”

she cuts off as you swipe a thumb along her bottom lip, breath hitching as you frown slightly, making to tug away for a fresh cotton ball.

“don’t — don’t leave —” her voice comes out harsh, desperate. you still, expression softening impossibly.

“i’m not,” you say, patient. she finds her fingers digging into your hips but you only smile. “i’m not going anywhere. promise. but i do need another cotton ball.”

she worries at her bottom lip, and already, you can see the fresh blood collecting in at the corner of her mouth. you press back into her space, wiping the blood away. her entire body slants towards you, her shoulders tight, her arms flexed, as if she’s bracing for a punch or a kiss.

you nudge her nose with yours, lifting up ever so slightly to press your lips to her forehead.

the dam breaks — all the pieces falling, her head tipping forward onto your shoulder, her hands wrapping around you tight, and then tighter. you feel yourself being hauled into her lap as she buries her face in the crook of your neck, a sound caught halfway between a gasp and a sob wrenching from her throat.

“f-fuck — shit —”

there’s heat to her skin, the roughness of her bandages, fraying at the edges, the worn-in material of her pants, the damp streaks of her hair tickling your cheek. her breath is uneven as it splays out against your collarbones, and when she finally tugs away to wipe at her face with the back of her hand, looking anywhere but at you, her lashes blink away wet.

“sorry — god this must be real sexy, right? mm — fuck —” she sniffles, shaking out her hand, her other one coming up to caress your cheek. her gaze is unfocused even as she skims her fingers over your skin. “god, you’re so soft. it’s like you’re made of — of marshmallows or something —”

you catch her hand with a tiny sigh, letting your gaze flicker over the bloodied bandages before you rub a thumb along an unmarred patch of skin.

“and you can be too. if you ever wanted to learn.”

she goes quiet then, the bravado bleeding from her as you continue your quiet work of cleaning all her varied injuries, disinfecting the cuts and bandaging the bruises. for the most part, she stays quiet, offering up the bloodied parts of herself for your perusal without resistance. it’s only when you shift back or make to tug away for a second that she jerks forward, resolute in her all-consuming need to keep you close.

“there. that’s about as much as i can do right now,” you say, heaving a sigh as you brush away several strands of black-pink hair from her face, letting your thumb skim over the tattoo on her cheek.

“thanks.” her voice comes out slightly hoarse, her eyes cutting away from you for a second before flickering back.

“i’d say it’s nothing but…” you let your thumb trail down the line of her jaw, tracing over her fluttering pulse as you work your slow way down her neck, “i mean —” you let out a soft laugh, hiccupping slightly as she takes the chance to tug you even closer, pressing you to her, chest to chest, so that you have to brace both your palms against her shoulders just to keep steady. neither of you mentions the fact that her arms are shaking.

“it was a bad night,” she says. and it’s all she offers for a few minutes, but you don’t push her, content to rest against her, let her run circles into your skin with her fingers against the small of your back, her breaths evening out till she looks back up at you with a wry grin.

“let me guess,” you say, linking your fingers behind her neck, “you should see the other guy though, right?” you drop your voice in a mocking imitation; it sounds nothing like her but it manages to draw out a laugh, the sound ricocheting between the pair of you like an echo till it dissipates, leaving the air somehow slightly warmer than before.

“yeah. somethin’ like that,” she murmurs, leaning forward to nudge your nose with hers, eyes going dark.

you cup her cheeks and let her kiss you, lips on lips and gasping breaths, till her fingers are inching up the thin material of your night dress, bunching it up, her thumbs tracing the ridges of your ribs, the weight of her body pressing you back into the plush couch, far too big for the pair of you —

“v-vi — wait —” you gasp away from her, fingers tangled in her oil slick hair, her mouth trailing hot and wet down the side of your neck. she makes a grumbling sound, nipping at your collarbones before resting her chin on your sternum, her hands still grazing further and further up your nightgown.

“c’mon princess — you got to play doctor, so now lemme pay you back proper —“

“vi.” the sharpness to your voice jolts her, and a frown creases her forehead as she blinks up at you with her gunpowder eyes, her fingers now still against your skin. you puff out a breath, pushing yourself back up to cup her cheeks, squeezing them slightly between your palms.

“i don’t want you to ‘pay me back’ for anything.”

hurt and confusion chase each other in a butterfly-wing flutter of emotions across her eyes before she pulls back.

“you don’t want this?”

you fight back the urge the roll your eyes as you sigh, reaching out to tug her back, this time, it’s you crowding into her personal space, leaning in to kiss her solidly on the lips. you feel her go soft against you, her hands cupping the ridges of your ribs once more.

“of course i want this,” you murmur against her lips, “but i — i don’t want it as ‘payback’ for anything. i…” your breath catches as vi leans in to nip at your bottom lip, heat pluming up the back of your neck, cresting into your chest as you blink at her, “i want this… if you want to give it. and — and i want it because — because i want you.”

she makes a strange, pitched noise in the back of her throat as she crushes you to her, her mouth slotting over yours so desperately that your teeth clack, but when she pulls back, she’s shaking her head, resting her forehead against yours with a sigh.

“shit princess — you can’t say shit like that and not expect me to lose my fuckin’ mind — fuck —“

you let out a tinkling laugh, fingers now massaging the cords of muscle at the nape of her neck. a shiver runs through her, her lashes a sweep of ink and shadow.

“relax… i’m not going anywhere. promise,” you remind her even as she tips into you once more, a whine working from her throat into yours as her fingers dig into the supple skin of your waist, dragging you down the length of the couch till you’re pinned beneath her thighs.

she pulls away panting, your own chest a staccato rise and fall. but your eyes are steady when she finds them again and you reach up to trace her cheek.

“when’s the last time you’ve had a bath?”

the question catches her off-guard, making her jerk back slightly, a frown ticking down between her brows.

“what?”

you giggle, “a bath. like, a proper one.”

one of her eyebrows kick up, “you sayin’ i smell or something?”

you sigh, yet again fighting the urge to roll your eyes as you push yourself up onto your elbows, your pink nightgown rucked up to your thighs, your hair falling out of the messy bun you’d twisted it up into earlier that evening.

“no,” you let your voice linger on the word, pinning vi with a look, “but you do taste like the inside of a paint can so.”

her eyes narrow but she lets you wiggle out from beneath her, your fingers trailing down her arm to tug her behind you as you lead her into the master bathroom. the light clicks on and vi scoffs.

“wow.”

“pick a bubble-bath, any bubble-bath — my favorite’s the —”

“rose one?” she finishes, lifting up the nearly empty bottle of light pink bubbly water displayed on a white marble shelf full of multi-colored liquids.

you allow yourself a blush as you shrug, twisting on the taps and testing the temperature, drying off your hand before turning back towards her.

“so i know what i like. sue me.”

vi smirks in honest this time, uncapping the bottle and wafting it beneath her nose.

“mm, delicious.”

you don’t miss the licentious lilt to her voice, nor the flicker of dark, hungry light in her eyes.

you turn away, leaning across the vast bathtub to grab a white can.

“if you think that’s delicious — wait till you see the sugar scrub — oh!”

a pair of arms snakes around your middle, pulling you back against abs and a bandaged up chest. vi’s voice is hot by your ear as she noses into the side of your cheek.

“yeah? is it gonna make me taste less like the inside of a paint can?”

“mhm,” you say, letting your free hand rest naturally over both of hers, the other hand dipping into the sugar scrub to swipe a dollop of sticky white crystals onto her nose. she gasps, jerking back for just a second, going slightly cross-eyed before a mischievous expression eclipses her features and she hoists you up into her arms, holding you suspended over the slowly filling bathtub.

“don’t play this game with me, princess — there’s only one way it’ll end.”

you let out a bright peal of laughter that echoes around the soft marble walls, looping both your arms around her neck.

“try me.”

for a second, she makes as if to drop you, but she pulls you back into her chest at the last second, cradling you against her.

“alright princess, let’s see how good this bath is,” she says, her voice soft as she sets you back down on your feet. you lean up to give her a quick peck before taking the rose-scented bubble bath and pouring it into the swirling water.

by the time the tub is filled, the room is filled with a thin gauze of steam, and when you turn, you find vi standing awkwardly behind you, watching with one hand on her opposite elbow, rocking on the balls of her feet.

“in general,” you say, pushing to your feet, “people take baths with their clothes off.”

vi’s cheeks go blotchy, and her eyes skitter about the room.

“what, i’m just supposed to strip here and —”

her words cut off abruptly as you turn your back on her and tug your night gown from your body, stepping into the bubble-filled water, glancing over your shoulder.

“you coming?”

vi nearly trips out of her tight-fitting pants, tugging haphazardly at the bandages wrapped around her torso. when she finally steps into the water opposite you, she drops down with a soft splash, a loud groan rolling from her as her eyes flutter shut.

when she forces them open again, it’s to find you watching her with your round doe eyes, a sweet, knowing smile perched over your very kissable lips. she wonders at the heat in her cheeks, at the way it prickles at her skin, thinks to herself that it must be the steam, must be the hot water currently melting away at the knots that had braided themselves into her muscles the past few weeks, but she when she feels your calf nudging against her’s she can’t help the way her breath skids inside her chest.

“c’mere,” you motion, and vi blinks at you for a second before shifting till you’re face to face, her hovering uncertainly between your legs before you jerk your chin for her to turn around.

the bathtub is more than big enough to fit the both of you, and for a while, a comfortable quiet settles as she leans her back against your chest, your fingers dancing up the length of her arms, trailing warm water along her shoulders, tangling in the rapidly lightening tips of her hair.

the dark dye runs off her, pluming in the water like spilled ink. you steadily work your fingers through her tresses, smoothing out the knots, occasionally letting your nails scrape against her scalp.

“holy fuck that feels nice…”

you smile, washing as much the dye out as you can before rubbing your thumbs into her shoulders, feeling the tightness coiled there like springs. she grunts, shifting beneath your touch.

“y-you don’t have to do this y’know —” she tries to pull away, only to have you click your tongue impatiently and tug her right back.

“lemme know if i’m hurting you, okay?” is the only thing you say as you continue to massage her shoulders.

she softens, letting out a long sigh and a small chuckle.

“you’d have to try real hard to manage that, sweetcheeks.”

you puff out a tiny breath before digging your thumb into a particularly tender knot, her entire body buckling away from you.

“ow!” she twists around, eyes wide, even as you cast her a look that has her turning back again, but not before she flicks a bit of water at you, her other hand resting easy on your knee, bent next to her hip as she leans against you once more.

“this is the first thing they teach you how to do in a brothel,” you say, your voice light as you slowly work the tightness from each of vi’s muscles, applying gentle pressure, using the bubbles as lubricant.

“wait what?” she tries to turn around again, only for you to pinch lightly at one of her loosening knots, tutting.

“stay still and i’ll tell you the story.”

she stills, though her breath is still short, and the hand that had so recently been lolling against your knee is now stiff, her fingers wrapped around your limb as if to brace herself for what you’re about to say next.

“most people don’t know this, but i’m actually from the undercity — all my earliest memories are of the brothel, the girls there braiding my hair, or letting me sit on their vanities, smearing bits of lipstick on my cheeks as rouge. i think my mother must’ve been one of those girls once but… i never knew her. and it didn’t really matter anyway — i think… i was one of the lucky ones. at least i always had water and a hot bath when i wanted it.”

vi’s fingers tighten on your thigh before she lets up her grip, sighing as she presses her back more firmly against you.

“i’m sorry.”

you shrug, shifting a bit of hair from one shoulder to the other as you continue to dig your meticulous fingers into her weary muscles.

“don’t be. like i said, i was one of the lucky ones. but… i always knew that we were living a hard life. sometimes, one of the girls would vanish and… we’d never know where she went. sometimes, a guest would get a bit too rough and —” you let out a tiny laugh, “well i got pretty good at patching up cuts and bruises.”

you flatten your palms against her skin, running them along the expanse of her shoulders before pushing down her arms to squeeze at her firm biceps.

“there. how’s that feel?”

vi sits up, rolling her neck and shoulders with a loud groan.

“damn. that feels amazing but —” her expression softens as she reaches for you, running tender thumbs along the bend of your cheek.

“you — you don’t have to tell me this if you don’t want to.”

“i know.” you catch her hand in yours, fingers curling in. all around you, perfumed mist hangs light in the air, hazing out the already diffused lighting. “but i want to.”

vi smiles, nodding.

you take another breath. your interlaced fingers sink into the murky water.

“when i turned thirteen, they started teaching me the ropes — massages first —”

“thirteen,” vi’s voice is harsh in the mist-hung room, the syllables cracking as they reverberate against the slick tiles.

you lilt your head, “how old were you when you ran your first job?”

vi stares, her mouth agape, “b-but — that’s — that’s different!”

“is it?”

she sputters for a few more seconds before deflating, shaking her head, tugging her hand from your grasp to splash water into her face, running both hands over her eyes with a groan.

somehow, she could picture it perfectly, you with your sweet smile and darling eyes, running deft fingers over the shoulders and necks of the unnamed girls at babette’s as they talk you through how to press just so, how to lull someone into your lap, and later, into your bed.

“but like i said… i was one of the lucky ones. really, really lucky — because one day, while i was refilling the water and tidying up the rooms, a guest heard me singing and… he offered me a gig topside.” you let yourself sink into the slowly cooling water, your hair flowing in a soft halo around your shoulders.

vi watches you with an inexplicable expression on her face — half-sadness, half-wonder.

“and the rest, well —” you flick a bit of water towards her; she blinks it away before pulling you into her chest, “you know the rest. or, i mean, i don’t know if you watched that entire 100-questions video —”

“i did.”

vi loops her arms around you, hooking her chin over your shoulder.

and once again, the quiet settles around you both, hanging solid in the air like so much dissipating steam.

“all that to say…” you murmur, turning slightly to face her, searching her eyes with your own, “you don’t have to pretend with me. not with me. not when it’s just the two of us.”

you watch her eyes widen ever so slightly, watch as her lips part and she hesitates over the words hanging at the tip of her tongue.

“thanks,” she finally manages, “for… for telling me this.”

you smile, pulling back to reach for the white can, unscrewing the top.

“okay. sugar-scrub time.”

by the time the pair of you leave the bath, the water’s cooled to a tepid chill at best. you offer vi a fluffy towel, wrapping one around yourself as you pad from the room in search for some clean loungewear.

you return with a large t-shirt and some shorts, which vi eyes for a second before pulling on, her cheeks darkening as she sees you watching her.

“quit looking at me like that…” she huffs as you tug on a loose shirt yourself, pulling on a pair of pink, lace-trimmed panties.

“like what? like you deserve to be looked at?” you ask, voice even as you run a towel over your damp hair. vi crinkles her nose, frowning down at her dirty clothes, piled in a lump on your bathroom floor. you shrug.

“leave it. that’s a tomorrow-problem. c’mon, bed-time.”

vi sighs, ruffling at her hair with the white towel, staring at the gray streaks she leaves behind. she glances up to find you standing by the bathroom door, a hand outstretched behind you, waiting.

she licks her lips before tossing the towel over her pile of clothes and reaching out to take your hand.

your bedroom is dark, lit only by the scatter of city lights from beyond your windows. through it, the city is a pulsing maze of tiny lights and spectral towers. you pause, glancing towards the skyline with a sigh.

“it’s a beautiful view,” vi says, coming up to stand behind you, looping an arm around your waist. you lean into her touch, her warmth, turning slightly to find her eyes just as faraway.

“yeah,” you grin, reaching up to touch her cheek, “you are.”

she turns, blinking at you for a second before your words register. she groans even as you laugh, the sound fizzling through her till her skin prickles with warmth and goosepimples.

“c’mon. bed.” she says, and you grin, allowing yourself to be led to your own bed, pulling back the silken covers, slipping beneath and watching as vi inches in next to you, pillowing her cheek on her arm. you angle your body towards hers, letting out a long, steadying breath.

she mirrors you — one breath, then another, then another.

“thanks, princess,” she says, after a few long moments.

you shuffle forward beneath the blankets, reaching out to wrap an arm around her waist. she closes her eyes, bending her head till you’re nose to nose.

“for what?”

vi lets out a puffed laugh, her lashes fluttering open again.

“for… letting me in.”

you press you lips, your eyes searching her’s. and here, in the dim moon-lit night, her eyes shone like twin stars, bright as firelights. you inch just a bit closer, letting your foreheads press as she shifts an arm to slip around your waist as well.

you hook your ankle over hers, shimmying till you’re hip to hip, your bodies arched into each other, bend for bend. she bites down on her lip, if only to stop it from quivering. you graze your hand up her arm to rest on her cheek.

“you know you’re always welcome here.”

vi laughs, the sound strangely watery as she blinks away the hot prickle biting up the back of her throat. it’s been so long since she’s had anywhere to come back to. and here you are, offering it up to her on a gold-gilded platter.

“yeah?” she says, even though her voice shakes and she has to swallow hard over the lump in her throat as she coaxes your chin up, angling your lips towards hers, “careful… i might actually take you up on that.”

“whatever’s mine is —” your breath hitches high as vi tugs you into her, crushing your lips to hers, a thick groan working it’s way through her chest. you taste salt on your tongue, even as she trails her mouth along your jawline to suck a dark, blossoming hickey into the side of your throat.

“— yours.” you finish, spearing your fingers through her hair to pull her back, your eyes soft in the gathering darkness. vi lets out a tiny, pitched whine as she buries her face in your chest, her body curling in on itself. you rock her against you, letting her grapple her fingers into your nightshirt, clutching you to her even as you sooth your palms over her head and neck, shushing her gently.

“fuck, princess…” she says, her voice slightly muffled, “you’re tryna spoil me rotten, huh.”

you smile, letting her pull back just far enough to catch a glimpse of your face.

“well, someone’s gotta do it.”

vi chuckles, the sound rumbling from her chest to yours.

“yeah well… i’m glad you’re the one angling for the job, sweets.”

you hum, letting your eyes fall shut as vi’s grip on you loosens, and the pair of you sink into the liquid warmth of each others bodies.

vi shifts, tucking you deeper into her arms as you content yourself with sighing into her skin, and it’s an almost automatic spin-click of both your bodies, your limbs settling into and against each other, your torsos turning to just the right spot, just the right angles to fit against one another.

you settle, and feel the world settle around you — time itself seems to breathe and slacken, the evening-shaped seconds and minutes ticking each into its own place, like the teeth on a set of cogs, catching one rung into another, spinning one after the other till everything starts to hum into place.

sleep slips its gossamer gauze over your eyes and vi shifts, her lips ghosting your forehead.

“whatever gods up there that put you in my life…” she whispers, her voice tight, you make a soft noise, like a question, or perhaps a confirmation, leaning up to level your faces once more. your eyes open and vi finds her own reflection staring back at her, the shape somehow softened by your gaze, and she wonders, not for the first time, what you see in her, what you’ve always seen in her, that makes you so…

“there’s already a shrine set up for them in the living room,” you murmur, and for a second, vi stares, her own mind quiet for the first time in a long while. you smile sleepily at her confusion, nuzzling her nose with yours, “what, you didn’t know? i’d been thanking them for you since the first day we met.”

vi makes a sound like a hiccup, shaking her head as warmth bubbles through her, a champagne-colored shake-fizzle-pop of emotions welling up behind her eyes, making her head spin.

“well shit —” she grins, tugging you ever closer, “you’re always one step ahead of me, aren’t you princess?”

you hum, carding your fingers through her hair as she settles against you once more.

“mhm,” a tired little yawn, “and maybe tomorrow morning, if you’re feeling up to it —”

“yeah?” vi’s voice is soft, is sweet, is almost reverent as she kisses the skin of your sternum, her lips lingering right beneath your collarbones.

“i could show you some of the other things i picked up at the brothel.”

vi groans, her fingers digging into your hips at the tantalizing thought.

“mm, you mean other than giving people amazing shoulder massages?”

you laugh, and outside, a large neon sign flickers off, tossing the room into a deeper, richer dark.

“yep. but for now…”

“sleep?” vi asks.

you nod, watching as her eyelids flutter shut, and you let yours do the same. your fingers find hers beneath the blankets; your palms press and she gives you a tiny squeeze. you squeeze back and smile.

“sleep.”

[ye4gerism]

𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐊𝐒𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐋𝐘 - 𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐋𝐘 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

author’s note hi. happy thanksgiving. still writing the two final parts of good luck, captain. who knew writing smut could be so embarrassing? anyway, these headcanons take place in the world of good luck, captain. my requests are open - feel free to drop by

PRE - CRASH

• You and Curly had been talking about Thanksgiving for months. You had tried to convince him to come over to California but he insisted you come to Colorado to meet his maternal side

• You were really just trying to avoid this mom, who made it very very clear you weren’t the one for her son (in her eyes) and his weird roommate, Jimmy.

• You give in and months later you’re met by multiple cousins, aunts, and uncles. They’re actually pretty chill. It’s fun hearing their strong Australian accents going back and forth about if chicken or seafood is a better alternative to turkey

• Curly’s nieces and nephews are so in love with him and you fall even more in love with him when you see how much he cares for them

• “Isn’t he adorable?” Curly’s holding the youngest member of his family and you’re up against his arm, admiring the baby. “You two would look good as parents,” an aunt says.

• Okay, external family? Perfect. But his mom? Ooh…

• You try to extend an olive branch by presenting the pie you brought for dinner - she gives you a dirty look and goes on to greet another family member. You offer to help finish up with dinner - “You…don’t really look like you know what you’re doing.” You even breathing Curly’s air had miss girl fuming

• But your boyfriend, as usual, just smile nods and tells you that his “mumsie” will warm up to you

• This is the one holiday where you don’t run into issues with Jimmy because he’s fed - for free! You actually see him crack a smile once

• At the end of the dinner, you go up to Curly’s old room for bed. You’re cuddled up against him. “Can we do my place next time?” you ask, “Don’t get me wrong, the rest of your family’s nice…but I think you’ll like my Thanksgiving better.”

He looks back at you and chuckles. “I guess it’s only fair.”

POST - CRASH

• It takes a few years to get Thanksgiving on its feet in your home

• At the beginning, you’d both acknowledge the holiday and the hospital he was being treated at would send over a little Thanksgiving plate

• But when he could finally come home, you slowly started to integrate a lot of festivities in your lives, like Thanksgiving

• It’s really just the two of you - you rotate between turkey, chicken, and ham each year

• You watch a little bit of football before watching a Christmas movie on your couch before dosing off

[potchi-fics]

break in (part two of attention)

i | ii | iii | iv

      jingling keys fill the hallway, shakily putting the key into your apartment. you cant help but berate yourself for the mess you've caused earlier: what the fuck am i doing. after a few seconds, you let out a breath of relief as you finally step inside your home.

"oh my god," you shrug your coat off, hanging it. "thats the last time im ever doing that."

      you make your way into your living room, noticing how everything looks the same but yet different-- you take a look around: the lights are off, the rug is untouched, and my couch is..

shit.

"surprised?" her familiar rough voice sends chills up your spine, "nice place you got here, topsider."

you carefully but slowly grab your slightly tainted with blood dagger, "leave."

      a scowl forms on your tired face, eyebrows furrowing, and your stance tensing up. leisurely, she rises to her feet; you just barely see the smoke she puffs out. her height is a bit intimidating, you admit. her mechanical arm is glowing in the dim room, and her muscular back. god, she looks so solid. 

her muscular back?

your train of thought gets cut off when she turns to finally look at you, her stupid mouth turning into a smirk. right then and there, you think to yourself that you already hate her.

she stubs out her cigarette on your table, "what were you-"

"are you serious?" your face morphs into anger now, "thats a very expensive table."

      sevika's shoulder slumps at what you said, but you paid no mind to her. only pushing her aside to get the cigarette and clean the ash, patting the remnants of the cig rather furiously. she tries again, only to get cut off again by you suddenly turning your heated gaze at her.

"look, i dont know what you want from me," you step towards her, dagger in hand. "but have some respect."

      before you can lecture her again, she swings her fist at you, which you swiftly dodge. she tried to grab you using her mechanical arm. however, you batted it away with your right hand-- throwing a slash of your dagger right back at her, successfully making a small wound in the corner of her lip. you attempt to combo with a hook to her rib, but you aren't so lucky this time because she evades, grabbing you and pulling you close: she smells like wood and cigarette. 

she puts her face close to yours, "you sure youre just an engineer, topsider?" you grit your teeth, "you sure know how to fight."

"let me go," using the element of surprise; you headbutt her, "what do you want from me?"

      you dont miss how she stumbles back, you also dont miss how she smirks at your actions. 

you roll your eyes, "you into that shit?"

"only if youre into it," sevika throws back. "look, im not here to fight, topsider."

sevika almost laughs at how your jaw drops, "girl, fuck do you mean im not here to fight? you literally threw a punch first."

      she smirks once more, pissing you even more off. sevika gives you a shrug before plopping down on your newly washed cushions, her dirty boots finally stepping on your rug.

"you know what, you may be sevika, silco's righthand woman," you march at her, "but dont be putting your dirty clothes on my shit."

sevika ignores you, "what, you scared im gonna dirty your shit?"

"yes, thats exactly it, sevika." you deadpan.

      you take a sit in front of her, using the other couch-- still wary. you take this time to stare at her again. assessing what she's wearing; to see if she has any more weapons, of course. your eyes roam from her thick thighs up to her waist, and finally reaching her face. christ, those cheekbones and jaw-- the things you would do. but a spark from her mechanical arm catches your arm. you tilt your head, analyzing on why thats happening.

"done staring?" you roll your eyes for what feels like a thousand times now, "i need you to fix my arm. did my research on you, and i know youre capable of fixing my damn arm."

you give sevika an are-you-fucking-kidding-me look, "why would you break into my home for that? you couldve gone to my shop."

      she only replies with a lazy shrug, annoying you again. the world really is testing your patience. you thought you'd be scared of the woman in front of you; never did you think that you'd be annoyed instead. 

      she only replies with a lazy shrug, annoying you again. the world really is testing your patience. you thought you'd be scared of the woman in front of you; never did you think that you'd be annoyed instead. you still dont trust her, still mad that she broke into your home, started a fight, and is making herself at home.

"if i fix it, will you leave?" she nods, not saying anything. "fine. stay here, dont even move an inch."

      you hurriedly get your toolbox, desperate to get rid of her. you come back to her still on your couch; she's basically taking up all the damn space in it. she looks at you as you pull up a chair beside her whirring arm. you take another look at it, and from the looks of it, the damage is most likely inside, seeing how it is perfectly fine: a few dents here and there, but overall fine.

with hesitation, you ask the zaunite, "may i?"

"go for it, topsider." she offers you her arm.

you scoff at her, "please stop calling me that."

      you begin to unscrew the tiny screws using your electric screwdriver, putting the screws aside, you pull the cover. the wirings are a mess. you asses it for a few seconds before going to work again; you grumble a few curses out because of the messy wiring, saying how can anyone be so careless.

"y'know, instead of punching me," you plug the loose wire back into its place, "punch the bitch who made this mess."

      a snort escapes from her, not expecting your vulgarity. not one word is said after that, and you let it stay that way; breathing and the noises of your tools are only heard in your quiet apartment, finally relaxing while rebuilding her arm. minutes pass and youre screwing the last screw into her arm before patting it.

you tell her, "all done, im not expecting any payment since its just a loose wire."

"not bad, topsider." sevika takes a look at her brand new-ish arm.

      you stand up and wordlessly point to your door, wanting her to leave as soon as possible because, at this point, you just want to sleep. you just want to feel your soft pillows and soft mattress. 

"oh," she walks to your window instead, "i didnt enter there."

    i hate you so much.

[masontheevildm]

Hi :D

I’m an aromantic mlm who likes the idea of men

(I am also nwlnw)

1. THE FOREST THE FOREST THE FOREST

2. Hmm I don’t really have one? I don’t listen to romance songs

3. Acknowledgment and physical contact

4.single!

5. So I’ve had too many to count but my “crushes” are just “slightly attractive friends” so..

6. Yes!

7. Technically yes, as I develop a friendship with someone

8. A cute Disney movie is a great go-to. Even if you’ve already seen it!

9. I’m classic and roses r my favorite, but Lily of the valleys are pretty nice.

10. So maybe a hand-knitted piece for year-anniversaryies, if it’s a month then chocolates and nice dinner!

11. Definitely in my bones, by my favorite enby creator, Bowie bugs

12. Touch! I love cuddling with friends

13. None tbh..pet names irk me a bit.

14. Yes but not smut

15.Daisuke from mouthwash..

16.i don’t mind either but I prefer quiet. Someone I can just chill with.

17. Winter from wings of fire!

18. All pasta without tomatoes

19. “Poison” from Bowie bugs

20. “I feel like I can just tell you anything.”

21. Forehead! Cheek is a bit awkward and mouth kisses can suck if the other person has chapped lips

22. Back massage, my back pain sucks..

23. Can honestly say, not at the moment.

24. Being restrained..

25. I love it! It’s so fun and if you can gross out friends even better

26. Just a hand on the shoulder and being able to talk but not forced to is great.

27.touch. Duh.

28.i would say little spoon but i stretchhh in bed so im not sure

29. My turn, what’s your preferred personality in a boyfriend/partner?

mlm ask game!

1. ideal date location?

2. favorite mlm song?

3. what makes you feel loved?

4. are you single or taken?

5. how many crushes have you had?

6. what's your type?

7. do you develop crushes quickly?

8. best show or movie for a date night at home?

9. what are your favorite flowers?

10. what would you give as a gift on an anniversary?

11. what's your favorite album?

12. what's your love language?

13. what are some pet names that make you blush?

14. do you read fanfiction?

15. any fictional crushes?

16. loud boys or quiet boys?

17. any characters you headcanon as mlm?

18. what's your comfort food?

19. last song you listened to?

20. best compliment you ever received?

21. kiss on the lips, cheek or forehead?

22. scalp massage or back massage?

23. any celebrity crushes?

24. what's your guilty pleasure?

25. do you like PDA?

26. how do you prefer to be comforted?

27. favorite way to express affection?

28. big spoon or little spoon?

29. freebie! ask or prompt to share something random

[taurasiscntybun]

Thanksgiving stuffing

- BG x Femme reader

-Graphic descriptions of sex, adult language, size kink, daddy kink, sub/dom

- 1,500

-for @taurasicomplex so she can stop sending me anon bg requests

“Fuck B, you know I gotta get this going before your mom an’em comes.” You say as BG wraps herself around you against the counter. You attempt to ignore her, flipping through your worn recipe book, trying to remember how much butter went in the cornbread.

“Mmmm, come on baby, calm down, you got half of tomorrow to cook too, and mom and pops will be here.” Her large hands wander under your apron and tease at the hem of your tee shirt.

“I gotta at least have the cornbread done by the time your parents get here, it would be embarrassing if I didn’t. Plus, I need to get the turkey out of its brine and stuff it.” You anxiously babble, and she leans downs to kiss your neck.

“Chill baby, you have plenty of time I promise, now, you need to relax a little.” B’s hands go around your hips and she lifts you with ease, sitting you on the small amount of free space on the counter.

“I don’t wanna hear it. I’ll clean up, but before you stuff the turkey… you gotta let me stuff you.” She gives you an exaggerated wink at her bad joke. You huff a laugh through your nose and shake your head, clearing a bit of space on either side of you. She leans forward, resting her hands in the newly cleared spaces as she cages you in.

“You’re just so cute in your apron, cooking up for me babygirl.” BG kisses down your jaw and neck, her plush lips feather light against your skin.

“I w..wanted to make a good impression.” You stammer and tilt your body to the side a bit, exposing more of your neck to her. She pulls away, her hands moving to your thighs and rubbing soothingly.

“I told you babygirl, they’re gonna like whoever is makin’ me happy. I promise, baby, my family is gonna love you.” B gives your thighs a supportive squeeze and resumes kissing down your neck. She subtly pulls your hips forward and steps between your thighs.

“B I really should be cooking.” You protest weakly, regretting only cooking in one of BGs big shirts and panties. Your protests are half hearted and she knew it. She pushes your knees up and back, tilting your hips and exposing your wet panties.

“My little babygirl is a liar, but that's ok.I just wanna ease your stress.” BG angles her large stature to support your legs as her nimble fingers tease the side of your underwear.

“Fuck. Ok… ok… hurry before your parents get here.” You give in in a flustered tone and wiggle out of your panties. As you drop them to the floor, B teases a finger through your folds.

“So wet for me” She groans and leans over the counter to kiss you, her finger still teasing and not giving you what you needed.

“Stop teasing, we’re on a time crunch.”

“That’s why I’m teasing babygirl, and ain’t nobody got a key; so nobody gonna see anything. I’m teasing cause you gotta relax mama.” She lifts your leg higher and kisses from your inner thigh all the way to your ankle bone above your slipper, the sudden move eliciting giggles from you.

“Alright, alright please” you whine and wiggle your ankle in her grasp.

“Please what babygirl? Please help you in the kitchen? Please mow the lawn? Please make you cum?” She teases and bites your thigh gently. You squirm on the counter and glare up at her.

“Please make me cum.”

“You know I was being so nice and wanted you to have some stress relief from cookin, but what was that attitude baby? Am I gonna have to get a little more stern?”

You moan and nod

“Please daddy make me cum.” You amend and she lowers your leg, her hand moving up your thigh to tease at your wet pussy again.

“Good girl.” B praises, and pushes one of her long fingers in your core.

“Oh fuck, daddy, yes.” You moan and lean back on your elbows to support yourself, BG leaned over you. She pumps her finger in and out, her thumb finding your clit and circling it lazily.

“You’re so tight baby girl, you can barely take one finger; I’m gonna stretch you out so good later when you cum all over my cock. I guess I gotta start prepping you now baby.” She groans and introduces another thick finger to your core. You whimper at the stretch and sit up a little to grab her.

“I need more of you, daddy, please.” You know there’s no time for the strap right now, but B was perfectly proficient with her fingers. You cling to her, needing to feel more of her strong body.

“Shhh you gotta relax then baby, come on, let daddy into your pretty pussy.” She croons and captures your lips in a brutal kiss. You moan against her in response and your hips jolt as she pushes a second finger in, stretching your tight cunt deliciously. BG grins into the kiss and crooks her finger up, hitting the sensitive spot inside you.

“Oh fuck yes! Please, more like that daddy!” You beg and sag back onto the counter, arms under you for support. B braces herself against the counter and brings her free hand up to cradle your head, letting you rest in her big hand. Her motions don’t stop, moving in c motion, the heal of hand rubbing against your clit as she buries her fingers deep.

“You like that babygirl? Getting stuffed by my fingers?” Her voice was rough with lust, but you saw the smile on her face at her little joke.

“Yes daddy, yes!” You whimper, and your pussy throbs around her thick fingers.

“See now you’re nice and relaxed, that’s what you needed, and now you’re gonna cum for daddy. I wanna feel your tight pussy spasm around my fingers, then you’re gonna stand up and make the rest of our thanksgiving dinner with your cum dripping down your thighs. My good little wife.” BG rambled before bending down to kiss you sloppily. Her fingers move faster; her pace punishing as she thrusts into you.

“Fuck good girl, squirting on my fingers? You’re close.” BG thrusts her fingers up and pushes down on your belly.

“You feel me here babygirl?” She groans. Her finger brushes your cervix and you moan, your orgasm close.

“Need’ta cum daddy please” you beg and grab her shoulder.

“Alright baby,since you’re such a good girl I’m gonna let you cum all over my hand.” B smirks and slows her pace but makes each movement deliberate. Your pussy quivers around her and your breath hitches as you approach your peak. As your pussy spams around her fingers, she groans “that’s right baby, cum all over daddy’s fingers, right now baby.” Her voice is soft but you can hear the demand in it. She grinds her palm against your clit one more time and you cry out, your orgasm washing over you.

“Oh shit B!” You moan.

“Fuck good girl baby” BG praises and kisses you again, her tongue and fingers moving in slow rhythm together.

You tremble and ride and waves of your orgasm, her touch turning gentler to draw it out. She pulls her fingers out and brings them up to your mouth.

“Lick them clean for me.” She commands and stands straighter. You close your mouth around her fingers and swirl your tongue. She pushes her fingers deeper, forcing you to gag on your own release. Tears spring to your eyes and she bend down and kisses them away, finally pulling her finger out slightly. You gasp for air and try to slurp up the spit.

“Mmm did you taste good baby? Clean it all off my fingers.” She commands gently and straightens your rumpled apron lovingly. You lick her fingers clean and press a small kiss on the cross tattooed on her finger. B gives a hum of contentment and pulls her hand away.

“Alright babygirl why don’t we take round two to the bedroom and I can fuck you in nothing but your apron.” She nibbles your earlobe as you try to compose yourself.

“It depends on how much time we have-“ The gate bell sounds and your time is up.

“Fuck and I don’t even have the turkey in the oven.” You groan and slide off the counter.

“It’s ok, you go get dressed baby and I’ll blame myself, trust me, they’ll believe it.” BG rests her chin on the top of your head and helps you untie the apron and hugs you close.

[reyndesilly]

Maybe perhaps

[there was a reportedly unknown and new cryptid roaming about the forest, lurking in the shadows and killing much smaller cryptids and eating parts of their bodies. It seemed to be looking for something, and scratched symbols on trees it passes to keep track of where it’s been.]

[it was a bit smaller than an elephant close to their height idk ;-; it’s hind legs hooves and its forearms and hands more human with animalistic features. Their large ears swiveled around to listen closely to its surroundings, the wings across their entire body folded neatly and tightly against itself. The eyes down its tail and on its face looked every which way, making sure it wouldn’t be attacked or watched without it knowing. A perpetual, permanent braid grin stretched across its face, narrowing some of the eyes closer to the edge of their maw where their mouth was.]

@designation0

Zenu, the head of the camp, after realizing most hunters were not in the camp and on missions that spread outside of the forest quickly called Reyn. Zenu felt bad, knowjng Reyn had a rough night last night with the demon and skinwalker shit, but he couldn’t call up less experienced campers for a brand new cryptid.

So, Reyn was now ’casually’ strolling in the forest with a shotgun on their back and a pistol on their belt. Right now, they were going to simply observe this new guy, as it was technically helping and no one nice has been killed yet. There was a close call with the vampires already though, which was the reason they had guns on them despite the wendigo herd in the area being chill with them.

[supercorpkid]

The Best Kind of Trouble - part 1

Supergirl. Lena Luthor x Reader! Kara Danvers. Alex Danvers.

Word Count: 3645.

The other part is coming soon.

Ever since you met Lena, the two of you have had a knack for stumbling into the strangest situations together. It’s almost like the universe has a sense of humor at your expense. But every time it happens, you find yourself quietly asking: How did we get here?

Take the first time you met her. It was Alex’s birthday, and she’d dragged everyone out to a bar she swore was ‘low-key and chill’, but turned out to be neither. You exchanged a soft hey with Lena when Kara introduced you, your eyes flickering up just long enough to clock how ridiculously stunning she was before quickly looking away. She was nice, but that was it. 

And yet, by the end of the night, you found yourself sitting on her lap.

It wasn’t like you’d planned it, obviously. Everyone was too wasted to drive, and when you were all cramming into the car, someone pointed out there weren’t enough seats for everyone to sit properly. As the smallest person in the group, the solution seemed obvious to them—if not to you. Not Alex’s lap, because her girlfriend might have something to say about that. Not Kara’s, because she’d called shotgun before anyone could argue. And not Nia’s, because Brainy would enjoy less than someone splitting an atom incorrectly.

So there you were, perched awkwardly on Lena’s thighs as the car lurched into motion. Her hand rested on the edge of the seat, close enough that you could feel the warmth of her skin through your jeans. It was fine. A bit uncomfortable, sure. And definitely weird. But fine. At least until Kelly hit a pothole, and your body jolted against hers, leaving you both a little too aware of how close you actually were.

The second time you meet, it’s just you and Lena—stuck in an elevator at the DEO. The system glitches mid-maintenance, and before you can process what’s happening, the elevator groans to a stop. You and Lena exchange wide-eyed glances.

“At least we’re not free-falling,” Lena quips, though the sheen of sweat on her brow betrays her ease.

You press the emergency call button. After a pause, Alex’s voice cracks through the speaker. “What’s up?” she asks casually, like it isn’t a full-blown crisis.

“We’re stuck,” Lena steps closer to the panel, her voice calm but sharp. “Care to fix that before this turns into a sauna?”

“Oh, yeah,” Alex replies, like she just remembered. “Tech says it’s a quick fix. A few minutes, tops.”

Lena arches a skeptical brow at the speaker. “A few minutes,” she repeats, unimpressed.

“Promise,” Alex’s smirk is practically audible. “Try not to kill each other.”

The line clicks off, leaving silence. You sigh and lean against the wall. A few minutes stretch into twenty. The air thick, hot, and stifling, makes Lena shrug off her blazer, folding it neatly as she leans back against the opposite wall.

“You should lose the jacket,” she suggests casually, adjusting the collar of her blouse.

You hesitate but eventually give in. The all-black uniform feels unbearable, and you pull it off, revealing a thin, sweat-soaked white tank top beneath—and yes, you’re aware it’s completely see-through. Lena’s gaze lingers a second too long, a faint smile tugging at her lips.

“What?” you ask, your voice tighter than you’d like.

“Nothing,” she murmurs, her tone softer. “You’re just really flushed. You alright?”

“Really hot circumstances, you know,” you reply quickly, and the instant the words leave your mouth, you regret them. The double meaning isn’t lost on her, and her smile deepens.

“Do tell.” Her gaze flicks back to the floor a beat too late.

Alex’s voice breaks in, unprompted. “Sorry, guys. A few more minutes. But hey, silver lining—you’ve got each other!”

Lena closes her eyes briefly, her fingers gripping the panel’s edge. “Wonderful. Thanks, Alex.”

Lena mutters, the words like a half-hearted attempt at dismissal. Her gaze lingers on you a second too long, and there’s a flicker of something in her eyes—a warmth that doesn’t quite match the cool distance she’s trying to keep.

“Anytime,” Alex chirps, clearly ignoring the sarcasm, before the line clicks dead.

Lena moves back to the wall—closer this time. Her arm brushes yours, the touch fleeting but enough to send a shiver down your spine despite the oppressive heat.

She starts a soft conversation to pass the time, but every glance she steals, every movement she makes, feels like static in the air. Her hand brushes yours again, and this time neither of you pulls away.

The air between you shifts. You meet her gaze, and Lena meets yours, her eyes darker and deeper than you’ve ever seen. For a heartbeat, it’s just her. Just the heat of her gaze.

Then the elevator jolts, snapping the moment like a rubber band. Lena straightens her blouse, retrieves her blazer, and slips back into her usual composure like armor.

“Well,” her lips curl into a faint smile, “let’s not make a habit of only meeting in these weird situations.”

You nod, following her out into the cool hallway, but the memory of her gaze lingers—along with the heat that has nothing to do with the elevator.

And then, it does become a habit.

There’s the storm during a game night at Kara’s apartment. The power goes out, and everyone splits up to search for flashlights. Somehow, you and Lena end up fumbling in the same closet, searching for batteries. It’s pitch black, the kind of darkness that muffles everything, even the sound of your own breath.

Your hands brush—once, then again—and you freeze. The silence between you feels deafening, and just as your breath catches, Lena breaks it with a low, teasing murmur. “Should I be worried you keep trying to hold my hand?”

It’s playful. Too playful. But the words hang in the air like an open challenge, and you can’t quite laugh the way you want to. Instead, your breath stops, and that awkward sound you make isn’t nearly enough to push the tension away.

It only makes it worse. You can feel the charge between you, an electric hum that shivers down your spine. It wraps around your chest, your pulse racing with it. Then, just as the moment is about to consume you, the lights flicker back on. The sudden brightness stings your eyes, and it’s like the world has slapped you back into reality.

You blink, disoriented, standing there in the small closet, the air between you still heavy and thick. Too close. You’re too close.

“Look at us,” Lena whispers, breath hot on your face. “Stuck together somewhere small and hot.” Her words roll out slowly, like she’s savoring them. “It agrees with you.”

The words settle on your skin like a flame, and your throat goes dry, your chest tight. You stay frozen in place, unable to form the words that might undo whatever she just implied. She steps out of the closet, leaving you standing there, the heat of her words still burning into your skin.

Small and hot. Was she talking about you?

Of course, you’re roped into helping Nia move into Brainy’s new place. The apartment is a disaster zone—boxes everywhere, and Brainy’s color-coded system only makes things worse. The real issue? The couch. An L-shaped monstrosity that refuses to budge no matter what you do.

Alex is running late, Kara has a Supergirl emergency, and Brainy has to leave too. So now it’s a five-person job being executed by you.

Just as you’re about to lose your mind, Lena breezes in, taking in the chaos. “What on Earth are you doing?”

“Fighting for my life,” you say, sweat dripping.

She steps closer, looking annoyingly perfect in her blouse and jeans. “It looks like you’re losing.”

“Glad you could join us. Came to judge, or help?”

“You know I love watching people fail,” Lena smirks, crouching by the couch. “Have you tried taking the legs off?”

“The legs?” You narrow your eyes. “That’s your solution?”

“It’s called problem-solving,” she says, inspecting the bolts with an infuriatingly calm precision. “You should try it sometime.”

You grab the screwdriver. “Fine. Let’s see if your genius plan works.”

It works. Because Lena is a genius. An annoyingly pretty, rich, flirty genius. But it works at the expense of her being so close to you, you can’t think straight—pun intended. Her perfume is maddeningly pleasant, and her eyes are provocatively distracting. It works at the expense of your sanity.

“You’re blushing,” she teases.

“No, I’m sweating,” you snap, looking away.

When the move is over, Alex strolls in with a six-pack, pretending she didn’t miss all the hard work. You're annoyed, but then Lena leans in beside you, her shoulder brushing yours. “We work well together, don’t you think?”

And somehow, you’re not mad anymore.

Once again, you're dragged into something you have no business being a part of. Kara needed help with a DEO tech project, and as you step into the lab, it hits you—you’re the only uniformed officer here. The other two? Alex and Lena. Of course.

“Kara? Why am I here?” you ask, already suspicious.

“We need the brightest minds for this!” Kara beams.

You arch an eyebrow. “Yeah? Then why am I here?”

Lena chuckles softly, her gaze sweeping over you with a hint of mischief. “Come on, Y/N. You’re smarter than you think.”

It takes you a second to process the unexpected compliment. You snort, trying to play it off. “If you say so.”

Before you can protest further, Alex’s phone buzzes, and her face shifts into full-on mission mode. “Crisis. Gotta go.”

“Wait, you’re leaving us?” Unbelievable. Somehow, you’re always the one stuck with Lena. And, annoyingly, it secretly thrills you.

“We trust you two,” Kara says with a reassuring pat on your arm before she and Alex rush out the door.

Lena shrugs, her smirk firmly in place. “Looks like it’s just us.”

Great. Just you, Lena, and whatever tension has been simmering between you lately. You try to focus on the device in front of you—some kind of world-saving gadget Kara swore needed attention—but it’s nearly impossible with Lena standing so close.

“Fantastic,” you mutter under your breath. “Just me and the world-saving gadget.”

Lena leans in, her shoulder brushing yours ever so slightly, her voice dropping to a maddeningly low pitch. “You’ve got a brilliant mind, and I’m a genius. We’re good together.”

The double meaning in her words isn’t lost on you. Your throat tightens, your pulse kicking up. You grin despite yourself, hoping to keep things light. “Flattery? Is that how you survive the workday?”

Her smile lingers, warmer this time. “Maybe. But I mean it.”

The air between you shifts—heavier now, charged. Every glance, every brush of her hand sends your focus spinning. And then, as if the universe wants to make things even more difficult, Lena stretches, her shirt lifting just enough to reveal a sliver of a tattoo. Your mouth goes dry.

“Everything okay?” she asks, turning her head just enough to catch you staring.

You force a laugh, trying to sound normal. “Yeah. Totally fine.”

Her eyes narrow, amusement dancing in their depths. “Are you sure? You’re looking a little… flushed.”

You should’ve seen it coming—the teasing, the way her words seem to coil around you, the brush of her fingers against your arm. You should’ve expected it, but you’re thrown every time.

“Hot,” you blurt out, feeling like an idiot. “The room. It’s just... so hot.”

She leans in, impossibly close now, her breath brushing against your skin as she whispers, “You do tend to run hot a lot, don’t you?”

Your brain short-circuits. The world narrows to just her—the warmth of her proximity, the scent of her perfume, the way her voice feels like it’s wrapping around your chest and pulling tight. You can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t move.

When you don’t respond, she pulls back with a soft exhale, her gaze lingering. “Maybe we should take a break,” she suggests, her voice quieter now, almost hesitant.

You nod too quickly, practically bolting for the air vent. Sitting on the floor directly beneath it, you try to calm your racing heart. But of course, Lena follows, settling beside you—close enough to make you question if she’s doing it on purpose.

“You look tired,” she says after a beat.

“I’m fine,” you lie, closing your eyes like that might drown out the scent of her perfume or the way she’s completely invaded your space. “Just need a minute.”

And somehow, the next thing you know, you’re waking up with your cheek pressed to her shoulder. Her scent is intoxicating, her warmth like a trap you don’t want to escape. Your heart stutters as you jerk away. “Oh my God. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“Relax, darling.” Her smirk is maddening, her tone teasing but impossibly soft. “I told you—you were tired.”

Your face burns. “Yeah, but I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine.” Her grin doesn’t falter, her eyes dancing with something that makes your stomach flip. “I didn’t mind.”

Before you can say anything else, Kara and Alex return, their voices pulling you back to reality. You scramble to your feet, putting as much space as possible between you and Lena. But as the lab hums back to life, her warmth lingers on your skin, and her knowing smile burns in your mind, refusing to fade.

Then again you’ve somehow ended up in the thick of feelings you can't even comprehend.

“Director Danvers?” You press the comm into your ear, the usual buzz of activity humming in the background. “I’m in position for the lookout.” You scan the area once more, making sure no one’s watching. “And it seems I’m the only one here.”

“Great. Supergirl’s on her way with backup,” comes Alex’s voice over the comm, calm but urgent. “Just sit tight and take pictures if you see someone entering the place. We need proof this is a Cadmus lair.”

“Copy that. I’ll stay put.”

The place they’ve stationed you at is… unexpected. You thought secret lairs were supposed to be hidden, not right on the water like some kind of expensive real estate. The view is gorgeous—wide, endless blue stretching out to meet the horizon, the water sparkling in the late afternoon light. It almost feels too peaceful for the task at hand.

Minutes later, you hear the faint sound of a familiar whoosh, and Supergirl lands beside you, Lena tucked gently in her arms. As she sets Lena down, Kara gives you a brief smile. “Okay, I’ll leave you two here for a minute. I’ll be back to pick you up before we break in. Lena, use the watch if you need me.”

Lena gives her a small nod, her eyes lingering on Kara for just a moment before she turns to you. “We’ll keep a lookout, boss.” She tries to be casual, but there's an edge of uncertainty in her voice.

Kara winks before she takes off, leaving you alone with Lena. You know it’s time to talk. You’ve been avoiding her—after that last time you saw her, when you fell asleep on her shoulder, things have been weirder. But now, standing next to her, so close, you can’t keep pretending like it doesn’t matter. You have to break the silence.

“Hey,” you say, your voice is a little softer than you meant. She glances at you, her expression unreadable for a beat before she offers you a tight smile.

Lena takes a seat next to you, her gaze shifting toward the lair. “Looks like something my mother would do,” she says, voice steady but with a hint of something else you can’t quite place. “Have a secret lair in plain sight. With a view like that.”

She gestures toward the building, but it’s clear her attention is more on you than the lair. You catch her glance, and for a moment, you’re not sure if it’s just the light or if her eyes are a little softer than usual.

“It is gorgeous,” you agree, your voice barely above a whisper. You’re not sure if you’re still talking about the view. It’s hard to focus on anything else with her so close—so close that you can feel the warmth from her body.

Lena shifts a little, and her leg brushes against yours. The contact is light, but it makes your heart stutter. She doesn’t pull away. Neither do you.

The two of you stay silent for a beat, the tension hanging in the air like a storm ready to break. You wonder if she feels it too—the quiet, invisible thread between you. Her hand, resting casually on the edge of the bench, inches closer to yours. You’re acutely aware of the soft sound of her breath, the way her shoulder brushes yours when she shifts.

For a moment, it feels like the world has narrowed down to just the two of you, and everything else—the lair, the mission—fades into the background. It’s just Lena, and you, and the air between you that’s thick with unspoken words.

And then you realize—you’ve been holding your breath.

You blink, coming out of your dream-like state, and press the comm in your ear. "Director, we're about to lose daylight soon." You glance at the sky, watching the soft pink hues spread across the horizon. "Should we move?"

“No, stay put. Supergirl’s following Lillian’s car as we speak. She might be approaching the lair.”

“Copy that.” You bite your lip, still feeling the weight of the moment, and glance back at Lena. “You’re okay? With... all of this? The whole situation with your mom?”

“Oh, yeah. I know what the Luthors are capable of,” she says with a quiet resolve. Her eyes stay fixed on the lair, but you catch the flicker of something deeper behind her words. “I’m just glad we’re here to help.”

You nod, agreeing with her sentiment, but there's something unspoken hanging in the air between you two.

“The sun’s setting soon,” you say, fidgeting with the small flashlight in your hand. “I have this, but I don’t think we can use it without giving away our position.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Lena replies, her voice light, trying to brush off the tension. “I’m not scared of the dark. Unless… you are.”

You raise an eyebrow, giving her a playful side-eye. “Please. I’m an agent of a secret organization. There are very few things I’m scared of.”

Lena leans in, her gaze intense yet teasing, and her lips curl into a mischievous smile. “Oh? Do tell.” she whispers, as if the question is more of an invitation than anything else.

Her proximity makes your heart skip a beat. The warm air between you feels electric, charged with an unspoken challenge. For a moment, you forget about the mission, your mind drifting away, caught in the rhythm of her words, the softness of her breath.

You almost want to tell her that you are scared—scared of this, right here. Scared of how close you’ve gotten, of how something so small—a glance, a smile, a shared silence—feels like it’s pulling you in, deeper and deeper. Scared of where it might lead, or worse, scared that it might not lead anywhere at all.

The words hang in your throat, heavy and unspoken.

Instead, you shrug, your smile a little too soft as you watch her, feeling the warmth in your chest. “You know, there are just some things even secret agents can’t prepare for. Like... how distracting a pretty face can be.”

Lena studies you, her gaze softening as she leans in just a little, her eyes flicking between your lips and your eyes. She’s so close now, and the air between you is thick with something unspoken, charged with a tension that feels almost electric. Your heart races and everything else fades away.

Then, just as you think she’s about to close the gap, her lips brush against yours—the softest, most fleeting contact. It sends a jolt through you, a rush of warmth that leaves you breathless, like time itself has stilled for a heartbeat.

But before you can even fully process it, Supergirl’s voice crackles through the comm, “Guys, she took a detour. I think you’re in the wrong place.”

The sudden interruption shatters the moment, and you both pull back quickly, your breath shaky, your pulse still thrumming in your ears. Lena’s gaze flits away from you, disappointment settling heavily in the air, though neither of you says a word.

“What should we do?” you ask into the comm, trying to steady your voice.

“I'll follow through. We have more agents here. You two head back to the DEO. We’ll see you soon.”

You glance back at Lena, a flicker of disappointment in your eyes. “Back to business as usual, then?”

Lena meets your gaze, her expression soft and sincere, but there’s a wistful edge to her voice. “I hope not.”

The flirtation between you two, once subtle, quickly intensifies. The soft touches, the lingering glances, evolve into something raw—unspoken, but palpable. It feels magnetic, inevitable, like you're helplessly swept into something you can’t escape. You can't not flirt back, can't not lean into the charged moments between you.

There’s something heady in the way she looks at you, in the tension you both refuse to acknowledge. It’s like standing on the edge of something deeper, something that makes your heart race and your thoughts scatter. You can’t name it, but it’s undeniable, humming in the silence. The air around you crackles, thick with something everyone else seems to notice, too.

And that’s why you keep ending up in situations like this. Over and over, like you’re addicted to the chaos of it all. To the way she pulls you into these intoxicating, strange moments. And now, you're left wondering if it’s the situation you crave—or just her.

Whatever it is, you need more of it.

[pumpkinsy0]

since its thanksgiving, im just gonna offer the headcanon idea i know we're all thinking about today: hcs for extended family visiting the curtis' house for the first time and they're very passive aggressive doing that nice but mean southern thing and Pony (having moved to NY in my mind and being the progressive king that he is 💗) is tweaking out a little but is trying to keep his composure so his brothers (and the part of the gang that's celebrating with them) can get to know the family without interruption and be able to somehow be closer to their parents in a way?? Idk but that's my kings logic, but then... they say smth about Curly or him and curly and/or the gang being there and Pony goes OFF. Like no one has ever seen him get so mad and get so VERBAL about it 😭 I feel like once the extended family leaves everyone is like THANK GOD and Pony was so confused because he thought they were chilling but in REALITY they were just as mad as him but bit their tongues because they wanted PONY to be able to feel more connected to their parents through their extended family ANDD perhaps the reason some of the extended family said smth about curly is because OUR KING was telling them off privately or smth! Is this ask too long and detailed to be considered a hc request? (Also if it wasn't clear, adult papercut because I loooove them)

i love thanksgiving beef man, sometimes its funny asf😭😭

but omg u r so real for having pony move to nyc cause i was always thinking the same lowkey,,,,yes its self projection to have him live there but i have other reasons guys i swear i do!!!!

BUT YEA!! hcs woo!!!!!

•ive always believed that mr and mrs curtis kinda ran away FROM their families and went no contact around the time mrs curtis was pregnant w darry, darrys always been aware of it but it never bothered him much!! but he knows soda and ponys always had some sort of curiosity about em, thing is their parents never told them y they went no contact, so when that side if the family reached out they were like “what the hell, sure”

•and for extra drama lets say this side of the family r socs, i like drama what can i say, BUT POINT IS, none of em rlly know shit about the other, but the gang SWEARS to b on their best behavior for the sanity of each other

•skipping to them actually BEING there, i will tell u that while tensions were TOTALLY there, there was a sliver of hope. they were friendly at first (mostly to the curtis bros) and kinda dismissive of the gang asking if they were gonna day the WHOLE day, but they werent “outright disrespectful” so they sucked it up

•yes btw, that was a red flag for like EVERYONE, but like u said, theyre all going through this bs for the sake of everyone else, if one person loses it, they all will

•this isnt to say that the gang is 100% biting their tongues tho!!! they arent taking it from anyone, they just dont do as much as they normally would, they share looks and annoyed sighs too, that whole friendly thing from early is just deteriorating

•ANYWAYS that family is talking shit about everything, its literally EVERYTHING, their house, their clothes, the food, they knitpick EVERYTHING, the only person theyre showing any semblance of respect towards is pony!!! they r absolutely taking shots at darry and soda, calling them irresponsible to raise pony the way they did, and then they say “bless ur hearts”???? oh yea everyone is SICCCKKKK of them😭😭

•nobody rlly has a problem w them hyping up pony, they will take all the shots if that just means pony is respected , thats their little brother right there!!!! so when the family is just questioning pony about living in nyc and his life there, theyre genuinely interested, but ponys not warming up to em, he can feel them pity him a little bit and he hatessss pity

•especially bc their pity is coming from their judgement of his family!!! they feel bad for him for being raised in such a “poor enviorment”

•BUT BACK TO CURLY!!! when they hear about curly being ponys roommate, u already knowwww they got something to say about him, pony didnt even mention them being together, they just had that vibe about pony (LMAOOOO), and turns out talking about curly was just ponys tipping point cause now u ESPECIALLY know nothing about that part of his life!! shut up!!!

•pony blowing up at them would b such a quick thing, he doesnt stay there and argue, he says what he has to say (which idk what he says exactly but ik it was insane, pony has such a way w words) and just walks out to get fresh air

•when he finally calms down and gets himself together tho, iiii dont think hes going back home immediately, he feels so bad for ruining the dinner and doesnt have the strength to go back inside in fear of everyone looking at him and seeing darry and soda all sulky

•eventually after walking for a solid 30 mins he got rlly cole and decided to go back inside and he just sucked it up and went back inside, however!!!! he noticed the family left and his heart dropped but when he walked in he noticed that everyone else was still eating and talking!!happier even!!! yahoo!!!!!

•pony tried apologizing and all the gang said was “who cares, they sucked”, darry DID scold pony telling him not to do that again but pony could tell darrys heart wasnt in it, hes so glad they left😭😭

•pony never told curly about this btw, he finds out about this months later bc of two and curly neverrrr lets pony forget about it and hypes him up

[morningsharksworld]

Baby, I'm Yours

A/N: Ive been listening to this song for a while due to a hazard edit that I found on tik tok and it just has been eating at my brain. AND I also wanted to test out on writing out his accent just for one fic though.

Summary: Hazard has something on his mind that he wants to talk to you about

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

The sky was a bruised shade of purple, the last remnants of twilight fading into night as you and Hazard strolled along the quiet path. The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of wildflowers and damp earth, but the warmth of his presence beside you made the chill feel distant. It had been his idea to escape the bustle of the world for a while, though he’d been unusually shy about suggesting it.

“It’s nice out here” you said, breaking the comfortable silence. Your eyes drifted to the horizon, where stars began to prick through the deepening dark. “I’m glad you dragged me away tonight.”

He chuckled softly, the sound low and slightly nervous. “Didn’t take much draggin’. Yer always up for a bit of peace and quiet—not that I blame ye.”

You glanced at him, catching the faint blush dusting his cheeks. It was rare to see Hazard flustered, the man who seemed to thrive on chaos and sharp wit suddenly subdued.

“What’s on your mind?” you asked gently, stopping to face him. The moonlight caught the edges of his features, softening the usually sharp lines of his expression. His gaze flickered away, then back to yours, as if he were steeling himself for something.

“It’s... well, it’s nothin’, really” he started, but the quirk of your eyebrow stopped him in his tracks. “Alright, alright. It’s somethin.”

You waited patiently, your silence urging him to continue.

“I’ve been thinkin’ about how to say this” he began, his brogue thickening slightly with his nerves. “But words... they’re not exactly my strong suit.” He rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. “Figured if I didn’t say somethin’ tonight, I’d never work up the courage.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the earnestness in his tone. “Hazard” you said softly, stepping closer. “Whatever it is, you can tell me. You know that, right?”

He nodded, letting out a deep breath. “Aye, I know. And that’s part of the problem. Ye make it too easy, bein’ yourself. Yer kind, patient, funny... and ye’ve got this way of makin’ me feel like I’m somethin’ more than just... me.”

You felt a lump rise in your throat, your chest tightening at his words. He looked down at his hands, fidgeting with a loose thread on his jacket as if it could distract him from the vulnerability of the moment.

“The truth is” he continued, his voice quieter now, “I’ve fallen for ye. Harder than I thought possible. And I’ve tried to keep it to myself because I didn’t want to muck up what we’ve got. But every time I see ye, every time ye smile, it’s like...” He paused, his voice catching slightly. “It’s like I’m yours already, whether ye want me or no.”

You blinked, his confession settling over you like a wave. For a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath, the only sound the faint rustling of leaves in the breeze. Then, without thinking, you reached out and took his hand in yours, lacing your fingers together.

“Hazard…” you said, your voice steady despite the emotions swirling inside you. “Do you even know how long I’ve been waiting for you to say that?”

His head snapped up, his eyes wide with surprise. “Ye’re... yer no’ just sayin’ that, are ye?”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Not even a little. I’ve felt the same way for so long, but I didn’t want to push you or risk scaring you off. You’re ... you’re important to me, Hazard. More than I can put into words.”

A grin spread across his face, the kind that made his eyes crinkle at the corners. He squeezed your hand, pulling you closer until there was barely any space between you. “Well, I’ll be…” he murmured, his voice tinged with awe. “Guess I’ve got to thank the stars for ye tonight.” You smiled, your free hand brushing a stray strand of hair from his face.

His gaze softened, and for a moment, he looked at you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered. Then, with a tenderness that belied his usual bravado, he leaned in and kissed you. It was a kiss that spoke of everything he’d been too afraid to say, of every moment he’d spent wishing for this one.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “I’m yours” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “Now and always.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but they were tears of joy, of relief, of finally finding something you hadn’t even realized you’d been searching for.

“Baby, I’m yours” you whispered back, your voice steady despite the tears threatening to fall.

The two of you stayed there under the starlit sky, wrapped in each other’s warmth, as the night seemed to stretch on forever. And for the first time, the world felt right—not because it was perfect, but because you were together.

[mysteryinkkat234]

Trafalgar Law Rockstar Headcannons

This was an idea I got from this post, and my friends and I came up with some fun ideas. And then I thought of maybe writing one-shots or a full chaptered story of a Rockstar Law x Reader.

Let me know what you think and if you have any requests for one shots, One Piece related, my DMs are open

DISCLAIMER: these headcannons have talks of drug addiction, Doflamingo and his bullshit, and NSFW topics such as bondage and dirty talks

Hope you enjoy!

* grew up with his parents wanting him to become a doctor, instead he started a rock band, called the Heart Pirates with Shachi (Bassist), Penguin (Keyboard and 2nd Guitarist), and Bepo (Percussion) and a bunch of other people

* He’s both a guitarist and singer, playing mostly Hard Rock, Prog Rock, and Alternative Metal like Blue Öyster Cult, Queens of the Stone Age, Slipknot

* They mostly play at underground stages, bars, Law tries to keep it indie and not spread too quickly

* They do start getting fans, but also majority of them, mainly feminine individuals, who really like Law. I mean how can you not? Tattoos, tired eyes, nice voice, chill attitude.

* Law’s family is actually pretty stacked, his mom and dad being both Doctors and his sister Cami studying to be one. He doesn’t really tell people about his family though

* As he was going to medical school he sadly fell into a bad crowd, following them to a group called the Donquixote Family. He soon was kicked out of school. He couldn’t tell his parents about it either, being homeless for a while.

* He soon meets Rosinante, a DEA agent and Doflamingo’s, the head honcho of the Donquixote Family, little brother. He lets Law live with him in his apartment, helping him with rehabilitation.

* Sadly, he’s unable to get him out of Doflamingo’s debt, Doflamingo asks for Law to work for him once in a while, playing music and entertaining guests at his local clubs and casinos, all while doing doing his Heart Pirates band, now with an ‘anonymous’ sponsor

* How Law meets the reader was a classic meet-cute. A record store, the reader was organizing records and bumps into Law. They bond for a bit, banter.

~~~

“You know I play guitar, in a band.”

(Sarcastic)”Seems that every guy that comes to me says they’re in a band.”

“Hehe, yeah sorry, did they invite you to their shows?”

“No, they say ‘we’re still looking a place to let us play’ and then forget about me.”

“Trust me when u say I have a band that has done a bunch of shows, lots of underground places if you’re interested.”

“Mayhaps~”

~~~

* and that’s how Law and reader met, and soon fell in love. The Heart Pirates get introduced to them, they rag on Law for being a softie but the reader likes them, they’re good to her.

* As Law and the reader are dating, she lets me sit in the green room, watching on a TV of the show, cheering for their boyfriend without the sound of other people gooning for him.

* Does Rosinante know about Law’s partner? Yeah but also he’s out of the house most the time, they’ve never bumped into each other before. Law tells his partner that they’re roommates and that’s all.

~~~

NSFW Headcannons:

* He doesn’t tell his fans that he has a partner, stuff like crazy fans trying to fight them in real life

* He’s heard some wild stuff at concerts yelled out by people. And in the back of his head, he’s reminded of his partner… and all the naughty stuff he’s going to do when he goes home

* Law likes the dirty talk, and the praise. “Every time I’m on stage, I think of fucking you in the green room, and no one would know.” “You’re the only fan I’ll fuck, and I’ll fuck you good. You have all of me, and I have all of you.”

* He likes fingering their partner while wearing rings, he likes to see them shiver from temperature play

* And bondage, loves tying his partner to the post of his bed, or partner tying HIM to the bed.

* Sex has never left the apartment, there have been some heavy make-outs in the green room and some perverted touches but he soon kept it cute and sweet in public in front of his friends.

* Shachi and Penguin will recommend the wackiest kinks to then get beat by Law.

[gloomybadger4life]

I see it like this.

Zuko kills Ozai on the day of the black sun. He ropes Azula into covering it up. He gets crowned.

Azula never goes to the boiling rock and Zuko never leaves.

Mai becomes Zuko's bethroed.

Ty lee kinda just chills with Azula.

The day of the comet comes.

Zuko doesn't invade the EK. Not out of goodness but out of the knowledge that the fire nation is on the brink of bankruptcy.

When the avatar doesn't find the firelord waiting for him the gaang head over to caldera to find Ozai. Zuko welcomes them as if they were diplomats.

He announces the end of the war and frames it in a way that is all about welcoming back the heroes and honoring those fallen in the war.

The gaang don't like it one bit. But they at least have some semblance of peace.

They stay at the palace and it all feels uneasy. Zuko pretends not to know any of them outside of an official capacity.

Zuko asks Aang as the avatar to deliver the news to the earth kingdom. He releases some prisoners of war that were captured. (Invasion still failed)

Zuko starts getting more and more paranoid as time goes by and while the nation is stable, the war effort has already set them on a path to ruin. Dissidents start popping up, not even wanting to restart the war, just wanting to oust Zuko.

He blackmails Azula into eliminating the dissenters under the threat of framing her for Ozai's death.

Azula goes to Ty lee.

Azula: you must hate me now, I deserve it just listen to me. He's got dirt on me, and that means dirt on you too. You've seen my brother. He barely speaks to Mai anymore.

Ty lee: I don't... What?

Azula: You know what he did right?

Ty Lee: Yeah...

Azula: He's gonna pin it on me the minute I finish my last mission. After I brought him home. And because you've been my closest ally and friend, he's gonna have it out for you too. Best case you end up in the bolling rock.

Ty lee: Zula...

Azula: Ty Ty. Please. For what we once were, you have to run, I have a boat ready for you.

Ty lee: why are you talking like you're dead already?

Azula: Because I am. And because It's my fault you're in danger. I roped you into this. You were happy. You were safe. I took that away.

Ty lee: And you think I love you so little that I'd let you die just like that? Lala, you're coming with me, so is Mai.

Azula: Are you sure? You realize how much riskier it makes things?

Ty lee: I'm not losing you.

Azula: very well.

They share a heartfelt hug and Azula apologizes.

After talking Mai into it, they go to harbor city. Azula stages a failed assasination of her last target and starts a huge fire at the bay. They commandeer a small cruiser and fudge the books at the docks to make it look like it sank in the fire.

Zuko realizes Azula's last job went awry. Mai is nowhere to be seen. The three dangerous ladies are branded traitors and framed for Ozai's murder.

With the propaganda machine in full swing, Zuko plans his next move. Ba sing se might revolt.

The dangerous ladies are now in the earth kingdom, and with no idea where to go?

Ty lee: now what?

Azula: in the original plan, you arrived at kyoshi island and asked for asylum, claiming I forced you to do all the war stuff by threatening your family. But that won't work now.

Mai: so now what? I doubt Omashu would welcome us.

Azula takes a small dagger and cuts off her hair, leaving it shoulder length. She is then about to give her face a scar but ty lee stops her.

Ty lee: why?

Azula: people might believe me to be a refugee if I have scars. It will also reduce the resemblance, you know. To the multiple wanted posters.

Mai: your impromptu haircut does a lot already.

Ty lee: it looks really nice.

Mai: ugh, get a room.

Azula: She always says that, why?

Ty lee kisses Azula.

Azula: wait. You like me that way?

Ty lee: you didn't realize?

Azula: it was illegal back home. Ah fuck. All this time. Me too Ty Ty me too.

They kiss again.

Mai makes a gagging sound.

They end up at an inn, and their blood runs cold when they notice a certain blind earthbender...

@chaosmagetwin @krista-kritical

AU Idea

I think Azula's dream was basically that her brother would become Firelord, Mai would become his wife, Azula would be Princess, and maybe Ty Lee is somewhere around too. At the same time, even with Zuko as Firelord, Azula likes to imagine coexisting with him as an equal and be treated as such.

What if the dog caught the car? What if Azula helped Zuko become Firelord and it ended very poorly for her? What if it turned out that he not only refused to treat her as an equal but also was extremely suspicious of her and constantly thought she was trying to usurp the throne? What if she ended up exiled or a fugitive because of it?

[baekuras]

instead of going to chat gpt to sort presentation notes and stuff nor bothering my friends i have taken to doing the true programmers solution

talk to bath duck

[ikemenomegas]

@animeomegas This post crossed my dash and I immediately thought of you with cockblock sasuke headcanons haha. Itachi might be exasperated at worst and desperately horny at best during that time, thinking he understands and Sasuke will too when he's older. But I love the idea of Itachi who is sorely mistaken, has pups by the time Sasuke is courting, and is just like this. Suddenly extremely concerned for Sasuke's modesty, "are they making you wear that?" when Sasuke wears something revealing, tries to be nice because he knows Sasuke wouldn't accept someone he's not already serious about, but Itachi's eye is sort of twitching and his alpha has their second child in their arms and are staring at him like "are you okay?" when they have a second alone at a family dinner. He realizes Sasuke might be having extramarital sex and accidentally squeezes a chicken too hard when he's carrying it around in the garden and gets screamed at by a hen - not like Itachi didn't also, but Itachi was already practically married by then! and is his stupid cute little brother being safe? is it possible to be sneaky about taking him to the doctor to get checked out?

Itachi might be a little insufferable during Sasuke's teenage emo/goth rebellion too. Like he learns how to make clothes specifically because he knows Sasuke will wear anything Itachi gets him and they're all cute bulky sweaters or comfortable traditional robes. Sasuke mostly wears them around his house or when he's visiting Itachi, but it lets Itachi delude himself into some semblance of imagining Sasuke dresses like that most of the time instead of being bare chest out in the streets.

Ooh! and maybe part of Sasuke's courting story is running into his future alpha on the way back to his family's home from Itachi's house and he gets flustered and embarrassed at how obviously adorable they find him in sweater paws instead of his current off-both-shoulders, no juban, open-down-to-the-navel uniform.

[moeblob]

having a stressful time at work but i think it's very important to point out the other day i was asking a guy for help and he's like aight gotcha and then we go to this freezer room and he, from somewhere beyond a mound of boxes, just goes "you like anime right?"

sir this is the FIRST TIME we have spoken how did you clock that.

(he claims i had the vibes of someone who liked it then i was like oh like the woman in the deli wearing a jujutsu- and before i can finish the series name he says "no not her, she just liked the shirt. she's never watched anime". . . oh. i see. you have already had this debate with her then. okay.)

EDIT UPDATE:

So I got clocked AGAIN as a weeb by a coworker because I saw part of her outfit and was like "oh, Attack on Titan?" and while I then said I've never watched it she said that's fair then "do you know anything about vtubers?" and I just. Are you kidding me. I mean yeah but like. Why is your safe question with me "do you know about vtubers".

WHAT AURA DO I BRING TO A GROCERY STORE TO BE CALLED OUT LIKE THIS?

[becca-e-barnes]

any chance you could write stepdad!steve catching you sneak back in from a party?

Pleaseeeeee 🤤 This is a lil short one but I might give it a second part

"What time do you call this?" You knew you were fucked when the taxi dropped you home and the light in your kitchen illuminated the drive way. Your mum made a habit of turning it off every night and you were only getting away with this if everyone was asleep.

It was well past the time your mum and stepdad usually went to bed. Hell, it was well past the time you usually went to bed yourself. You didn't often stay up to 2:37am and you absolutely never stayed out that late. Despite the fact you're in your 20's, your new stepdad had set the rule that you were to be home by 1am every night. No exceptions. Asshole.

It usually wasn't hard to follow his rules. No boys in your bedroom. Don't stay out late. Fill up the fuel you use in the car. Nothing really out of the ordinary. But then again, he kept telling you that you weren't the rule breaking type anyway.

"Sorry, I lost track of time." You did your best to avoid looking at your stepfather while you lied through your teeth. You'd known damn well what time it was and you'd had every intention of staying out until the lights in the club came back on. You just didn't think you'd get caught.

"Mhm." Steve's hum almost sounded convincing, pausing while he folded his arms, his navy blue pyjama top straining around his biceps. "You expect me to believe that? You're a bright girl, sweetheart. I know you can tell the time."

Damn your own body for betraying you like this. His praise makes your tummy flutter and you know it's so damn wrong.

"I know you want to be a good girl, don't you?" He pauses again, waiting for your response and he seems satisfied when you nod. "Always so well behaved for me. You know what? I'll let you pick your own punishment. Just this once." His eyes are trained on your face, watching for any sign of discomfort at the way things are progressing.

"Option 1. I confiscate your car keys." Fair enough but that would be really inconvenient. "Option 2. I confiscate your phone." Oh no, absolutely not. "Option 3. I confiscate that shitty little vibrator you keep in the drawer beside your bed."

How does he even know you have that? It's mortifying enough that he feels able to punish you but this is a step further than you were expecting.

"No need to be shy about it, honey. I get it. You've got needs. Nothing to be embarrassed about. And if it makes you feel better, I could show you how a real man should touch you. You'll forget that little plastic thing even exists."

Fuck, that's an offer you could only ever have dreamed of. In fact, it's painfully close to what you imagine while you're frantically rolling the vibrator in question over your own clit.

"If you'd rather lose your car keys or your phone, feel free. Choice is yours." Steve sounds awfully nonchalant for someone who's just made a proposal like that but there's no chance you're turning down his offer.

"Option 3." Your voice is barely a squeak and you almost think you've made the wrong decision when Steve raises an eyebrow.

"Good girl. Go get it."

[myreia]

✦ D I S C I P L E O F T H E H A N D

Alchemy for potions. Blacksmithing for repairs. Leatherworking and weaving for mending. She is not an artisan, but the basic skills she has picked up over the years have served her well. Self-sufficiency has always been at the forefront of her mind, and she is pleased that she can keep herself afloat when needed. Besides, crafting is relaxing. A hobby or two here and there is good for her mind. —level 90 compendium