#‘i should tie you down and force you to wear a dress’ the fact that you think ur capable of that is hilarious

[dreamertrilogys]

MY AUNT’S SOOOO OBSESSED W ME IT’S NOT EVEN FUNNY

[chirpy-poppy]

How would the ghouls react to PC wearing their dorm uniform ? I've thought about this too much for my own good. No pressure

Thanks for the prompt! I'm guessing you mean the uniforms they get at the opening ceremony and not just the colored pin/tie (although that gave me an idea, stay tuned). Hope you like this!

Jin - How to make this man’s heart swell. Jin has a territorial personality. Seeing you in the blue that makes you look like one of his (subjects) people makes him feel secure in his relationship with you. He’d stand a little taller than usual and suddenly gets the need to take a walk with you for “exercise” and totally not to parade you around, flaunting that you’re his.

Tohma - “You look very nice.” He’d make it sound like a platitude, but he truly means it. He already considers you as one of the people in his circle, especially since the two of you spend hours in the vault taking care of Frostheim’s internal affairs together, but seeing you dress the part would truly seal the deal. He’s not one to help others if there’s nothing in it for him, but he’d feel inclined to take care of you when you’re dressed like that. 

Kaito - “Are you finally joining Frostheim? With me?” Tears stream and snot drips down his face. Even after you tell him it is just for a mission, he’d relish in the fact that you are matching. He’d try to sneak away with you during the mission to go on a “date” in your “couple’s outfit.” 

Lucas - “What is the occasion?” … “It suits you very well, PC. You should wear this more often.” Your fancy Frostheim skirt is more cumbersome than your uniform one, so he watches out for you even more. Think opening doors, getting utensils for you at the cafeteria, and carrying your bags. 

Alan - Would feel uncomfortable. “You don’t belong here. It’s dangerous.” He’d send you home to get changed. As he’s fixing up a car later that day though, he’d let his mind imagine how it’ll be like if he were a normal guy and you can sit together in class, side by side, and walk back to the dorms together. 

Leo - Starts streaming as soon as he catches sight of you. He’d come up to you talking like you did all this just for him. Showers you with sweet compliments for his viewers. When he’s done though, he’d mock you. “Why are you dressed like me? Are you in love with me or something? Ew, please don’t. I don’t want to be involved with an NPC.” As if he didn’t just force you to be involved with him for a 20 minute stream.

Sho - “Senpai? Is there a mission?”He wouldn’t compliment you outright, but he might compliment the clothes. Might hyper-fixate on one article so he’d have an excuse to keep looking at you. “That jacket looks really aerodynamic.” “It’d probably let Bonnie go even faster. Want to test it out?” If it is for a mission, he’d actually stand up to Leo if the vice-captain opposes him being partnered with you.

Haru - Might actually cry. He’s probably the one who got you the uniform, and he takes it as a green light to get you to help with some of the tasks around Jabberwock. Of course, he’d customize the uniform so it’ll accentuate your… features. Haru keeps his eyes narrow so you can’t tell which way his pupils are pointing.

Towa - Very pleased that you match. During the day, he’d drag you everywhere with him because you are twinning, and twins do everything together. He’d even drag you across the mud because Haru cannot complain about him getting your actual uniform dirty now. At night, he tells you how adorable you are. He’d note how the clothes don’t make the person since he’s very strong but you still look so weak in the jumpsuit.

Ren - Confusion. Why would you voluntarily wear something like that? He makes a disgusted face at you and yeets away as quickly as he can because this probably means you’re meeting up with Haru, and Ren is not about to entertain “that clown.” However, the next time he has to put on his own jumpsuit, he’d feel less bad about it and his own situation. But then he’d stand in front of the mirror in his green get-up and wonder why he doesn’t look nearly as cute as you in it.

Taiga - Might mistake you for a Sinostra student. He’d have an even harder time trying to remember who you are since he’s not used to you wearing those clothes. When he finally comes around his memories, he’d pull you into his lap to play poker as usual. He doesn’t have much of an eye for fashion anyway, so he wouldn’t act much differently than usual.

Romeo - “Huh. You finally don’t look like you walked out of the dumpster.” Takes you to his office to take a good look at your outfit. Will give a few critiques (obviously), but also will help you fix up your fit. By the end of the day, you are ready for the Met Gala. He might even pamper you a little bit, doing a face mask with you and dabbing some serum onto your face. You’d feel like a million dollar purse poodle, but you’re his million dollar purse poodle, and he’d personally make sure you look the part.

Ritsu - Boy’s elated. Takes it as a sign you are committing to Sinostra and bringing them the Laurel Crown as his business partner. The fact that you look stunning in it is but the fine print of this whole thing. However, if you’ve ever met Ritsu, you’d know he pays close attention to fine print.

Subaru - Tea party! He’d quickly put on his own robes if he isn’t in them already and bring you to Hotarubi’s terrace with some fancy daifuku and tea. “You look very nice, PC.” He finds eye contact a little easier that day. In fact, he keeps his eyes on you the whole time. Despite his social awkwardness, the beauty and grace you extruded while in those robes spoke to his kabuki culture and had him enraptured.

Haku - He was probably the one who tricked you into putting on the garment with the Fox Robe. “Now we look like a couple,” he’d say with a wink. He’d do this around the time of the spring festival so now you ‘have’ to go visit it together otherwise it’ll be such a waste of a good opportunity. Walks under cherry blossom trees so he can pick petals out of your hair for you. Oh no! There’s too many people here. Better hold hands so you don’t get lost!

Zenji - “You look like an absolute doll, my dear!” Walks/floats in circles around you like a satellite, taking in your new look from all angles. “You look like the first flower that blooms after a harsh winter! You breathe life and hope into the hopeless!” Non-stop poetic(?) compliments accompanied by a biwa. Expect to have your ears burning by the end of the day.

Ed - “This reminds me of the gothic era. I must say though, you manage to pull it off better than most of the children I saw back in the days.” There’s a video playing on his tablet, but he’s watching you instead as you go about cleaning his room. Might actually remember to warn you about mysterious liquids in his room so you don’t soil your clothes. 

Rui - You were supposed to look ghoulish and scary in your Obscuary get up, but Rui still finds you super cute. Then again, he finds you cute even when you’re just breathing. Takes a million pictures together. “PC, this just calls for a romantic walk through a graveyard. They say fear makes the heart grow closer!” He’d insist you stay over for the full Obscuary experience. You’d wake up to a full spread of breakfast and another Obscuary outfit hand tailored by yours truly.

Lyca - “You’re wearing more fur than usual. And more purple. Hey! Are you joining our house?” Lil pup would be so excited but try to hide it beneath his scowl. Since he didn’t get placed into the same house as Subaru, he really wants a friend as a dorm mate. Since you are human, he’d also be happy that Obscuary seems less like a place for creatures.

Yuri - “Don’t think you can become the assistant of the great Yuri Isami just because you are dressed like that.” Despite what he says, Yuri would take you around Mortkranken, showing you all the specimens and teaching you how to use the machines. “You better come back here tomorrow immediately after class so you can put some of what you learned to good use. You’d better not waste my efforts!” Oh, and you better wear that outfit again too. You’re supposed to wear lab attire in the lab, after all.

Jiro - “Take it off.” What he meant is for you to put on the patient gown so he can conduct his examination. The patient gown is basically your Mortkranken uniform any other day since that’s all you’re in whenever you go there.

[shakethediseeas]

haihaii can i request alien stage x crossdresser male reader please? 🫶🏻

ALIEN STAGE WITH A CROSSDRESSER, feminine M! READER

MEssy! half bullets half bs i did more of a feminine male reader instead of a corssdresser if you don't like it just tell me ill re do it ;;;;

alien stage x reader

Whispers are common when you arrive. It's the fact that you're so pretty that leaves everyone speechless. You've always had some sort of feminine charm that made you the top hit, and you live for it.

MIZI

She was a bit surprised when she heard your deep voice when she first introduced herself. Thinking you were a pretty girl, she runs to you with compliments about your hair and outfit, and you look at her with big eyes before saying:

"oh.. thank you..!"

It's a huge shock, but somehow, that made you more beautiful to her, and so she'd double down on the compliment. Even better!! As she says.

She instantly marks you as her bestfriend. She loves making crafts with you or letting you choose how to style her hair when she couldn't decide.

"Hair up or down? what do you think? Maybe we could match!"

As you get older, your options of clothes become unlimited, so you get to perform or take photos in your beautiful dresses or skirts, and Mizi has stars in her eyes whenever you show her your new look.

10/10 she loves your style very much.

No one really judged you for it either because you were so charming, but if anyone ever picked a fight with you, she'd defend you 100%!

She loves it when you paint each other's nails or match outfits. She brags about it to everyone with a huge smile on her face.

Is super comfortable with you. She's not super touchy, but hand-holding and tackles are common.

10/10

TILL

He's flustered while saying hello (he's nervous around pretty girls), and you reply with a sup. He yells and goes, "WHAT THE HELL!?" Angry at himself for blushing over a boy.

He treats you normally like he does with Ivan, but sometimes, when you laugh or show him your new dress, he gets extremely embarrassed about how nice you look.

He'll never admit that you look pretty, though, he'll say something dumb like put some pants on or smt (he's a stupid kid).

You cling to him a lot to get an angry reaction from him, you find it cute.

When you're older you always invite him to photoshoots just to tease him or brag about your new outfits and he pretends to be angry but secretly your charms have kind of grown on him so he just huffs and looks the other way while you poke him.

7/10 I think he's got internalized homophobia so he's like trying to deny any sort of attraction towards you.

You force him to paint your nails or make him tie your pretty little shoes and he gets all mad.

Sometimes, RARELY he'll let you add some makeup on his face.

If anyone ever said anything to you, which was common because you hung around with a problematic boy, he might beat the hell out of them, and you tease him about it.

"aww!! you love me don't you! my hero! mwah!"

"get away from me, freak!!"

LUKA

When Hyuna introduced you two, he stared at you entranced, drooling, as always, before nodding and looking away. You swore you heard him mumble 'pretty' but he denied it constantly.

You always ask him what to wear or how to style your hair, and he just looks at you "..." before falling to his side. So you pick the dress that was on the side he fell on.

You held him around like a teddy bear, laughing at a joke you said or you'd talk about curling your hair more.

Suddenly, one day, he got the nerve to provoke you, and so you punched him and walked away, never talking to him again.

That is, until you are older. His personality isn't what you remember, and now he talks about how pretty you've always been and suggests clothes you should wear.

He always finds a way to arrange hang outs with you and he'd put lipstick on you, do your hair and pick your clothes and it pissed you off.

5/10 its a 50/50, sometimes you enjoy hanging out with him and other times times it feels like he's treating you like a dress up doll.

if he doesn't care for you, he'd poke fun of you for dressing like female but if he does care he'll tell you you're the prettiest boy around.

he wont ever let you paint his face unless you catch him while he's sleeping.

sometimes its a 8/10 because you like getting an actual reaction out of it with doing something he doesn't like.

IVAN

He observes you from afar, trying to figure out how to talk to you. Fortunately, Mizi introduced you two, and he greeted you with a smile.

"ah.. hi!" with a head tilt and a smile you wave at him, playing with the hem of your skirt.

He doesn't seem fazed at all by your appearance, in fact, it makes you more appealing to him (similar to Mizi except he shows no shock)

He's kind of clingy. Whenever you and Mizi are having a girl talk, he shows up and tries to squeeze in, and you two just glare at him.

He LOVES when you ask him what you should wear, even if his choices are the worst you still pick them with a huge smile and nod whilst secretly you're withering on the inside.

He doesn't mind if you paint his face or nails; he then shows them off to Mizi in a smug way because you only paint his nails.

As you grow older, expect MANY features with him, many many. You're his favorite person to do photoshoots or interviews with because he gets to hang out with you, and you pick his outfit so you match.

8/10, -1 because he's with you all the time trying to understand clothes and its a headache.

Not afraid to hurt someone who will say something to you and hold a huge grudge.

over all, isn't really fazed with your style of clothes but he does tease you a tiny tiny bit unintentionally

is the easiest to convince if you want him to wear a dress or anything you own.

dont shit on me plsess im nuob

[hotchfiles]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ [CHOICELESS HOPE] ❞ — five. harmless.

pairing: hotch x bau!reader. summary: the moment leading up to the kiss, the drumroll, is as good as the kiss itself. it's certainly more innocent. it's completely harmless. or: fbi gala goes wrong. content warnings: canon divergent. emotional cheating (not on reader). angst. right person wrong time. no use of y/n. wet dream with lots of smut on this one btw. i will never proof read anything. word count: 2.3k

previously

    Hotch is at your door once more, perfectly dressed in his matching black suit and tie, dress shirt impeccably white. It’s tailor fitted to his body as he had recently started to do to all of his suits. You told him once before that it makes him look more mature, but the compliment came with lust in your eyes, that’s all he remembers now whenever he’s wearing them, even if both of you chose to ignore it at the time. 

    His cheeks flush bright pink when you open the door and his eyes glance down on you, dark blue dress–almost black. It hugs your upper body tight, your cleavage is more exposed than what he has seen in years. You gnaw lightly on your bottom lip, trying to contain a chuckle, a laugh. You couldn’t remember the last time you’ve seen him blush.

    He can feel his cheeks betraying him, but his worries are somewhere else entirely, focusing on trying to clean his mind so the rest of his body wouldn’t fail him too, quite the complicated feat as he was reminded of the dream he had the night before, how sweaty he had woken up because of you.

    The annoying squeaking of the bed should’ve been enough proof of the fact the sounds you two were making wouldn’t be concealed. It should be enough to get your senses back in line. It should be enough to remind you both where you were. In a hotel room, working on a case. 

    It wasn’t enough, not for Hotch, not when you surrendered so easily to his touch, not when your hair was glued to your forehead making you look like a goddess, one he was more than eager to adore. 

    He kissed some of your moans away, delighted to be the one causing them from how deep he was slamming his cock in your wet wet wet cunt. Wet for him. Clit throbbing under his thumb. Clenching around him enough to make him whimper in your ear. 

    His mind is too far gone, he doesn’t remember how it got to this point finally, but he’s too busy to care, his hands finally able to roam through your bare body with no inhibitions, griping hard on your flesh. There’s no place he would rather be, nothing else he would rather be doing. No one else he would rather have with him. 

    Chatter begins to fill the room, but he’s the only one to notice it, the female voices shifting his focus while yours was still on him, nails sinking down on his strong shoulders. 

    “At least you’re not married to him.” He knows this voice, last time he heard it was in video tapes, frames of happier times, Haley.

    His body stiffs, you move against him, legs wrapped around his waist, hands grasping his ass and forcing him into you. He moans but looks around the room, trying to understand what’s happening.

    Why is he hearing Haley’s voice? 

    “Still, right in front of me? Not a nice guy move.” And… Beth? 

    Beth. And Haley. Sitting on a couch? Observing you two fucking. 

    His head drops in your shoulder, realization running him over like a truck, “This is a fucking nightmare.”

    He’s hard when he wakes up, wet with his precum, dizzy and in need of release, he jerks himself off to thoughts of you, even if guilt shreds him apart, the sweat gluing his hair on his forehead as he imagines your lips and your throat struggling to take him are stronger. 

    His plans for the night don’t change even then, it’s why he’s at your door. 

    It wasn’t a date after all. You were merely his plus one because your formal invitation got mixed up due to your transfer. It wasn’t a date. Sure, you could easily go as any of the others’ plus one, and sure Beth was in town and should’ve been his companion for the night. 

    But it wasn’t a date. Even though the way your dress clanged to your body, the way he could smell your special occasions perfume and the smile you gave him made him wish it was. 

    “Guess we might get a bigger budget for the BAU.” You love when he’s flirty and you hate yourself for it, your heart skips a beat and you feel pathetic, the fact you’re not used to gala events and the heels you have on are way too new for your comfort makes it all that much worse. You take the hand he offers you either way, following him to his car. 

    Maybe you shouldn’t have let yourself be coerced into going, “well we better, I don’t usually do the whole begging for money thing.” Hotch laughs, and as always you’re reminded of how much you love that sound. How special it makes you feel to be the one able to genuinely make him laugh at the most innocuous of things. You grip hard into your bag as he opens the door for you, ever the gentleman. 

    You feel like flirting, the words dancing in your tongue, careful I might think this is a date. You don’t, too afraid of ruining it. 

    For a second you wonder if he’s still dating. Maybe he’s single. Maybe it’s finally your time. 

    But he keeps his hand far from your thigh in the car and his girlfriend’s name pops up in his phone while he’s setting maps up to help get you both at the damned gala. Everything is different and still the very same. You yearn for him and Hotch seemingly is always finding ways to run from what you could be. 

    The car ride after that is awfully awkward and it’s completely on you. He tries to spark conversation, and usually it wouldn’t be difficult to, you and Hotch always talked easily, it came naturally to the both of you. But you felt as if your voice was trapped, the silver necklace on your neck doing nothing but suffocate you. The side glances his eyes served you felt like burning holes in your skin. 

    Suddenly it’s 2005 and you’re a thirty something year old with a crush, feeling guilty for simply sharing a space with him. As if you would be divinely punished for your thoughts, your feelings, your light touch to his hand or the playful flirting. 

    You swallow it down, but the effort you’re making in trying to bury those feelings makes your replies to him come only in hums, nods of your head. Hotch gives up trying and decides some music is the ideal to get through the awkwardness, and it isn’t on purpose, really, it just so happens that his 90’s playlist was the last thing he heard. The strong feminine vocals you know well make you laugh. Loudly. 

    You’re still the one I run to, the one I belong to, the one I want for life

    “The one time the White Album would’ve saved lives and you’re listening to Shania Twain.” 

    “It’s a 90’s playlist, I didn’t handpick this, alright.” Tthe lyrics should amp up the awkwardness, make it all even more uncomfortable. But it doesn’t. Aaron’s laughing and you begin to sing along, as if the words didn’t mean anything, everything, to you and to him. 

    It makes the ride go from almost unbearable to fun, he sings with you to the best of his ability while still paying attention to the road and sooner than you both realize his phone buzzes in warning, you are at your destination. 

    “This is… Huge.” You’re in true awe as you leave the car, now weirdly comfortable to have your arm in his as you enter the venue, you recognize most of the people there, but it’s rare you see them in the same place at once. “And that’s not FBI.” You whisper, head pointing to a congressman.

    “You really don’t come to these a lot.” He whispers back right before shaking hands with said congressman, he doesn’t smile, but he is polite and introduces you. Luckily the chat doesn’t go for very long. “These events happen so we play nice. Then congress may just get us more budget instead of cutting it.” You roll your eyes at him, you know he doesn’t do politics so you’re not sure why he goes to these events. Still, you get champagne as a waitress passes by you and you sit at the BAU designed table where Rossi and Strauss already are.

    “I heard from your past superior that you don’t usually attend these, I’m glad agent Hotchner convinced you.” Strauss barely waits for you to get comfortable at the table, you don’t understand why she asked about it and your expression probably spoke for itself. “Seniority is important, show these politicians the years of FBI work, make them want to invest more in security, in the FBI and most importantly, in the BAU.” You nod slowly, taking your champagne in a mouthful and leaving it at the table, you notice none of the younger members have arrived and it hits you that they probably won’t come. 

    You look over for a waiter to get more champagne and see the table assigned to your past unit and remember your unit chief, the CNU chief, begging you to attend the last “FBI fund raiser” and how quickly you denied him because you didn’t want to risk seeing Hotch. Your cheeks burn.

    Aaron notices, of course he does, and puts his hand on your thigh and it’s comforting, warm, familiar. “What’s on your mind?” His voice is low, only you can hear, especially with Erin and Dave flirting on the other side of the table. “Champagne?” He asks again when you don’t respond, teasing your very light alcohol tolerance, you finally look up at him and realize how close you both actually are.

    His hand still on your thigh. His body lowered down as yours looked up. It feels impossible but he moved in closer, lips almost touching yours, breath mixing with yours. Hotch looks at your lips and you look into his eyes. “What are you doing?” Your voice is barely a whisper, is lucky that he hears it, but he definitely feels the warmth of you speaking along with the sweet scent of champagne.

    “Nothing. This is… Harmless. We are just… Talking.” He’s not a liar. But he is a lawyer at his core. He is good with technicalities. Technically you’re just talking. It’s certainly innocent if no lips are touching. 

    It could’ve been a minute or three hours but next thing you know there’s a slow song blasting through the speakers and Hotch is taking you by the hand, smiling sheepishly like a teenager. You find yourself another champagne, which you gulp down before the waiter can even leave your side.

    It’s all too easy, too familiar, his hands on your waist, your head laying on his chest as he leads. Exactly like the last time you two danced, he had been waiting for a slow song to be this close, no repercussions, no questions asked. This way he doesn’t have to pick. He doesn’t have to choose. 

    Of course by now you realize what he’s doing, the same pattern of behavior he did before, how he kept you close knowing he wouldn’t leave Haley. Except this time you couldn’t leave, you were demanded to be at the BAU. You take a deep breath and move your hands to his chest, separating you two and trying to put some sense into your thoughts, the sense that his cologne had drawn out of you. 

    Hotch tries to talk to you, ask you what’s wrong, but before he can do anything about it you’re headed back to the sitting area and without any manners you simply grab the first empty chair you find and place it around the CNU table, sitting together with your past unit so you wouldn’t deal with Aaron for the rest of the night.

    You have a fun rest of evening, talking, drinking maybe a tad much for a lightweight, getting teased by your ex coworkers about being a BAU hotshot and smiling at any congressperson who appeared at the table, talking about the good work the CNU put at the FBI. 

    The night only took a turn when Hotch came to tell you he was going home, “I see you’re having fun, a taxi might be better.” He sounds hurt but it’s still spiteful of him, you reply with a simple nod and hold in the tears you’ve been pretending you don’t want to let out for months already. 

    Lucky for you, Rossi watches the whole scene and takes your hand, making sure you don’t stumble on your own shoes–you’re very much drunk–as he leads you out of the venue and into his car. There, well, there you cry. You barely even noticed how Strauss was near the whole time or how she’s in the passenger seat. 

    Rossi is just glad he came driving, only one dose of scotch being his chosen drink for the whole night alongside some water and soda. If he wasn’t you would have to get a ride with someone else or a taxi home. 

    The way you were drunk and crying on the back of his car was annoying, sure, especially when he has a date he hopes to take home without the rest of the BAU knowing, but he saw you as his kid almost, he had to at least take you home.

    And even if you don’t remember. It isn’t the first time you drunkenly cry and speak of Hotch to him. And it isn’t like Hotch hasn’t done the same. 

    At this point it has happened so many times Dave might as well do something about it.

[moonstruckme]

hi lovely! can u write a one shot of poly!marauders with a tall fem reader? reader is the same height as rem but taller than James and sirius? thank you, it mean a lot bc there’s never really any tall readers!! <33

Thanks for requesting my love!

poly!marauders x tall!reader ♡ 840 words

“You look great,” James insists, sitting on the bed to pull his shoes on. 

Remus huffs, fiddling with his tie. “I look like a prick. I’m not made for posh clothes.” 

“Yes, you are,” you say, walking over and moving his hands aside to straighten his tie yourself. “James is right, you look handsome. Just because you’re not used to wearing a suit doesn’t mean it doesn’t look good on you.” You straighten his lapels, pressing a kiss to his frowny lips. 

“Yeah, it actually really suits you,” James says, laughing at his own joke. 

Remus scoffs, but his lips twitch. 

“Anyway, you can’t wear one of your sweaters to a formal event.” Sirius rolls his eyes, tying his own tie with practiced ease. “Then you’d really look like a prick, and horrifically out of place.” He looks at you, giving your dress an appreciative up-down. “Looking good, gorgeous…are those the shoes you’re wearing?” 

You glance down at your simple black ballet flats. “I was planning on it, why?” 

Sirius frowns, striding over to your side of the closet. “They’re not bad, but I thought you had some that would go better…here.” He squats, digging out a pair of heels. “Why don’t you wear these?” 

You feel your lips purse in distaste. You’d bought those shoes while riding the rush of a spontaneous and fleeting boldness. You haven’t worn them other than to try them on after you’d left the store. You’re taller than James and Sirius barefooted, but heels have you looking down upon all three of your boyfriends. You already feel too tall sometimes, and those shoes only make it worse, more noticeable; it feels like you’re taking up more than your fair share of space. 

“You want me towering over you all night?” you ask Sirius teasingly. “Jamie, why is this dinner so formal anyway?”

“Beats me.” He shrugs. “Guess they want to make it seem like a bigger deal. Or more official, or whatever.” 

“It is a big deal,” Remus says, sitting down next to James and toying with his curls. “You nearly won the world cup, love, that deserves a big event.” He looks at you. “And nobody minds you towering over us, darling. Wear the shoes if you like them.” 

You though you’d left that topic behind. “I don’t know,” you say, eyeing them in Sirius’ hand. “I don’t know if I feel like it.” 

Sirius holds them out to you. “Just try them on and see, yeah? I think they’ll really complement the dress.” 

You try not to sulk as you take them, sitting down on the bed to put them on. When you stand, you feel immediately awkward. It’s like you’re a lamppost rather than a girl. 

Sirius doesn’t seem to notice, whistling appreciatively. “Fuck, babe. Your legs look great in those.” 

You look down as though to fact-check him. Your dress doesn’t show much, but the heels do make the muscles in your calves more pronounced. Still, that’s hardly your priority. “I don’t know,” you say again. “I feel weird.” 

Remus tilts his head at you. “Why’s that?” 

You shrug, crossing your arms in front of you. “I just don’t know if I like being this tall,” you say. “People always stare at me when I wear heels.” 

“I’ll bet they do.” James raises his eyebrows at you. “You look killer, angel.” 

Your shoulders gravitate towards your ears, and you flush. 

“You do,” Remus affirms. “You should wear whatever makes you feel best, but if you’re not wearing heels because you get some extra attention…well, so what?” You blink, unused to such bluntness from him. “You’re lovely, and people are going to stare at you regardless. It’s up to you, of course, but I think you should lean into it.” 

Your heart constricts dramatically at the thought, but you force yourself to consider it, because honestly, Remus does sound sort of reasonable. It wouldn’t hurt you to begin working towards feeling more confident in heels, and a sit-down dinner seems like a decent place to start. 

Sirius offers you a hand, helping you up from the bed and guiding you over to the mirror. 

“You’re a fucking knockout, babe,” he says, and while his voice is light, there’s no hint of his usual teasing. “Wear what you want, but know that you look just as hot in heels as you always do.” 

You hesitate. “You don't mind that I’m so much taller than all of you in them?”

James makes a dismissive noise. “No complaints here,” he says. 

You look at Sirius, the shortest of the boys, but he only cocks an eyebrow at you. “I’m just getting closer and closer to tit level, sweetness.” You let out a shocked laugh, and he grins wolfishly. “Wear heels as tall as you like.” 

You roll your eyes. Lean into it, Remus had said. Okay. You can do that. 

“Alright, let’s go,” you say, heels clicking as you head for the door. “Move those little legs of yours, we’re going to be late.” 

[ac-19]

Wedding - T. Sawyer (Bravo 4)

summary: trent agrees to be your date at your brother's wedding.

When Trent agreed to be my date to my brother's wedding so that my family would stop hassling me about not bringing anyone, I didn't know what to think. Sure we had known each other for years since I worked with Naima and quickly became friends with Bravo team but we weren't all that close.

Trent just shrugged it off when I asked him why he agreed to come with me and he just said that he was available so why not? I had to admit I was kind of pleased with the whole situation because I always had a crush on him. My phone dinging made me snap out of my thoughts. I picked it up off the bathroom sink and saw a text from Trent.

"I'm here."

I took a deep breath as I fluffed up my hair and fixed my lipstick for the millionth time before I grabbed my clutch and stuffed my phone in it before I made my way outside. I quickly locked the door behind me and my breath hitched in my throat as I saw Trent standing by his car wearing a full black suit with his collar unbuttoned and his hair slicked back. I quickly composed myself and smiled at him as I walked down the steps of my townhouse. He lifted his head and smiled as his eyes landed on me.

"Wow. You look amazing."

I had changed seven times to be exact before I settled on this tight black dress that hit me right below the knee with a slit on the right side which came up to my mid-tight. I kept it basic for the rest of the outfit and makeup, pairing it with some nude strappy heels, curling my hair lightly and only doing some simple makeup. My brother's wedding was outside and since it was almost 100 degrees out today I didn't want to look like a raccoon by the end of the night.

"You look very handsome too."

Trent smiled.

"Only thing, I can't tie a tie for shit."

I chuckled.

"How? What about when you're in your dress blues?"

He just shrugged.

"I usually watch some youtube tutorials or get someone to help me."

I nodded.

"I'm pretty good at tying them if you got it."

"Yeah let me get it."

He quickly made his way back to the driver's side of the car and I took a deep breath trying to calm my nerves. He came back around holding a black tie and I smiled as I put my clutch down on the hood of his truck before I took the tie out of his hands.

Given the height difference I struggled a bit to put the tie around his neck and I couldn't help but blush as I stumbled over my own two feet and almost fell. He swiftly grabbed onto my arm to prevent my fall and I gave him a small smile.

"Thanks."

He nodded as he let go of me and I diverted my attention back to tying his tie. Once I was done with his tie I quickly stepped back and smiled.

"All good now."

He nodded.

"We should probably get on the road."

I nodded.

"Right. Wouldn't want to be late to my own brother's wedding."

Trent nodded as he turned around and opened the passenger door to his truck. I gave him a small smile as I stepped inside the truck. He grabbed my clutch which was still on the hood of his truck and handed it to me before he closed the door and made his way to the driver's seat. We had about a thirty minute drive to get to this remote beach that my brother was getting married on.

"So full disclosure, my dad was in the air force and my two brothers are in the marines so let's just say they are a little overprotective of me since I'm the youngest and the only daughter."

Trent nodded.

"No problem."

I nodded. The rest of the drive was pretty quiet except for the fact that we almost got lost twice but we finally pulled into the parking lot and I was so nervous right now. Trent parked the truck and quickly got out and came over to open my door. I took a deep breath and stepped out of the truck and put on a fake smile.

"You okay?"

I nodded.

"Yeah, I'm good."

"(Y/N) there you are."

My mother was the first one to notice me and I gave her a smile as she started walking our way. I quickly hugged my mom and let my hands back down to my side and quickly balled my hand up in my fist so no one would notice my nervous shake.

"And who is this?"

"Hum, mom this is Trent. Trent, this is my mom (Y/M/N).

"Nice to meet you ma'am."

She nodded.

"Nice to meet you too Trent. Why didn't you tell us he was coming?"

I nervously chuckled.

"Hum, his schedule is kind of unpredictable so I didn't know if he would make it. I hope (Y/B/N) doesn't mind."

"Oh of course not honey. The more the merrier right?"

I nodded.

"Let's head inside, it's going to start soon."

I nodded as my mom turned her back to me and started walking towards the seating section which was set up on the beach. I unballed my fist but my hand was still very much shaky. I looked back at Trent and he swiftly grabbed onto my hand as we made our way down to our seats.

"Look who I found."

Before I could say anything my mother stepped aside and I smiled at my brother, his very pregnant wife and my dad.

"Hi everybody."

"Who's this?"

Trent let go of my hand and shook hands with my dad.

"Trent Sawyer sir."

"Nice to meet you young man."

He then introduced himself to my brother and his wife before he took a seat beside me. My mom gave me a quick smile which meant that she liked Trent and I was able to relax a bit. I crossed my leg one over the other and settled into my seat as Trent put his on my exposed knee which made me almost lose all my composure.

His hand rested on my knee the entire ceremony and he put his hand on the small of my back as we made our way through the crowd at the reception to find our seat. We were seated with my parents and brother.

"So Trent, what do you do for work?"

"Hum..."

I looked over at him and could tell he was struggling to come up with an answer that wasn't going to out him as a special warfare operator.

"He's a field medic."

My brother gave me a confused look but I just completely ignored him.

"Oh so you work for a private company?"

"Yeah something like that."

My dad nodded and I looked over at my mom and pleaded with her through my eyes to change the subject.

"How's your work been honey?"

"Busy, you know how it is."

"Yeah I heard there was a kid that died in the parking lot of the hospital."

I gulped at my brother's comment. That kid in question was one of my patients and I turned my back away from him for a few minutes to enter his information in the system and he left the treatment room and shot himself in his truck. We tried to save him, but it was too late. I regret ever leaving that treatment room.

"Yeah."

I pulled my hands down in my lap and started fiddling with my ring on my right hand. Trent put his hand out and I looked over at him and gave him a smile as I slid my hand in his. I was really glad he was here.

"What happened, do you know?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat and Trent squeezed my hand.

"Anybody else thirsty? I'm gonna go grab some drinks."

"Good idea Trent, I'm gonna come with you."

My dad started taking drink orders and Trent leaned closer to me.

"I've got you."

I nodded.

"Thank you."

He nodded.

"Do you want anything?"

"Sex on the beach."

"What?"

I started laughing at the flustered look on Trent's face.

"It's a drink."

He chuckled.

"Oh."

"Actually I'm not gonna make you go up there with my dad and order me that. Just get me a glass of white wine. Anyone's fine."

He nodded as he got up and followed my dad to the bar.

"Ok sister. Spill it. Did you pay this guy to be your date?"

I turned my attention over to my brother and furrowed my eyebrows.

"The hell are you talking about?"

"You've never mentioned this guy once. Never even mentioned dating someone. Didn't want to tell us what he actually did for a living. What is he? A stripper you dressed up and paid to do your date tonight."

I scoffed.

"It's so hard for you to believe that he'd be here with me willingly isn't it?"

"I'm just trying to understand."

"You know what? I don't owe any of you guys an explanation. I'm going to get some fresh air."

I pushed myself up and headed out towards the balcony. I was really grateful that nobody else was out here right now.

"Honey, can we talk?"

"Not in the mood mom."

"Can I do the talking then?"

I looked over at my mom and nodded.

"Ignore your brother. He's just trying to get under your skin like he's always done since the day you were born. Now I have an idea why Trent couldn't tell us what he did for a living and I'm not gonna push because I hated when people did it to me regarding your father's career, all I'm gonna say is that he seems like a really good guy. I'm not sure if you two are just friends or if you're dating but I noticed the way you were nervous when you first got here and how he grabbed onto your hand to stop your shaking and how when your brother talked about the incident at the hospital he did it again and when you were uncomfortable he immediately changed the subject."

"We're not dating, we're just friends."

"Well all I'm saying is maybe there's something there."

I nodded.

"Thanks mom."

She nodded as she rubbed my back the way she always has done since I was a kid.

"Anytime honey. Whenever you're ready just come back inside and join us."

I nodded and my mom headed back inside. I was used to my brother being a jackass but to go as far as asking if Trent was a stripper I paid to be my date really pissed me off.

"Your mom told me you were out here but if you want to be alone I can leave."

I shook my head as I turned around to face Trent.

"No you can stay."

He nodded as he walked over to me and handed me my glass of wine.

"Everything okay?"

"Just my brother being a jackass."

Trent chuckled and I smiled.

"What?"

"I've just never heard you talk like that before."

I chuckled.

"Only when it comes to (Y/B/N)."

He nodded.

"I'm guessing you two aren't that close?"

"He's twelve years older than me. There wasn't much potential for us to be close."

Trent nodded as Amazed by Lonestar started playing. That was my parents' wedding song and it was one of my favourite songs.

"Do you want to dance?"

I smiled as I put my glass of wine down on the table beside me and put my hand down in Trent's and we walked to the dance floor. I wrapped my arms around his neck and he rested his hands on my waist.

"Thank you for coming with me today. You made today a lot easier."

He nodded.

"It's my pleasure."

"I told my mom we were just friends. By the way, so you don't have to keep pretending to be my boyfriend or something."

Trent nodded.

"Look (Y/N) the reason I agreed to be your date today was because I really like you. It was an opportunity to get close to you without all our friends around."

I smiled.

"You know you could have just asked me on a date."

He smiled.

"I guess I could have done that too."

I smiled.

Trent smiled and I laid my head on his shoulder as we continued to sway back and forth. As the song ended I felt Trent place a soft kiss on the top of my head and I couldn't help but smile as this wedding couldn't have gone any better.

"I would have said yes just so you know."

[moraxswhore]

Vanitas

2.1k words

bottom!ghost top!soap

Simon can't fucking take it anymore. All he can think about is the fact that the only thing separating him from Johnny's cock is nothing but a skirt and a full wedding reception. He'd been patient through the entire ceremony and through the first couple hours of the reception, but he can't wait any longer. If he doesn't get his hands under that fucking kilt soon, he's going to stab someone.

- or -

Soap prevents a crime by dicking down his boyfriend

He hated the military full dress uniform. It's itchy and tight, and it feels wrong in all the wrong places compared to his regular work fit, but he was explicitly told, by Price, that he can't wear full tactical gear to Soap’s sister’s wedding. For Johnny, and for Judith, he will put up with the formal wear for one evening, then he can pack it away for at least another six months to gather dust in a closet somewhere.

"You nearly ready, Si?" Ghost hears Johnny call from the bedroom, because he insisted 'it's easier to put a kilt on lying down', so Simon resigned himself to getting ready in the bathroom, attempting to look somewhat presentable. His tie is refusing to sit correctly no matter how much he tries to fix it, his medals situated obnoxiously on his chest feel like a gloat of his crimes, getting a medal for doing his job and being forced to show it off at formal events. He hates it,it puts the attention on him.

"I guess." He gives up on his tie, deciding that how it looks now is as good as it's going to get as he runs a hand through his curls in an pointless attempt to tame them, though after years under the mask, the curls have a mind of their own and refuse to listen to the wishes of any hair product. Simon just accepts defeat and walks out the bathroom.

Ghost knew that Soap was wearing a kilt to the wedding, it was a conversation they had when Simon asked what he should wear. He asked if Soap was also going to be wearing full dress only to be told:

"My mother would skin me alive if I showed up to that wedding in anything other than a MacTavish tartan kilt and I am more scared of my mum than I will ever be of Price."

So, Ghost should have been prepared to see Soap in a kilt for the first time, knowing that it was happening. Goddamn, was he wrong. Walking out of the bathroom and seeing Soap in a full kilt, white shirt, and black jacket hugging his frame just right, it does something to Ghost. There’s just enough leg visible, that Ghost feels like a Victorian man seeing a woman's ankles for the first time.

"Mum can't complain that I haven't cleaned up for Judy's wedding, can she?" Soap laughs as he bends over to fix his shoelaces, and that's when Simon sees it, more like what he doesn’t see. A lack of underwear under the kilt, the MacTavish family jewels in all their pride and glory, his cock hanging free and heavy. He could put his face right in there, eat Johnny out right now with no issue (other than Mama MacTavish murdering them for being late), but with such a delightful meal in front of him, Simon thinks he could die a happy man. "Steamin' Jesus Si, you look like a fucking wet dream in that suit, I'd devour you right now if it wouldn't make us late."

Soap walks over to him and quickly fixes his tie and the mess that is his uncooperative curls, and Simon has to fight the urge to drop to his knees right there in the room, instead forcing his feet to move, following Soap out the door and to the church.

This is going to be a long day.

Simon can't fucking take it anymore. All he can think about is the fact that the only thing separating him from Johnny's cock is nothing but a skirt and a full wedding reception. He'd been patient through the entire ceremony and through the first couple hours of the reception, but he can't wait any longer. If he doesn't get his hands under that fucking kilt soon, he's going to stab someone.

He watches from the side of the room as Johnny dances with his sister, the pair laughing as Judith steps on his feet; Ghost would probably find it just as funny if he wasn't bricked up and leaking all over his underwear. It reaches a point of, in Johnny's words, ‘too horny to think anything other than gay’, that he has to do something about it. The solution? Ghost strides over to where Johnny and his sister are dancing and barks out at him to follow.

And Johnny, the ever loyal soldier, follows without question, passing his sister off to dance with their father before striding after Simon, trailing behind him through the corridors of the church  to the now-empty chapel, the rest of the wedding guests in the banquet room for the reception. 

Johnny is barely in the room before Simon has the door closed and the Scot pressed against the mahogany wood. He sinks to his knees, forcing his way under the kilt and he's met with the thick musk of Johnny's sweat. Moaning as he noses at Soap’s balls, Simon licks at the seam between his thigh and crotch, the salty ambrosia melting on his tongue as he explores every crevice he can reach, Soap’s hand on his head trying to guide him to his cock.

"Please, Simon." Johnny's whines only spur Ghost on, licking and sucking on any and all exposed skin his mouth can find, painting Soap’s thighs in an array of purple bruises. The heavy weight of Soap’s cock against his face, leaking precum down his cheeks, has him so lost in desperation that he finally takes the cock head in his mouth, moaning whorishly at the salty desire dripping onto his tongue.

"Should've done this this morning, maybe you wouldn't have been such a moody brat then," Johnny says as he lifts the kilt just enough to run his fingers through the unruly curls of Simon’s hair, grabbing a handful tightly to control him. "Such a cock hungry slut, you couldn't even wait until the reception was over, can't go a few hours without being filled like a whore."

Moans and whines echo off the walls as Soap bullies Ghost’s throat with his cock, the rough pace making his eyes water as the tears threaten to spill, spurred on by the delightfully degrading words being spat at him. He can't help whining in displeasure as he's pulled off of Soap’s cock, guided to stand by the hand still tightly holding his hair, and roughly dragged to the nearest pew.

"You want to act like a whore, then I'll treat you like one."

Soap pushes him down onto a pew, his back against the hard wood of the seat as Johnny makes quick work of removing his trousers and underwear leaving him bare from the waist down. He forces his legs open, hooking one leg over the back of the pew he’s lying on, the other over the pew in front and the cold air against his cunt makes him realise just how wet he is. "Look at you, dripping for it, so desperate for my cock."

The painful pleasure of Soap’s hand hitting his cock knocks the air from his lungs, the wood of the pews digging into his legs as he tries to force them closed, it earns him a displeased tut from Johnny and another slap to his already sensitive cock. 

"Take what you're given like the good boy I know you can be." Soaps fingers easily slide into his slick hole, with Simon’s symphony of moans echoing off the hallowed walls. The sunlight streams in through the stained glass windows, painting Ghost's body in a heavenly array of colour. "Look at you, a work of art laid beneath me, God watching as I defile you in His house."

Ghost can feel the tears forming in his eyes as Soap’s fingers hit all the right spots inside him, the impending orgasm building.

"Do you think He's jealous? Jealous that I have death falling apart in my fingers, moaning my name, worshipping me in His house." Johnny leans in close to whisper in his ear, Simon’s whimpers and whines entangling themselves in the praise. Every word and sound enunciated by the wet sound of Soap's fingers in Simon’s slick hole, his thumb stroking his cock. "Go on, Mo ghràdh, show him how you sing your praises."

His orgasm rushes through him, Soap's fingers never stopping their assault on his cock and the overstimulation has his legs shaking against the pews. 

"Too much, please." Words tumble out his mouth as Simon struggles to contain his noises. The oversensitivity on his cock after his orgasm never relents, even after Johnny removes his fingers from him. Ghost watches through half lidded eyes as Johnny licks his fingers clean from Simon's slick. "Johnny, I can't, no more."

"You'll take what you're given, doll." Soap lifts up his kilt to reveal his hard, leaking cock, the underside of the kilt stained with precum. Simon watches as his lover gathers slick from his used hole, using it to ease the glide on his cock. He can't control the stuttering of his hips as Soap rubs his leaking tip against Simon's cock, pleas and whines escaping his mouth. "I haven't even had my fill yet, didn't realise I was dating such a selfish little slut."

"No, please, want you." He knows he sounds pathetic, his voice barely above a whine, a whimper, but he can't find it in him to care, not when the thought of Soap's cock inside him, his lover roughly using him as he pleases, sings so loudly in his ears he can't begin to care about how loud his moans are. "Use me, please."

"Oh don't you worry, doll, I'll treat you right." Simon's eyes flutter shut at the slight pressure of Johnny's cock entering his hole, the full feeling hitting just right as his lover's hips meet his, giving him no time to adjust before Johnny sets a rough pace. The sound of skin on skin echoes off the walls, accompanied beautifully by the tenor of moans leaving the pair’s lips. "Should keep you bred all the time, nice and full with my seed, my perfect little cumdump for me to use. Always nice and wet for me, bend you over any surface and have my way with you, leave you dripping with my cum."

"Yes, please, yes-" The air knocks out his lungs as Soap grabs his thighs, folding him in half, his knees against his chest, Soap's cock hitting deeper than before, his mind blanking from the pleasure as he feels Soap's fingers enter his mouth in an attempt to silence him.

"Don't want the entire church to hear how much of a whore you are, wouldn't want them walking in, seeing you begging for my cock." Soap's pace never relents, the pain of his lovers hips slamming against his, and the burn in his thighs adding to the cacophony of blinding pleasure building in his core. "A big, strong lieutenant whimpering and whining for his subordinate's cock, brought to tears by having a cock in his hole, and what a pretty hole it is for me to use. For only me to use."

All he can do is make muffled moans as the weight of Soap's fingers in his mouth, pushing on his tongue. The degrading praise of Johnny's words flood his brain as he whines pathetically around the fingers in his mouth, his second orgasm rushing through him, his slick squirting out of him soaking the underside of Soap’s kilt, the relentless pace never slowing, the overstimulation shivering through his body.

"Look at you, my own fountain of youth, only I know how to make you flow." Soap's pace stutters as he buries himself so his hips are flush with Simons as he cums deep inside, the tip of his cock grinding against Simons cervix. "Gonna fill you up, breed you nice and full."

Soap begins to pull out, Ghost instinctively wraps his legs around his lover's waist to stop him, wanting him to stay inside, but his mind comes back to the present as he remembers where they are. He tries looking around for something to wipe himself with, not wanting to go through the rest of the reception with cum dripping out of him.

"You got a tissue?" Soap chuckles at him before throwing his underwear and suit trousers at him.

"No, you want to act like a whore, then you can deal with the consequences." He watches in disbelief as Soap fixes the kilt to make it look presentable, and not like he's just fucked the daylights out of his boyfriend. "And maybe if you're good, I'll treat you when we get home."

Simon accepts that he's going to have to leave the mess that's currently leaking from his hole and begrudgingly pulls on his underwear and dress trousers. If his treat is even half as good as what just happened, then it'll be worth ruining his underwear.

That kilt is going to be the death of him.

[maccreadysbaby]

A Hundred Ways to Become a Wayne

batfamily + oc insert

tw: anxiety? again?

wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!

want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!

BENTLEYS JUST HAVING A ROUGH TIME OKAY GIVE HIM A BREAK

part four

❝ USELESS, WORTHLESS, AND EVERYTHING IN BETWEEN ❞

MONDAY — AUGUST 3 — 7:12AM

BENTLEY WOKE UP WHEN A COMFORTABLY WARM HAND LANDED ON HIS FOREHEAD AND STAYED THERE FOR A FEW MOMENTS. He let out a soft, pleased hum in his half asleep state, shifting around beneath Bruce’s soft blankets.

“How are you feeling, bud?” Bruce’s voice came. Bentley felt his hand travel up and over his head, pushing his hair out of his eyes like he had the night before.

Bentley peeled his eyes open and glanced around the dimly lit room. The blackout curtains were pulled almost completely shut, blocking the blinding sun from reaching inside. The bathroom light was on, but the door was only slightly ajar, and Bruce was dressed in his typical nice suit get-up, perched on the edge of the mattress next to him. He retracted his hand when Bentley opened his eyes.

Bentley yawned and pushed himself upright, blinking in an attempt to wake himself up. How was he feeling? Right now, tired, and also kind of buzzy. It took him a moment to remember why, but then the previous night’s events came flooding back, and he winced from embarrassment. But at least his stomach didn’t hurt anymore.

“Good, I think,” He muttered, rubbing his eyes with his fists. Good despite the anxiety that he was really about to go to school was starting to set back in.

“I’m glad. I let you sleep in as long as I could, but you should probably start getting ready for school soon,” He said gently, with a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth just like it had been the night before. “Or you can go back to sleep if you really don’t want to go.”

Going back to sleep did sound nice. The clock on Bruce’s bedside table read 7:12am, which was a little earlier than Bentley was used to getting up. But he needed to go to school. He wanted to go to school. Plus, chickening out the morning of the first day would make him look even more pitiful than seeking Bruce out for a hug and reassurances the night before.

He took a deep breath and blew it out. “I want to go.”

Bruce smiled. “Alright. If you change your mind, just let me know.”

Bentley nodded and pulled the covers off. 

“We usually leave around eight, so that gives you a little less than an hour. Make sure you tell someone if you need something or start feeling bad again, okay?”

Bentley nodded, sliding off of Bruce’s bed onto the manicured rug. He hadn’t even noticed it last night when he was neck deep in his own panic.

He spoke to Bruce for a moment more before he made his way up the stairs and back to his room. The sun in the entryway nearly blinded him, and his room wasn’t any better with all the curtains open. He passed Damian on the stairs, probably making for the dining room in his nicely pressed uniform. He said nothing.

Bentley closed his bedroom door and stared at the folded Gotham Academy uniform on his dresser for a solid thirty seconds, maybe more, before he caved and took it into the bathroom with him. 

He showered quickly, and put himself in the uniform. It really reminded him of the clothes his father used to put him in. It wasn’t the first time he’d worn the dress pants, button up, blazer, and tie combination. And while the navy-blue blazer had the Gotham Academy symbol on the shoulder, and the tie was a deep maroon to match, it still felt strange to wear clothes like that again. He’d been wearing old hand-me-downs, hoodies and t-shirts and sweats and pajamas for what seemed like years, and forcing himself into stiff dress attire felt… well. Just weird. It reminded him of his father. Maybe his growing anxiousness was adding to his weird feelings, too.

The fact that he couldn’t tie the tie was stressing him out just like it used to, as well. He remembered his father showing him how to do it a couple of times, but he could never remember. Over the years his father’s begrudged attempts to show him morphed into annoyance, and annoyance into anger, and anger into slaps and closet time, all over a tie. And he still couldn’t freaking do it.

So he abandoned that and left it on the bathroom counter, because his anxiety was acting up under his skin again. Instead he took to making his hair the least bit presentable. Steph had cut it for him over the summer, into a style similar to Tim’s (but better because it’s not so flat, she’d said.) and Dick had shown him how to make it look good in the mornings. Not that he remembered it all, exactly, but when he was done it looked pretty similar to last time Dick had done it. (Bentley usually just brushed his hair so it wasn’t sticking up and moved on — but he guessed he needed to look more presentable to meet all of the people at school.)

He tried the tie again. No matter how many times he knotted it up and undid it again, he couldn’t make it work like his father did. Surely Damian could tie his own tie. Everyone in the house could probably tie a tie and Bentley just couldn’t remember.

His father’s voice made it's first debut in his mind since the first of the year: I showed you yesterday, Bentley. What is wrong with you?

He huffed in annoyance and undid the strip of maroon fabric, idling weirdly in front of the mirror as he tried again. Over, around, through the hole and… what? Through the hole and over again? No. Maybe he was putting it through too early. He unraveled it and started over.

Are you serious, Bentley? I could tie a tie when I was four. How worthless are you?

Tying a tie was such a simple task. He wasn’t doing some kind of endless math equation, or mixing chemicals in a chemistry class. How was he going to be a good student if he couldn’t do something as simple as tie a tie? He jerked on it and unraveled it again, the buzzing inside of him growing along with the unsteadiness of his hands the longer he fiddled with the thing.

You’re asking me this again? Useless child.

His eyes started stinging just like they had that morning after his father slapped him. He tried to force it away. He was not going to cry over a tie. He wasn’t. How stupid was that? 

You can’t? You can’t do it? How old are you, three? No? 

Bentley nearly leaped out of his skin when someone knocked on his bedroom door. He swallowed down the lump in his throat and scrubbed at his eyes to make them look normal, tossing his tie on the counter. “Yeah?”

“Hey kiddo. Can I come in?”

He nearly sighed in relief when it was Dick’s voice that came through the door. Bruce and Damian hadn’t gone on patrol the night before because of school, but Bentley was sure Dick, Jason, Tim, and the others did. He probably made his way back to the Manor afterwards. Bentley would’ve already been in Bruce’s room by then, but he was glad he was there, nonetheless.

“Yeah,” He repeated. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his pants to hide that they were shaking a little. Dick swung the door open and walked inside, closing it behind him. His ocean blue eyes bounced around before they landed on Bentley in the threshold of the bathroom.

“Morning! Are you excited? Because I’m excited, and I’m not even the one going,” He muttered as he drew closer to the bathroom. He was in a hoodie and sweats, and his hair was a mess, like he’d just woken up. Bentley shrank away a little when he got close, and Dick’s expression changed in an instant, and so did his tone. “What’s wrong?”

Bentley stared down at the floor, but Dick crouched down so he couldn’t not look at him. He scanned his face with pity swirling in his eyes. “Have you been crying?”

“No,” Bentley said, a bit too quickly. Technically he really hadn’t been crying. Sure, he had been about a millisecond away from having the tears fall down his face, but they hadn’t, therefore he really didn’t cry.

Dick didn’t seem entirely convinced. He brought a hand up and rested it on Bentley’s left arm, rubbing gently with his thumb like he always did. “What’s going on, kiddo? Talk to me.”

Bentley sucked in a breath. He was not going to cry over a tie. He. Was. Not.

He tried to fight the lump that forced it's way back into his throat as the words useless, worthless, bounced around in his head. What is wrong with you? His father had yelled so many times about so many things. What was wrong with him? Why was he about to cry again? He’d been doing a good job not being an emotional wreck since Bruce got custody of him, and here he was, throwing all that progress out the window because of a tie. A tie.

“I couldn’t…” He vaguely gestured back toward where the tie was laying on the counter. His face flushed pink when he realized this was a really dumb thing to be upset about. He took in a shaky breath and tried to blink the tears away, but they ended up falling the first time he closed his eyes. “I tried, but, I… my dad, he… I don’t…”

“Hey, take it easy, kiddo. You’re okay,” Dick reassured, rubbing his arm with his whole hand now, in bigger movements. Bentley wiped his eyes on his sleeve. Dick opened his mouth to speak but Bentley continued before he could.

“I’m sorry,” He whispered, hiding his face behind his arm. “I don’t know… what’s wrong with me.”

“Nothings wrong with you,” Dick was quick to shut that down, and his tone got a little more serious. “Bruce told me about last night. Are you feeling like that again?”

Bentley shook his head, but he didn’t move his arm. “No. I just… my dad… got really mad when I couldn’t…” He trailed off. He figured that was a good enough explanation.

Dick sighed softly and stood up, gently pulling Bentley forward into a warm embrace.

“Whatever your dad did, whatever your dad said… none of that stands anymore. He was wrong,” Dick explained quietly, brushing his fingers through the hair on the back of the child’s head. (Like Bentley hadn’t been told that about five hundred times since he officially moved in. Because he had, but for some reason, he could never push his fathers words completely away.)

Bentley said nothing, but instead pressed his face farther into Dick’s hoodie in an attempt to make his eyes stop watering like they were. He felt so pathetic.

He sniffled, bringing his arms up and around Dick’s torso. “He taught me how, but I never remembered… and then he…”

Dick rubbed his back gently. “I’ve got you, kiddo. He isn’t here anymore.”

Then why did he feel like this?

“…Why do the things he said still hurt when he’s not here?” He whispered, choking on a quiet sob.

It was a serious question. His dad wasn’t there anymore, so why did he still get so scared? Why did he still feel like a failure, like all those words his father had called him? Actually, even thinking about his father made him hurt, and his father wasn’t even around to do anything.

“Oh, kiddo…” Dick muttered. He peeled Bentley off of his torso and picked him up instead, and Bentley didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around his neck and hide his face in his hoodie. “Stuff like that takes a while to heal, just like injuries. Sometimes longer.”

Bentley stayed quiet for a few beats, forcing himself to stop crying over something so stupid.

“All of us are having to unlearn things from our pasts. Most of us are still working on it,” Dick explained, rubbing his back just like he had the first night he met him. “You’re not alone, Bentley.”

He sniffled again. “I know.”

A few quiet moments passed. “I’m proud of you for going to B when you didn’t feel good last night.”

Bentley furrowed his brow. “Why?”

“Well…” Dick started, rubbing his back a bit. “You’re like Tim in the way you don’t want to be a burden. Sometimes it’s hard to go to someone else for help. And I’m just proud of you.”

Those words made something warm sprout in his chest. His father certainly never told him he was proud of him. Damian had told him he was impressed once, when he was in the hospital last year, but he was pretty out of it then. Hearing it from Dick was… you know. Different.

Part of Bentley just wanted to stay home with him. Maybe cry about his dad some more. 

“You still wanting to go to school today? I think Alfred is serving breakfast any minute,” Dick stated, as if he could read Bentley’s mind. 

He sucked in a deep breath. “I think so.”

“Alright. But first, let me get this tie situated for you,”

Dick set Bentley back down on his feet and grabbed the tie off of the bathroom counter. “Want me to show you?”

Bentley wiped the wetness off of his face with his sleeve and nodded slightly. Dick shook the tie out and then wrapped it around Bentley’s neck, tucking it beneath the collar of his shirt.

“First you cross them, big side under the small side,” He explained, focusing on the fabric between his fingers. “Then you wrap the big side around the small side.”

Bentley watched as Dick did exactly what he was narrating.

“Up and through the loop around your neck, then back down through the other little loop you made,” He explained lightly, tugging on the tie and wiggling it up to Bentley’s collar. “Ta-da!”

It looked perfect. He didn’t expect any less from Dick Grayson.

Bentley inhaled deeply and cleared his throat, trying to remove any evidence of his small bout of crying. “Can you… not tell Bruce? About this? I don’t want him to be worried about me. I really don’t feel like I did last night.”

Dick scanned him inquisitively. “If you really are okay, my lips are sealed. But if you get really anxious again you need to tell someone.”

Bentley nodded. “I will.”

Dick smiled his signature smile. “Okay. Well, if you’re ready, I can practically taste the bacon in the air.”

Bentley snickered lightly, and Dick ruffled his hair. Then he realized he messed it up and started brushing it back down with his hands, which made Bentley chuckle again.

Dick really did know how to make everything better, so effortlessly. Bentley wondered if he became good at comforting people because he was comforted a lot in the past, or because he… wasn’t comforted at all.

That was a thought for another day.

—

dedicated to @sassenashsworld 💚

—

tag list! (If you want me to remove or add you, ask in comments!)

@fleur-alise @sarcopterygiian @cademygod

[ignitxr]

-------------------------- ABOUT. HISTORY. RISE. HOUSE YUE HEADCANONS.

hello, I am excited to introduce everyone to my lady, yue wanning.

she is twenty-five years old, the eldest child of house yue. they oppose house yi's ruling and patiently await the opportunity to rise against the royal family. wanning joined the yuyan archery force young and rose through the ranks with time and diligence. she's the captain of the yuyan archers now and wishes to train the force until it is powerful enough to slay a dragon.

(note the dragon mentioned here does not refer to an actual dragon - she has love and respect for those intelligent beings and means only to take down the yi family.)

at home or during social gatherings, wanning dresses to accentuate her youth and beauty. she is fond of flowers and has a captivating dance that she's only shown to a few. she is also skilled with head massages, which she uses on her family members and any archers in need. the fact she is a captain does not make her forget her feminine side, and she considers herself as much a loving daughter and sister as she is a leader.

on the battlefield, she shows her enemies no mercy. due to her smaller structure, wanning is most efficient at ranged combat. she uses her agility as well as flexibility to her advantage when forced into close-range brawls and excels at stealth missions. as a captain, she is good at assessing the situation and strategizing with her archers. she cares deeply about those around her and would not hesitate to risk herself for any of her people.

a secret: wanning's health is not the best. she does not allow it to show much in public but secretly requires herbal brews daily. winters are particularly difficult for her, and she must wear many layers to retain heat. she is strict with her siblings and urges them to excel at firebending or archery for this reason - if one day she must leave the world early, the yue family must be protected.

plot ideas

a moment of leisure: a friend to spend time with. perhaps a girl who also loves flowers and shopping...has a taste for fine tea and jewelry. they can discuss fabrics, the latest fashion, and perhaps even the most beautiful people around the nation. [0/1, f preferred]

a debt owed: your character owes her a favor that must be repaid. [0/1, f/m]

a lapse in judgment: wanning falls in love with someone she should not. for max drama, I would like this to be someone from the royal family. maybe they both didn't recognize each other somehow? it could be deliberate seduction?? I am open to discussion! [0/1, m/f doesn't matter, yi house]

a friendship based on lies: you wish to be wanning's friend, not for her, but for her house's support. [0/1]

a tie that cannot be severed: wanning's childhood friend. zhao or ma house probably. [0/1]

an innocent past: our characters were friends as children, in secret. the adults did not know and therefore could not separate them. now, they are grown and must walk down different paths. [0/1, must support yi house]

I am open and ready for any political plots. we can form alliances, talk about marriage, and discuss betrayals more.

[doctorobrt]

It Won't Be Long

Short story in which you and your new fiancé, William, head down to the local pub to see new bands performing!

It's the swinging sixties and as rock and roll moves aside to introduce this new genre of pop music, you and William decide to enjoy it with others joining the music scene, but it doesn't go as smoothly as you'd hoped for...

SFW!

Feminine reader. Mentions of smoking, William and Reader. Set in a Pub, alcohol mentioned, slight harassment from a drunk man, mentions of blood, fighting and arguing.

"We need to be leavin' in a minute love." William emphasised as he adjusted his tie. Delicately patting some English Leather Cologne onto his wrists and neck before turning on his heel to gaze at you.

"Yes I know I've just got to..." You fiddled about with your purse, digging through countless bits of rubbish you had stuffed in there prior. "Hmm, now where on earth did I put you?"

"What you lookin' for so frantically?" He chuckled, though his brows furrowed as you began searching all over the bedroom floor.

"It's my special perfume, I can't find it anywhere!" You frowned and delved under the bed, scrambling about through boxes and bags.

It wasn't any cheap spray, which is why you panicked - in fact it was a gift from William a few months back for Valentine's Day. Not that the smell was all that great. In all honesty you'd do anything in your power not to wear it, however you felt the need tonight as you were spending quality time together.

Settling himself onto the mattress, he reached across to the bedside table and picked up a small, detailed, pink bottle. He held it in front of his face for a while, examining the detailed engravings. Turning the dainty glass around, he squeezed the pump to take a sniff but instead the spray shot right into his eyes.

He dropped the bottle and flinched rather dramatically, clasping his hands over his face, trying to wipe the fragrance from his now extremely bloodshot, watering eyes.

Hearing the commotion from behind, you crawled from beneath the bed to check what on earth had happened, only to discover your oh so loved perfume smashed on the wooden floor beside you.

"William! What the bloody hell are you doing you twit?" You slapped his arm and rushed to your dressing table to touch up on your makeup, grabbing your powder puff and lightly applying a thin layer of blush. "Right lets go then, no time for cleaning your mess up!"

"No sympathy for your wounded soldier then I guess... I'm basically blinded by your cosmetics and you cant spare a minute to appreciate me!" He sighed as he emerged out of the bathroom, patting his face down with a towel.

"Oh bloody grow up you child, were going to be late because of you."

William chortled at your snarky attitude and made his way downstairs to put his gloves and jacket on, calling you as he did so.

"Grab your coat love, it's too cold without one." William insisted you wore one whenever you left the house past noon, couldn't let you catch a cold.

The walk to the town was calm and refreshing, occasional soft breezes brushed through your hair as leaves tumbled to the floor and crunched beneath your feet. You linked arms with your lover and joyfully skipped ahead, dragging him along with you.

"We're almost there Will come ooon...!" You whined and tugged at his sleeve "You're such a faff!'

Minutes later, you arrived in town - albeit out of breath. The old sign hanging above the entrance to the pub barely made out; 'COME AND SEE, NEW musicians performing, BIG new hits! For 16 and over.'

"Fab! I hope there aren't many people inside so soon.. I should find us a place to sit right away." Grinning as you gave William commands "Fetch us some drinks too..!"

Swiftly making your way over to a table with two chairs, you placed your purse to the side as you slipped out of the long coat you were forced to put on, hanging it off of the chair.

The record player in the corner of the bustling pub played soft tunes; 'That'll be the day' by Buddy Holly, 'Great balls of fire' and your personal favourite 'Rock and Roll Music' by Chuck Berry. You hummed softly to yourself as you awaited William's return.

"What's up with all of this old stuff?" He chuckled as he placed your half pint of Cola onto the placemat.

"Hm.. We got the day right didn't we?" You mumbled skeptically "The sign said so, perhaps its later on.."

"Don't stress love, if not we should have to come back another day. Unless it's your excuse to get pissed each day of the week?" He laughed to himself, earning a deathly stare and a cross of the arms from you, although it didn't take long for a suppressed cackle to escape your pursed lips.

"They seem to be setting the stage up over there." You pointed out

"Gear. Shouldn't be too long now. See? You're such a fanny."

The club was teeming with curious locals after a good half hour while the bands took their time to prepare backstage. The tables became scarce in no time which left groups of friends and families to stand in whatever space was lacking bodies.

"I'm glad we got here when we did, imagine trying to find a place to sit now!" You marvelled, peering around in the very enviable piece of furniture you were perched on. "Are you even listening to me you bloody old man?”

William hummed and took a cigarette out to light it under his cupped hand. The lighter defined the rough callouses enveloping his fingers and singed hair on the back of his hands. The job he worked was hard labour at the welders in town, it suited him quite well, however. Knowing what creations he would sketch down onto paper it wouldn't surprise you if he'd ever attempt to

"This is a drag. When the bloody hell are these bands coming out?" Slowly puffing a thick cloud of smoke to the side.

"I'm sure they'll be out soon, be patient." Sipping at the last of your drink, you pushed it to the side and took a cigarette out of your bag. "Mind lighting it?"

Despite being sat down on the short antique chair, he still managed to tower above you... significantly. His thick, brunette hair fell onto his forehead as he leant over. Tension rose as you made intense eye contact. Seated in a room full of bundling boisterous locals yet they all seemed to disappear when the two of you edged closer toward each other.

"Evening folks!"

Groans arose from the crowd as the terrible microphone let out a high-pitched squeal at an almighty volume.

"Sorry about that...!" The older, plump man on the stage apologised in a very thick southern accent as he fumbled around to move the mic further away from the speakers. "Thank you all for coming tonight, we're all very excited to see what this new musical genre or what not is all about aren't we? Its going to take a bit of work to surpass Elvis but let's give it a knock why don't we!"

William twisted back around to roll his piercing grey eyes at you

"Bloody old bugger." He grinned facetiously, taking a drag of the cigarette before blunting it into the ash tray.

The grandfather clocks hands creaked rather loudly as the band fumbled onto the stage, awkwardly avoiding eye contact with the sea of expectant guests before them. No cheering broke out as the pub waited in eager anticipation, they were patiently waiting for an introduction from the group of mop haired boys on stage.

Soon enough the pub was alive and deafening again as the group wearing very German, leather outfits continued to play through their set list.

It was a different kind of sound to the rock and roll of Elvis and Chuck Berry you were familiar with, but it was rather pleasant regardless of that. The bass and drums coincided harmoniously as the rhythm and lead guitar chimed pleasant upbeat melodies alongside each other. All members had a crack at singing on their first song, their voices occasionally melodic but for the most parts rambunctious and powerful.

The restless crowd of screaming teenage girls and women swarmed to the front of the hall trying to get their hands on the unfortunately positioned guitarists - they seemed to be considerably unperturbed, however.

It made you wonder; what would Will think if you went and joined them? Would he get jealous? Surely he would... The thoughts urged you to test the waters. It's not like he wouldn't do things on purpose to make a fool out of himself

Standing up and blowing an opaque cloud of smoke into Williams face, you blunted the cig and straightened out your deep, navy dress.

"Bastard." He spluttered as his hand waved the tobacco fumes away. "Where you trottin' off to then?"

"Getting a closer look at the golden boys on stage, I need to see what all this wailing's about."

Eyes sharp like daggers followed you to the stage from afar. It was hard not to feel them burning a hole in the back of your head, but it wasn't like you were about to neck it off with another man; so you ignored your fiancé's protective glare quite blissfully.

"Aren't they just adorable?" A brunette girl beside you had clutched both hands on her heart as if she were struck with one of Cupid's arrows.

"Oh they most certainly are.. I swear he just looked at me!" Her blonde companion squealed in response.

Oh, this was definitely not your crowd of people. The group on stage were quite cute... but nothing worth wetting your pants over - like the girl in front of you had done.

Sighing in defeat, you decided that was one too many mediocre heartthrob artists for the night; it was time to return to your seat and order a well earned shandy.

You turned on the heel of your dap and walked straight into the chest of an older man. He was relatively tall with gelled back blonde hair, a thick stubble and kind eyes.

"My apologies sir, I'm at fault for walking so aimlessly!"

The blonde man, who was made up rather well, squinted his eyes but softened his judgemental gaze in understanding soon after.

"Aye don't worry dar, I can forgive a pretty little mouse like you."

He threw his arm around your shoulder and ruffled your hair quite harshly with the other hand

"Come and grab a drink with me if you're really sorry, pet."

That was most definitely not an invite, more like a demand. Not on your cards tonight to watch a dragging band performance and then get pursued by an extremely run of the mill business man, but here you were.

"Sorry sir but I have a fiancé, I was just heading back to my table actually."

"Right, sorry love. Off on your way then." He acknowledged, reasonably put out and embarrassed. With the amount of women on the dance floor, there were plenty of fish in the sea for him no doubt.

That was a bit awkward, you thought to yourself. There was no possible outcome in which William wouldn't be amused by your appalling attempt at making him jealous.

After manoeuvring your way back to the table, you realised he wasn't sat there anymore, in his place sat a small note on a slightly screwed up tissue.

'Gone out to beer garden, too bloody busy.' Was messily scrawled out on the napkin - followed by a poor attempt at an angry face... You grabbed your coat and retired to the quieter scenery outside.

Only a few groups of people dwelled there, all distracted and minding their own business. The sharp smell of tobacco hit you in the face immediately and lingered momentarily before dispersing.

"Had a nice time in there?" William chortled "I was gonna grab you but there were far too many heads grouped together, it was like trying to find a black cat in a coal bin."

He puffed on his newly lit cig and passed it to you

"Wasn't awful, I can dig the music just not the hoard of screaming foxes that comes with."

His long arm slithered around your waist to pull you in closer, the breeze had turned raw and your exhales turned to condensation in the chilly climate.

Just as you relaxed into his hold, the man from earlier, who was now completely and utterly drunk, stumbled into the beer garden. It seemed he'd been pushed out to calm down by his friends whom were significantly more down to earth than him.

"Oh its the pretty little lady from earlier... you know she was all over me, feeling my muscles and melting into my hold. Better get her in order, mate." The drunkard sneered at you both smugly

At first, William had no explosive reaction, although he sat up and pulled away from you slightly, considering what the man told him.

"There's no way you believe what he's saying?" Your tone a mix of defence and incredulity, scoffing at his hesitation to answer, scowl returning to the other man. "Look, I honestly don't understand your problem, if I upset you then I'm terribly sorry, but please consider removing yourself before you embarrass us all."

William's eyes darted toward your figure and brows scrunched into an expression of that laced with anger, he was absolutely livid.

Standing and approaching the drunk blonde, he assertively towered above him at 6'3.

"Don't be a prick mate, go and sober up."

The height of the situation was growing tenser by the second.

You tried to split it up but to no avail, as the two stared each other down intensely.

After a minute of convincing, the pair of you decided itd be best to leave

"Can't blame me when I tried to push her away! Nothing but a little slut looking for-" he was cut off quite suddenly with a fist to his nose.

"I said sober up you prick."

Will grabbed at his collar and pushed the bleeding accuser against the fence, drawing the attention of other smokers in the garden, spitting on his shoe forcefully.

"Come on let's go."

He signalled you to grab your possessions to leave the pub.

Weaving around the countless crowds of people became overwhelming, mixed with the strong scent of tobacco and alcohol it made the exit seem much more awaited than ever.

The journey home was long and silent whilst William ambled beside you with his hands in his pockets. It was an awkward atmosphere, but that's nothing you couldn't work your way out of.

"Quite the show you put on there, love."

"Had to bring a bit of excitement, didn't I?" he sighed deeply, pulling you into a tight embrace, kissing the top of your head. "Lets get home and listen to some oldies, sound good?"

"Gear." You replied softly, as you held each other tightly. There was nothing that would top this feeling.

"Wanna get away from here?" He hummed into your hair when you arrived home "Move to America in a few years, I'd love to start a business far away from these boring ends. I know some people who are into building machines like me, it could probably go quite far. What do you think?"

"Anywhere with you sounds like heaven"

//

A/N: Points to anyone who knows which band I was referencing as if they weren't extremely popular... I originally wanted to make it as though you two would dance to the music but I mean. The mania girls would get when they saw boy bands wouldn't give you that time, so why not add a knobhead getting a punch in the face by yours truly... This is my first piece so please don't criticise me too much lolol. I'd appreciate feedback and requests if you feel like it! Don't hesitate I wont criticise you. Just. Obviously don't be weird..

Love youse x

[ablogofchanges]

I’m so tired of being a broke young guy in his 20s. All I want is to become a fat old man who is a CEO and loves to wear a nice suits everyday. Do you think that could happen for me?

Well well, im not here not to say "that could happen", but "that WILL happen", my guy! And i think you know exactly what to expect by coming to me, heheh… I usually enjoy teenage like you wasting their youth so i can absorb more of it to myself, but what's that? You want to become a CEO, huh? Well guess im earning nothing today since your age will fill out your desire, it sure is a win-win for ya, bud'! Wait no more, i cast the spell upon your chest and knock you falling down onto the floor. Maybe your twink body can't handle such force, but soon… Right from your lung, your chest begins to ache as your breasts begin to form and the magic flows from them to your shoulders as they grow larger and larger. Your veins located on the twinky weak arms appear to fade as layers of fat are stacking upon your arms. Your spines cracks and being made to be painful, so much pain that you don't even realize you've gained more flesh on your back and bloated all the way to your stomach. A rush of calories slowly accumulates more and more fat down to your gut. Now onto your face, those little checks need to…oh nevermind, already forming round and pinky. You seem getting a headache now because it's time to get older. Your youth passes so quickly that your skin is tanned, freckled and the newly-formed nose bridges your pair of glasses as your eyes are now dart, dirty and blur your vision from this point forward while the wrinkles begin to shift and form more and more... You know, if im not getting anything from this, how about me playing my food a little more huh? Sorry bud, im gonna be a little devilish this time, heheheh…Your thighs extends from your groin, buttocks down to your feet, but not normally…Your insteps grow bigger than a normal man, but not your toes. Why's that? You start to feel your feet a little weird, as they are turning a little black, and BAM! A pair of professional shoes right on your own feet! Thats right, not only you transforming physically, but im also testing my new spell: Clothification. Confusing? Now look at this. The most painful part comes as your belly feels extremely weird. Yup, the skin of the small belly you just shape starts to look bluish and the area below your neck starts to form a blue V. Your mind is now beyond of bloating as the skin around you turns into real fabric garment, covering your big round, tank of food, and you may haven't even noticed that your legs have formed out the quality fabric piece of jeans too. Whoosh! A sudden belt and tie run around your waist and neck as they autotie to you, respectively. You see your own hands enlarging and being tanned away due to old age. Speaking of that, your chin starts forming facial hair of a small beard, quickly changing from black to white, growing up to your nose. In fact, it was just your hair relocating to your face, so you look bald to me right now, and not only for that part, all over your body start to grow hair: on your arms, legs and even the crotch! You even sense the hair on the chest and toes, too bad it was your desire….to wear nice suits every day, or should i say, your own aging skin! Oh, and don't forget the bushy hair under that shirt, it's the sexiest part of the CEO! Adding a black coat over the shirt and the transformation has now finished!

You're suddenly siting around a bunch of people dressing just like you and confused. But with a little magic, your worries turn into a smile, a laugh on your face, like you know what job you're working, what you should say and more importantly, who you look like appearantly instead of the younger body you used to have. And with that to close down my Christmas Wishing season, i hope you enjoy the new you as the life of a CEO goes on for you…..

[frogwithgun]

Writing time!!!!!!

Got this idea while listening to Sleepless 10/10 song would recommend.

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

4:05 AM. Big bold letters on his clock tease him with the fact that he still can't sleep. And how could he? How could Geto possibly sleep soundly when his best friend is just down the hall unaware of how he feels? He couldn't.

It drove him up the wall. So instead of trying to sleep any longer he just got up and went to the showers. Hoping that maybe the warm water would help him rid his mind of those clear blue eyes that reminded him of summer skies.

It didn't. Fuck.

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

He goes back to his room and flops down onto his bed. His hair splaying all around him. He sighs. Then he sits up and looks at the clock again. 5:01 AM. He reaches for the nightstand and grabs a hair tie. Carefully putting his hair up into a ponytail.

There's nothing to do so early in the mornings. So he gets up and decides to get dressed for the day. He had a long day of missions and classes ahead of him after all.

And hopefully he would get to see him.

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

"Suguru! You're awake!"

He jumps and turns to look over his shoulder. Ah there he is. Hair tussled from tossing and turning all through the night. Somehow looking perfectly imperfect. And his eyes are not yet covered by those sunglasses. Geto has to stop himself from swooning.

"Yeah. I've been up for a while. Couldn't sleep." Gojo nods. A wide grin on his lips. Geto can see the slight gloss from those candy flavor lip blams he loves to wear. He wonders, how do they taste?

He forces those thoughts away. "Why don't you come to my room next time then?" And Geto struggles to find out if he's being serious or teasing.

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

9:00 AM.

"And he's messing with me! I know he is! 'You can come to my room next time.' But I'm onto him!" Geto is in the infirmary with Shoko. Forcing her to listen to him ramble about his boy troubles. She hands him a cigarette. "Need this?"

Get immediately takes it. "There's no way he was being serious. He was probably just teasing me again." He's sitting on one of the beds and pouting. While Shoko tries to work. "Well maybe he is being serious." Geto scoffs and takes a drag from the cigarette. "Yeah right. You know he loves to mess with me."

Shoko rolls her eyes. "Look you're his one and only or something. He calls you two the strongest. And you're the only one he let's call him by his first name. If that's not enough of a sign I don't know what is!" She throws her hands up exasperated.

Geto rolls his eyes again. "I'm just waiting for him to say something more. Maybe tell me that he likes guys with black hair. Or purple eyes." He shrugs. Shokos buries her head in her hands. "I swear you two make me wanna kill myself." Geto laughs while Shoko glares at him.

"If you don't tell him I will." Geto shrugs. "Really? Let me show you something my dear friend." Shoko nods and they both leave to find Gojo.

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

10:30 AM. Geto finds Gojo. Shoko trailing behind him. "Satoru!" Gojo turns and lights up. "Suguru!" He runs to Geto and jumps into his arms. Something Geto had to get used to. So he catches Gojo with ease. "My mission was soooooo long!" He complains. And Shoko feels like ripping out her hair.

How is he so oblivious? "Satoru I love you. I love you so much it hurts." And Gojo, with the biggest smile, says, "Aw Suguru! I love you too! You're my best friend." Geto looks at Shoko, still holding Gojo, and glares at her. "Damn. So maybe you need to try harder?" Getos eye twitches.

Then he nods. "Ok fine." He full on kisses Gojo. Tasting that coca cola flavored lip balm. And Gojo just smiles. "I missed you too! We should go get some mochi!" Shoko blinks.

He's hopeless.

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

For some reason I love the idea of an oblivious ass Gojo and a very obvious Geto. It's so cute to me

[radio-free-beth-sarim]

Big Changes in JW Land

Some big changes in JW land. Women can wear pants. Men can grow beards. Field service is no longer counted by the hour. The governing body has said that skepticism about impending Armageddon is reasonable and people are allowed to "wait for the signs" before committing fully to Jehovah. And finally, current JWs are allowed to speak to disfellowshipped and faded JWs as long as it's exclusively to encourage them to come back.

These are huge changes that are already haven a big impact on the rank and file JW. Men with beards and women with pants? There is division along generational lines now where the younger JWs are adapting to the new changes and the older JWs are scandalized. This is going to happen with any change, but it's funny to me that it's happening over something so innocuous as beards and women wearing pants. This is a gamble by the governing body that might probably pay off in the long run as the old JWs die out. The ban on beards and female presenting pants will be seen as silly. It's an issue that won't even be a problem maybe ten or twenty years from now. You know what? As fucked up as it is to be told you're allowed to wear pants or grow a beard, or as some have been reporting, NOT wearing a tie (OMG) to meetings, this is a positive for the rank and file JW and ultimately I think that's good. I feel like I keep needing to reiterate that I am not looking to take anyone's religion away, but I am looking to hold the WTS accountable. I will not denigrate the religious beliefs of anyone, regardless of my personal feelings about them, unless these doctrines cause real tangible harm to people. Forcing such strict gender expression IS a harmful practice and I am glad they have been relaxed. Maybe someday they'll let women preach to men without head coverings. Maybe one day you'll see a drag queen at a Watchtower cart. Maybe one day I'll have a pet lion that only eats cotton candy and habanero peppers.

I am seeing more than a few PIMOs (still in JWs who don't believe) talking about how they've experienced anger from older JWs about these changes. Though, I should note that these are based mostly on reddit posts and youtube comments so they're hardly legitimate sources. Still, the chatter is there. Not all of it can be fake. I haven't talked to my mother about any of this to get her feelings because this is a subject she and I just do not talk about. We have an unspoken understanding not to talk about anything related to the JWs or religion, as she has so far failed to shun me and out of love and respect for her I will not give her a reason to. The real big changes are the fact that the JWs have admitted that it's a reasonable stance to be skeptical that we're in the end times and have given concessions to JWs who would like more proof. That's a big change, because skepticism has always been strictly forbidden. You take all of the doctrine 100% or you take none of it and have to leave. BIG changes and I'm wondering how many PIMOs will take this opportunity to exit.

The last change is one that affects me as an ex-JW. JWs are now allowed to speak to me. Will they? Probably not. If they do, they're only allowed to speak to me about coming back. You know what? Fuck you. They must think this is a kindness to me. And you know, maybe 15 years ago I would have seen it that way. But now? You ignore me for 20 years and only come around to invite me back into your club only because the governing body tells you that you can? No. Fuck you. If ANY of the JWs I grew up with reach out to me after all this time, they're getting a swift and vicious dressing down. I cannot think of anything more insulting. None of those fuckers cared when I was at my lowest point. They don't get to come back now that they have Mark Stephen Lett's permission.

As far as I'm concerned my mother is the only JW I've ever met with a spine for not disowning me when I left. She's the only one I would be willing to talk to about this. And I know she never will, because at least she respects me and my decisions. That's a huge privilege I have over a lot of ex-JWs and I'm thankful for that. If she does approach me, I'm going to be as loving and respectful as I could possibly be because she has maintained a relationship with me beyond the bounds of that cult at personal risk to herself. She's earned the right if she wants to. I'm never going back, but the door is open to her if she wants it. The rest of those fair weather fucks? Fuck 'em. They can come to me hat in hand with an apology or they can fuck right off.

[memethebum]

Got a pretty short update for It Takes 4 Idiots To Confess

This one is mostly SoMa sharing a brain cell and then Soul about to make a fool of himself lol

—— ——————————————————————-

“You going to Star’s place to get ready?” Soul questioned while Maka slipped on her shoes.

“Ye-yea, we wanted to get ready together,” Maka explained as her eyes began to gravitate towards the multicolored tiles which they stood upon.

I would have never agreed to this plan if I knew just how…awkward it’d make things between us Maka thought before looking up and meeting the dulled crimson sheen of Soul’s eyes.

“I can drop ya’ off on my way to Gallows…if you want,” Soul offered while grabbing his motorcycle keys from their kitchen table, leaving Maka to stand still in perturbed silence.

“You’d…do that?” the meister questioned, only to regret voicing the statement out loud after noticing how uneasy Soul’s demeanor immediately became afterwards.

“Of course. What, you thought I was just gonna leave you stranded now that I got a boyfriend?” Soul questioned, eliciting Maka to let out a choked hum.

“Huhhhh, of course not! I just…” Maka tried to rebuttal, although the she wasn’t sure why she’d even asked the question in the first place.

I thought this whole thing would be ridiculous enough to give me enough courage to finally confess, but everything just feels so…wrong she noted before filling the silence with a small shrug, only for Soul to slowly nod his head at her and unlock the front door in response.

————————————————————-

“Kid, we need to talk,” Soul whispered as they walked towards the main party hall within Shibusen.

“Can’t it wait until after we’re inside” Kid replied in the middle of fidgeting with his tie.

Soul had expected them to wear matching tuxedos since they were going to prom as a couple, but Liz had been vehement on the fact that matching outfits were considered lame now and a standard jet black suit was more his style while a light gray suit would compliment Kid a lot more.

“Oh, don’t you two look dapper today!” a voice sang from the end of the hall, causing both men to notice Marie and Stein standing right in front of the doorway leading into the party hall.

“Dapper and late as usual,” Stein then added before letting out a low chuckle.

“Hm, well better late than never. Here’s a few party favors before you walk in, food is on the left and activities are on the right, and if you kids need anything Sid and Nygus should be walking around inside ,” the woman then added while handing both Soul and Kid a small box of condoms and a map of the nearest Deathgreens for other sexual necessities .

“You-you think we’re gonna have sex!?” they both wheezed out, forcing Marie to let out a startled gasp at their accusation.

“Oh no no no , I wasn’t thinking about you two specifically or anything. I’m giving out a small pack in case things do get a bit rowdy in there for anyone and they need it. I’m really sorry if it came across-“

“MISS MARIE DO YOU HAVE ANY PLASTIC BAGS? LIZ DRANK TOO MUCH AND CAN’T MAKE IT ALL THE WAY TO THE BATHROOM IN TIME” a voice shouted above the woman’s apology, causing Soul and Kid to pinpoint it as belonging to Black*Star and gape at what they saw afterwards.

“So this is why Liz was so adamant about helping us,” Kid hissed while Soul moved his eyes between the reaper and Black*Star, only to snort at how they were both wearing gray tuxedos that were completely identical down to the smallest studs and pockets.

“It’s ok Black*Star, Kim has it under-“ the group then heard Maka exclaim before she too went silent and allowed Soul a moment to notice how identical their formal wear also was to one another.

The Deathscythe had almost mistaken the dress Maka was wearing to be the one she adorned in the black room.

However, his eyes soon took in the way it was patterned with black sequins that shimmered against the neon flashes from within the party hall and how the garment’s off shoulder neckline seemed to show off just a bit more of her smooth skin.

“HAAH-“ Black*Star attempted to shout as Maka grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back into the party hall.

The action stirred both Soul and Kid back into reality as well, which probed them into giving each other a brief passing glance before walking into the hall themselves and finding Liz hunched up in a corner with Kim and Patty by her side.

“I’m so sorry if my partner ruined your fun Kim. We’ll take it from here,” Kid hummed while Soul took a few hesitant steps backwards due to the sheer bloodlust that had been seeping out of the reaper’s voice.

“No prob. Hope you guys are able to have some fun at least,” Kim added before giving Liz a small pat on the back and walking off towards the dance floor.

“Hm yes, I suppose we’ll see how many of us have fun tonight,” the reaper absentmindedly responded while inching closer towards Liz’s lanky frame.

“ Elizabeth Allen Thompson you have some explaining to do-“

“Pretty funny idea right?” Liz then sang over Kid in a drunken stupor.

“Tsu was the other mastermind here so don’t forgot to give her some credit too,” Patty then chirped before pointing towards the catering table, causing Soul and Kid to turn back and notice the way Maka and Black*Star seemed to be chewing Tsubaki out for their outfits as well.

“Ah, to hell with all that crap! I told you guys to be here by 7:08 not 7:48 . If Sid and Nygus show up now after I worked my ass off to shoo them away, it’ll ruin our whole plan,” Liz added while latching a hand onto Soul’s wrist and pulling him towards a large crowd which surrounded the pole dancers Liz had hired for the night.

It was then that the Deathscythe began to realize just how ridiculous their plan truly was, with his anxiety only heightening to an unbearable degree once he glanced back at Maka in a phantasmic hope that she’d be able to catch onto their plan and stop it from coming into fruition.

Is this really gonna make her want to confess to me? Would-would it even be worth it if this all is just a game to see who can put on a better act? Can we even talk stuff out at this point! Soul noted before feeling Liz loosen his tie.

“Remember to breathe up there and not worry about the steps too much since the point is just to catch Maka’s attention and mhummmm Soul-“ Liz then garbled out while tapping her hand on the slither of tanned skin she’d exposed in order to amp up his sexiness.

“What’s going on in that mind of yours bestie? Ya’ look like I’m telling you to go kick Maka in the kneecaps or something. If-if you really don’t want to do this then-then that’s your decision and your decision only. No pressure,” the woman added before unceremoniously slapping her hand onto his shoulder.

“Well, I-I dunno know Liz, it’s just-“ Soul attempted to relay as he slid one of his sweaty palms against the back of his neck.

No. No I have to do it! I’ve made my bed and I’m sure as hell not aboutta just let things go back to the way they used to be, especially not after gettin’ a chance to see if Maka feels the same way about me the Deathscythe then decided while gently guiding Liz out of his way, tapped a firm hand onto her shoulder, and began to march towards the stage.

[loveforpreserumsteve]

Most Likely (high school reunion Stucky fic)

Twenty-Two:

After spending the afternoon together, Steve looked at the clock and reluctantly stood from the sofa. Stretching his arms above his head, he wiggled his fingers towards the ceiling. Only aware that his shirt rode up his torso, revealing a sliver of his abdomen, when Bucky playfully caressed his side.

Steve shot the brunet A Look, but Bucky didn't care. Instead, he giggled like he used to. And really, Steve couldn't help but join in. He felt all bubbly. A feeling that he hadn't felt in a long time. A very long time. Not since they were carefree kids racing each other on their bikes or staying up way past their bedtimes. Young, Steve felt young.

Turning to look at Bucky on the couch, Steve towered over him, enjoying the way he gazed up at him. Placing his hands on the back of his red gingham couch on either side of Bucky's head, Steve took a moment to just look at him. Bucky was so goddamn handsome that he didn't even seem real.

Just to make sure that Bucky was real and that Steve wasn't dreaming, he lowered himself the short distance between them to press his lips to Bucky's. Bucky lifted his hand to hold Steve's face. Caressing the smooth skin along his jaw before sliding his hand to the back so he could tangle his fingers in Steve's short hair. It was enough to make Steve dizzy. And he really needed to keep his wits about him. At least for a little while longer.

"Where d'ya think you're goin'?" Bucky asked when Steve reluctantly pulled away from another lingering kiss.

"I should get going."

Steve wasn't sure if it was intentional, but Bucky's lower lip pursed in a pout. It just wasn't fair. How could someone look so adorable and sexy at the same time? The brunet was too good looking for his own good, Steve decided. Especially when he looked up at Steve with those affectionate bedroom eyes.

Attempting to tug Steve down again, Bucky asked, "Do you have to?"

"Gotta head back to my room so I can get ready for the dinner."

Bucky slumped into the sofa cushions and for a moment, Steve was floating through time, remembering every time that the brunet had reacted that way. Whether it was from one of them not being able to have a sleepover at each other's houses, or Steve won at a videogame – that Bucky let him win at, but needed to sell it – or he wanted to annoy Steve by being contrarian just for the hell of it. And all of it was done with that adoring glint in those beloved gray sky eyes.

"Do you really have to?"

"Yes, I really do," Steve confirmed. Then he teased, "Gotta make sure I'm acceptable. Y'know, dapper, debonair, dazzling."

"What is this? A reunion or prom?" Bucky joked, standing from his seat.

"It's formal," Steve smiled, heading for the door, "Black tie, in fact."

Of course, Bucky followed. Showing Steve out as an excuse to kiss him again. Just one more. Or two. Or three. Alright, Steve initiated number four. And five. Who was really counting if there were six or seven or eight. And who would argue when Bucky gave a ninth or tenth.

"Well," Bucky pulled back, "If you're getting all dressed up, I probably should too."

"Nonsense," Steve half-joked. "You're already the most attractive person that I've ever seen. Wear sweats. Give some of us the chance to look good."

"Clearly, you need to get your eyes checked."

Steve rolled his eyes, "There's nothin' wrong with my eyesight, asshat."

"Agree to disagree."

Shaking his head, Steve half-heartedly agreed with a hum, "I'll see you tonight."

"See you," Bucky confirmed. "I'll be the slob in sweats."

"You'll be a walking wet dream," Steve corrected. "I'll have to fight tooth and nail just to get your attention."

Walking backwards, Steve nearly fell on his bum as he missed a step, and quickly righted himself by grabbing onto the railing. It didn't stop Bucky from reaching out though. Reaching out like he was going to grab onto Steve's shirt and force him to steady.

"Christ, you're such a goddamn klutz, it's a wonder you've made it this far in life," Bucky muttered, causing Steve to roll his eyes the same way he would while growing up. Bucky had always been a mother hen, but now Steve was starting to see it in a different light.

"Ha ha, you're just worried because you love me," Steve sing-songed before childishly sticking his tongue out at the brunet. Glancing behind himself to make sure that he wasn't about to trip over anything. At the rental, Steve paused, turning so he could smile at Bucky again.

Bucky stepped out onto the porch. Raising his hand up to his mouth, he kissed his palm and blew the kiss to Steve. Being the hopelessly romantic chump that he was, Steve reached up to catch that kiss, earning a large grin from the brunet.

Steve lingered for a moment longer. There was so much that he wanted to say. So much love that he wanted to express. Instead of doing any of that though, he climbed into the rental and left. It was harder now, driving away from Bucky. But it also lit a fire in himself with the thought of seeing him again.

Now, he had to blow Bucky! Away or in... another... way, Steve wasn't picky on the details as long as he caused the graying-brunet to lose his breath. To short-circuit his smart-as-shit brain. At least then Bucky would finally feel the way he always made Steve feel. Hopefully.

[droctaviolovecraft]

ANM-211: General Candle Head

http://mothrainstitution.wikidot.com/anm-211

ANM Number: ANM-211

Responsible Researcher: Dr. Octavio

Identification: General Candle Head

Danger Level: Snit 🟡 (Cognitive)

Containment Difficulty: 2 (Medium)

Anomaly Type: Biological, humanoid, sentient, military

**Containment:** ANM-211 must be kept in a climate-controlled containment cell at 25°C, with an adequate ventilation system. The cell should be monitored by security cameras and motion sensors. Any escape or aggression attempts must be reported immediately to Dr. Juliano.

ANM-211 does not need food or water. ANM-211 should have access to books, magazines, games, and other recreational items, provided they do not pose a threat to containment or the safety of the staff. Weekly therapy sessions with a certified psychologist are required.

ANM-211 must not have contact with any other ANM or person without prior authorization from Dr. Juliano. Anyone entering ANM-211's containment cell must wear a full protective suit and a helmet with an opaque visor. ANM-211 should not be exposed to any excessive heat sources or fire, as this could cause irreversible damage to its anomaly.

**Description:** ANM-211 is an adult male approximately 50 years old, standing 1.80m tall and weighing 95kg. ANM-211 exhibits all the physical characteristics of a normal human except for his head, which is composed of a melted white candle. The candle has a wick extending from the top of his head to the base of his neck, which is constantly lit, producing a flame about 10 cm high. The candle never wears down. The individual is always dressed in a dark green military uniform, including a black tie and shoulder pads with red details and a military emblem.

ANM-211 claims to be General Antônio Carlos Vieira, a former commander of the Brazilian Army who was presumed dead in a helicopter crash in 1993. ANM-211 displays detailed knowledge of Brazilian military history and the operations and strategies of the Army. ANM-211 also has an authoritative, arrogant, and patriotic personality, demanding respect and obedience from both subordinates and enemies.

ANM-211’s anomalous ability manifests in two main forms: visual and cognitive. The visual form consists of ANM-211's appearance as a military general with a melted candle head, perceived by anyone who sees him directly or through a camera. The cognitive form consists of ANM-211’s ability to influence the minds of those who hear him speak, making them believe he is a legitimate and worthy leader. ANM-211 can use this ability to persuade, manipulate, or intimidate people, depending on his goal.

**Interviewer:** Dr. Juliano

**Interviewee:** ANM-211

**Date:** 11/30/2023

**Location:** Department-00 of the MOTHRA Institution

<Start of recording>

**Dr. Juliano:** Good morning, ANM-211. I am Dr. Juliano. I would like to ask you some questions about yourself and your... case.

**ANM-211:** Good morning, doctor. But I prefer you call me by my name: General Antônio Carlos Vieira, commander of the Brazilian Army. (The individual's voice is muffled)

**Dr. Juliano:** Apologies, General Vieira. I know who you were.

**ANM-211:** I did not die. I was saved by a superior force that gave me a new mission: to defend Brazil from its internal and external enemies. I was chosen to be the nation's leader.

**Dr. Juliano:** And how do you explain your appearance? How do you explain the fact that you have a melted candle in place of your head?

**ANM-211:** ...

**Dr. Juliano:** And do you feel pain? Aren’t you bothered by the heat?

**ANM-211:** No, I feel nothing.

**Dr. Juliano:** And what exactly is your mission?

**ANM-211:** My mission is to restore order, justice, democracy. My mission is to eliminate the corrupt, the traitors, the enemies. My mission is to free Brazil from the clutches of evil, from the shadows of chaos.

**Dr. Juliano:** And who are these enemies? Who are these shadows?

**ANM-211:** You know very well who they are. They are those who want to destroy Brazil, who want to sell our heritage.

<End of recording>