#(so I think there are conversations to be had and it's actually a pretty complicated subject that can get VERY VERY messy)

[rawliverandgoronspice]

genuinely bewildered at how it's just g@merg@te again. like it's just exactly the same strategy, except now it's a cabal of dark and sinister narrative designers instead of "there are women near my games" but it's like the same fucking thing and I'm so tired honestly

[exopelagic]

okay I severely misjudged spaghetti guy he’s actually just really cool

[ragnarokhound]

"reading under the red hood and it's pretty good i think" - jason todd fan who has only seen the cartoon adaptation of under the red hood

[rowenabean]

.

[magicalmanhattanproject]

man im just like. thinking about egg signs and how they've evolved over the course of the qsmp and how the qsmp has evolved over the course of the qsmp and just feeling so much love and affection for every part of the project. i dont have any grand overarching point with this just. like. here's a history of egg comms bc of the kind of person that i am

so wayyyy back ten months ago now at the start of the short and sweet egg event that was planned to last maybe a month at most, the eggs had their own custom, decorated signs!

[ID: Leo with a pink sign with an egg on the bottom corner that reads "hello" in all caps. Her nametag reads Leonardo. End ID]

They were extremely simple, single word signs. There was hello, hola, story, feed, sleep, and maybe one or two more and each was its own separate sign. The eggs could only communicate the most basic needs in words and everything else was through minecraft body language or just hoping their parents guessed right.

But obviously, there was a lot more that parents wanted to hear from their children. I'm not sure who was actually first, but the earliest departure from this system I know about is BadBoyHalo giving Dapper a simple oak sign so he could name his pet slime. (Screenshot from @/lxrd-ren)

[ID: Dapper wearing a diver's helmet standing next to a tiny slime in a boat with an oak sign reading "Bouncy (slmecicle but better)" End ID]

Parents quickly realized how much more convenient this was and pretty soon every single egg had stacks of signs to communicate with.

The next innovation came from Vegetta, who was the resident mod knower at the time. He knew about colored canvas signs and gave Leo signs in her favorite color purple because he loved her and gave her everything she wanted.

[ID: Leo's bed in her room under some Fooligetta fanart with a purple sign reading "<3" End ID]

Colored signs obviously had a lot of advantages. Being able to tell at a glance which egg placed which sign was a huge step forward in eggs being able to have long, complicated conversations as well as leaving obvious marks of their personality everywhere they went. It took a little while for them to be standard for every egg though. Bobby never stopped using oak signs even after Richas and Pomme both showed up with colored signs.

[ID: Two signs reading from right to left a red Pomme sign reading "we already started working on a guillotine factory" and a dark grey Dapper sign reading "thats the most french u have said so far pomme" End ID]

And this was the system for a while! And it worked pretty well for most people! The biggest struggle most people had was egg signs not being translated, but streamers adjusted to that by reading signs out loud so the translators would pick up on them. This also lead to adorable and fascinating dynamics like Richas swearing in signs he wrote for Bad and then warning Bad not to read them out. There was also the genuinely phenomenal development of Leolingo where Leo writes only in Spanish to Foolish because it's easier for her to write and he takes his time to puzzle his way through it and learn in a way that's super cool to watch someone else do onscreen.

Then Tubbo joined the server. And Tubbo himself had no problems at all with the system, but he is dyslexic and he casually mentioned offhand that it was getting kind of annoying to read signs after a ten hour long stream and the admin team Fucking Cooked.

Within 24 hours, they had TTS working on the signs. Within 48 hours, it was working on books too. I can't remember how long it took to get translation working, but it was definitely under a week.

And this opened up a whole new world of possibilities for the entire QSMP. The admin team has been on top of capitalizing on it for story purposes, but also just allowing the egg admins to speak in their native languages to everyone whenever they want has been so enriching for everyone involved. Leolingo is awesome but Foolish has been learning Spanish insanely fast and his process is a lot slower and more frustrating than most people can do in front of an audience of thousands of people without feeling discouraged. That's also one language. We've had everything from Foolish being able to check his work a bit more faster to Phil insisting on his eggs taking a day to speak to him in their native languages to Ramón writing a book for Fit in Cantonese, a language we haven't even seen on the server in any other context!

And all of it is fully understood and fully communicated! Sometimes the translators mess up but no one expects them to be perfect and people ask for clarification if the translator says something that doesn't sound right. It's not only a massive step forward in communication technology, but it's a great demonstration of how to use it and when you can and can't rely on it.

And finally, the most recent innovation! One of BBH's viewers sent him a dono saying they had trouble reading certain signs because they were too low-contrast. Bad, Richas, and Pomme just. Took it upon themselves to fix the problem right there and then. Based on One (1) bringing up their own personal struggle, those three came up with new signs that innovate tremendously on the originals.

[ID: Two separate images of the before and after. The first is the egg signs in their original colors with the corresponding egg's name written on them to demonstrate the font color and the second is in the new, higher contrast colors with the same text. The new signs also have custom decorations for each egg. The second picture also has two signs from Pomme in all caps that read "Send all the love to Richas he spent a whole night making this he's the best <3" End ID]

There are three main innovations visible in the above pictures

1: Obviously, the colors are higher contrast. The signs with white text have darker colors and the signs with black text have lighter colors.

2: The colors themselves are lower saturation. Richas said this made it easier for him personally to read them so he corrected that way, but that's open to change if it causes difficulties for more people than it helps

3: The decorations are for accessibility reasons! People with various different forms of colorblindness will find different sets of colors easier or harder to distinguish, but any of them can look at the decorations and use them to identify whose sign is whose instead.

But! Those innovations are not why I made this post! It's these ones!

[ID: The backs of the new signs when placed on the ground. Most visible are Chayanne's with vines and a hardcore heart, Sunny's with shining sunglasses, and Pomme's with an apple and the Eiffel Tower. End ID]

Richas added distinguishing marks to the backs of the signs too! This is something that Bad brought up specifically as something he wanted because it was hard for him to tell who was talking when he was using TTS from behind signs and couldn't see the colors at all.

We went from custom egg signs (a hotbar or so of words and nothing else to communicate with) through a long journey of expanding communication and expanding who we're bringing along on the communication and how easily they can join in and we've circled all the way back around to custom egg signs (they can say anything they want in any language they want and anyone will know it's them saying it from any angle)

and i guess i have enough feelings abotu that to write All This about it

[lafleshlumpeater]

Hi babe!! I loved your Luke x Aphrodite reader and was wondering if you could do another?? If you alr have an idea go ahead with whatever you want but maybe something with protective Luke 🤭🤭

I’m on a new Luke obsession from the show

Thanks!!!

thanks for requesting<3 i hope you like this!!

warnings: fem!reader, unwanted flirting, protective/possessive behaviour (not in a toxic way though), mentions of drinks (unspecified whether it's alcohol or not), one word that i think can be classified as a swear word?? lmk if i missed any

requests are always open <3

luke castellan masterlist part one

“Hi.”

You jump slightly. “Hey. You scared me,” you breathe a nervous laugh through your nose. What was taking Luke so long?

You and your boyfriend had gone to the fourth of July bonfire- together, obviously- and he had disappeared, mentioning something vague about drinks and the Stoll twins (probably seeking their most recent stock of soda stash, smuggled, of course) when a slightly older camper approached you. You recognised him as an Apollo camper- you had seen him train with a bow and arrow; he was good.

He sits down next to you on the sand, slightly too close for you to be fully comfortable. Your eyes dart around frantically, looking for one of your siblings to save you- but Silena was cosied up with Beckendorf, foreheads pressed together and giggling whilst Lacy was chatting up a newer camper. You curse internally, the rest of your siblings either splashing around in the ocean or helping set up for the firework display. You offer the unfamiliar camper another strained smile in a futile attempt at breaking the awkward silence.

What was his name? Something starting with 'M', maybe?

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing alone?” the mystery boy asks- a bit too directly, in your opinion, for someone you hardly know.

You give a little giggle, hoping it sounds appreciative of the basic compliment. Even after being in this agonising situation on multiple occasions, you had gotten no better at handling them. You sigh wistfully. If only your mother had given you powers to deter unwanted attention as well as attracting it.

“Uh… I’m waiting. For my boyfriend.” You ensure to place extra emphasis on the title. He smirks, unfazed.

“Some shitty boyfriend, huh?” He says in satisfaction, completely misreading the situation to fancy his own whims, accompanied with the fakest sympathetic sigh. It makes you want to scream.

“No, actually-”

“Actually, the ‘shitty’ boyfriend’s right here.”

You can’t help but exhale in relief, muscles loosening at the mere sound of Luke’s voice. You stand up, turning around to face him. “Luke.”

“Hey, doll.” The glare etched in his sculpted features (directed at the obnoxious flirt) contrasts greatly with the gooey sweetness of his greeting. “Who’s your friend?”

You try not to snort. “Uh…”

He doesn’t wait for an answer, wrapping a fierce arm around your shoulders. You melt into him. “There a problem, buddy?”

An amused smirk creeps onto your face, and you have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing. Luke never calls anyone ‘buddy’.

“N- no, course not, I was just…” the Apollo camper stutters.

Luke raises a blond eyebrow. “Just?”

“Keeping her company!” he blurts out, already beginning to edge away from the conversation. 

Luke looks at the ground, lips curving upwards in a cold smirk. “Well, for next time, don’t worry. I’ll take you with me next time, sweet thing, if you feel lonely, ‘kay?” he simpers, half- joking for your entertainment, half in seriousness in wanting to ward off the unsuspected boy. By this time, he’s already gone and Luke leans down to whisper, hand tightening around your waist slightly as his lips brush the shell of your ear. “My girl,” he mutters.

taglist: @quickslvxrr @bibliophile-dendrophile

READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.

[sanguineterrain]

I am FERAL over your knight Jason thought. FERAL!!! Okay check this out: so Jason's ignoring reader because he feels guilty right? Maybe he tried to give them back but the king wouldn't allow it. But maybe the reader misunderstands and thinks they're not doing their "duties" so they make dinner and breakfast and wash his clothes and basically act like a perfect spouse. How would Jason react? 👀

Dear god... I feel another series coming on...

Idkidk, their dynamic is just really interesting to me! it's probably gonna be a bit of a slow burn here. Feel free to send more thoughts about them. I am rotating these two like a rotisserie chicken in my brain.

knight!jason todd x gn!reader. ambiguous time period but just assume it's olden times *gestures vaguely*. tw arranged marriage/forced relationship but it's complicated! jason is full of angst and self-loathing but he's a sweetie as per usual. original post for context.

****

The soldier—Jason—has said four words since you've arrived.

The first was "here," which he said whilst handing you a mug of milk. He didn't look at you as he said it, and that morning, he left for a five-day long station. You only know that because he said, after handing you the milk, "I've been stationed."

You realized it was five days when you heard his horse galloping towards the house... five days later.

You haven't initiated conversation because though you're a commoner, and no one ever had much hope for you to become anything but an old spinster, you know not to challenge knights.

But this is fucking ridiculous.

"Do you like veal?" you ask on your fourteenth day here.

Jason is about to leave, his boots half laced. He freezes at your question and looks up.

You stand tall, chin up. This is a normal question. A question a wife would ask her husband, except you're not a wife, and you're pretty sure this soldier isn't a husband either.

"I like veal," he says carefully, slowly. "Would you like me to fetch some from the market?"

Now, this is where it gets tricky. When the king summoned you, he made it clear that you were expected to care for Jason under his rules. You don't know how to navigate this world. You know what couples in your village do, but you don't know what's expected of you here.

"Actually, I..." Jason looks at you. His eyes are very green. He has a surprisingly sweet face under his helmet. "Actually, I was wondering if I could go. On my own."

"Oh."

You brace yourself for arguing or yelling. True, he hasn't raised his voice once, but he also hasn't said much at all. It's like living with a ghost.

"Yes, of course. Of course you can go." He fishes out a pouch of coins and gives them to you. You take it slowly, waiting for him to realize his mistake. He doesn't.

"Thank you," you say.

He nods and watches you walk.

"Wait."

You stop. Here it comes.

"There's a cargo ship in port today. The guards rotate at noon."

He leaves before you can form a thought. You hold the coins, watching blankly as the door shuts behind him. His horse whinnies, and then he's gone.

The market isn't far from the cottage. It's fantastic to be outside again. No one's noticed your absence, clearly, but that's alright. You've never expected more.

You buy a good cut of veal and potatoes and carrots and apples. Jason gave you more money than any cut of meat would cost, so surely he assumed you would buy other food. Why else would he give you so much?

A ship's horn drones in the distance. You're feeling some oranges when you remember his words. A cargo ship.

The sun is almost at its highest point.

"Oi! Either buy 'em or stop feelin' 'em!" the seller snaps.

You roll your eyes and move on from the orange stand. You can see the horizon of where the sky meets the sea from here. Any moment, the guards will change, and the ship will be...

You stop. Was Jason hinting at your escape?

No, he couldn't have been! That's preposterous. Why would he want you gone? The king took you for a reason.

And where would you go anyway? Once you leave, you'd be a criminal forever. You couldn't make a home on your own. And who knows what could happen in between? Pirates, enemy soldiers, anybody could snatch you up.

This must've been a test. A test to see if you would run. That's why he agreed to you going so easily.

No, your escape can't be planned now. Not when you're so obviously uncomfortable, and Jason knows it.

You ignore the ship and go home with your purchases. You spend the rest of the afternoon preparing veal stew. You warm leftover bread over the fire and set a pot of butter on the table.

Jason comes in louder than he has before, humming quietly. You perk up at the sound, happy for the lack of silence.

You set a bowl of stew at his chair and wait by the fire. As soon as he enters the kitchen, the humming stops.

"Welcome home," you say, wringing your hands. "I made supper."

Jason glances at the table, then back at you.

"You came back," he says.

"Why wouldn't I?" you ask, face neutral as you cut the bread into chunks.

"That—did the ship come?"

"Yes."

Jason sits. His face is dirty from training.

"I bought more than veal," you say, and hand him the pouch. "I hope that's alright. We—there were no more potatoes."

He takes the pouch, rubbing the string tied around the top. "You went to the marketplace... and came back."

It's not a question, but it sounds like there might be one behind it.

"Certainly," you say. "I'm loyal to you, Jason. I serve you."

He looks up, blinking rapidly. Then he looks back at his stew.

Oh, right. He's waiting for you to ask permission to sit.

"May I join you?" you ask.

Jason flinches. "You don't... you don't have to ask. I would never stop you from eating."

The words hang in the air. It's like neither one of you can speak right.

You watch him, and he watches you as you serve yourself and sit on the opposite side of the table. Jason takes the first bite, and you eat right after.

"Is the supper satisfactory? Have I done well?" you ask.

Jason stops chewing and sets his spoon down. You're struck by his shift in demeanor. You worry for a moment you've screwed up something as dim-wittingly simple as stew.

His eyes are sad as they fall on you. It's akin to grief, the pain he wears, but you don't know why he's grieving. You silently offer him more bread, pushing it toward him. He takes it.

"Yes," he says quietly and eats another spoonful. "You did. Thank you for supper."

Jason cleans his bowl three times. You have no stew leftover, which pleases you.

But as soon as Jason finishes eating, he gets up, rinses his bowl, and wordlessly leaves.

You don't see him for the rest of the night.

Somehow, you feel lonelier than when you weren't speaking.

[sheepwavehdg]

Many of HDG's loudest detractors miss the point when they describe the setting as horror. They are not wrong, but because they do not engage with the themes, subtext and metaphors at play, instead focusing on a purely literal understanding of the setting, they don't understand why they find it so offputting. They yell about humanity never reaching its full potential, or the violations of individual spirit that lie at its heart. HDG imagines a world where the kind of treatment that the severely disabled among us experience is universal.

And yeah... Fair. A factual recount of my life is actually pretty horrifying.

HDG exists in conversation with disability. It is not about being trans or queer, though there is obviously a lot of overlap. It is about imagining a world where those who have disabilities are cared for, and pulling apart the complicated feelings that authors have about the loss of control required for that to happen.

The mechanics of the specific allegories that HDG employs to examine disability frequently lean into noncon, but remember, nobody who is disabled asked to be, and we are frequently the victims of systemic abuse they the Affini are often a cathartic reclaiming of.

HDG is about a world where you go through that and emerge with a promise that you will be cared for on the other side. That you don't have to navigate systems seemingly intentionally designed for you to fall through the cracks, where you won't be expected to be able to do what everyone else is capable of.

HDG is also written by those of us who survived. Straight up, I should be dead, and it is only through the incredible support of my loved ones that I have a home at all. Those of us who can live to tell the tale of severe disability are, by definition, biased to examine caretaker and provider roles.

The moment you realize you are truly disabled, that you will never, ever live the life you have been promised, where a doctor infantalizes and criticizes you for things you never had control over, is a kind of death. The breaking of the narrative that you have the ability to fully self determine is painful. It leaves you forever changed.

This is a fact of the setting that is easily lost under the joy inherent to kink. Traumatized and broken people deserve joy, and I don't think the utopian elements of HDG don't belong, but they are not the whole picture.

Some of my examinations are happy, like Good Sensory. Others examine how hard it is to trust after being kicked for so long, like Cat and Mouse. All are messy and personal.

HDG describes a world where everyone like me survives. The life I live every day, but made safe, and comfortable, for everyone. And to some, that is one of the most scary things they can imagine.

[asapeveryday]

SHOCK FACTOR★彡PART 2

Previously. Next.

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Rival!Reader

Warnings: swearing, tension ;)

Summary: you’re hungover and need a break from the media attention, but it’s hard to get breaks with Paige Bueckers, who seems to be wherever you are and makes a point to make sure you feel her presence.

A/n: thanku to the anon who gave me sum inspo for this chap. Keep the ideas rollin! Also I loveee this pic of Paige

___________________________________________________________

“MY HEAD hurts so fucking bad.” You whine, leaning your head back against the headrest of Elaine’s car. Your night at the bar had been a little too exciting, and the evening of hundreds of comments and questions concerning you and a certain blonde point guard did not help.

“Have you checked your inbox?” She says, glancing at you as she drives through the city.

“Fuck no.” You grumble out. “Everyone is trying to be all up in my business cus of Paige.”

“That’s how it is for her, like, all the time.” Elaine sighs. “It’s actually sad to think about how careful she has to be.”

You shake your head. “Everyone has to be careful, that’s how it is when you’re an athlete. It’s not just her.”

“But it’s especially her.” She insists. “Girl I love you, but you’re like just getting popular. Paige? People have been up her ass since she was freshman.”

“Big Paige fan are we?” You quip, giving your friend a playfully annoyed glare. “Do me a favour and don’t talk for a bit.”

She laughs, and it’s comfortable silence until the car pulls into the parking lot of a local coffee shop. It’s pretty busy with students either working, with friends or sitting around and studying. The air feels refreshing against your skin, and the shop is undeniably cute. Somehow you still feel uneasy as you walk in.

You and Elaine stand in line, scoping out the menu. She’s telling you about the best mushroom melt sandwich she’s ever had when you hear the someone clear their throat behind you.

“Long time no see.”

Paige’s presence is overwhelming, her hair Dutch braided close to her head, making it easier for you to be mutilated by her aggressive staring. You were so tired it didn’t even occur to you that you shouldn’t check her out, noting her black ripped jeans that hugged her like a second skin and her pink Overtime hoodie.

“Could’ve been longer.” You eventually mutter, tearing your eyes from her body and meeting her face, which is bearing a slightly bashful, slightly proud look.

“Obviously not, since you seem to have good tabs on me.” Paige smiles. “You look a little different the morning after. What’d you say yesterday? Not tryna get white-girl wasted?” She scoffs. She didn’t have to check you out like you did, she’d been looking at you since you walked in the coffee shop. She’d noticed your slightly messed up hair and lazy outfit. Somehow it didn’t seem to deter her from licking her lips between her words, as if her thoughts were less than coffee-shop-friendly.

You rub your face in hopes of erasing anymore distracting thoughts of her. “I didn’t get white girl wasted.” Is the best comeback you come up with.

“You look white-girl wasted.” Paige smirks.

“Aren’t you just a boss at making conversation.” You roll your eyes. “Ditch the skinny jeans then come back to me.”

“Um, (Name)? Do you want me to order for you?” Elaine sheepishly interrupts, eyes darting between you and Paige. “I can get you the sandwich I told you about.”

“Yeah, sure, whatever.” You say, not really paying attention. Paige however is, because her eyes shift to Elaine. “The mushroom sandwich?”

“That’s the one.” She nods.

Paige’s eyes meet yours again. “Don’t get that one. It’s actual shit. This place isn’t good for food, just get a coffee.”

Elaine scoffs at this, and Paige shoots her a look. “So,” Elaine says, putting a hand on your shoulder while staring pointedly at Paige. “What’ll it be?”

You honestly can’t understand why everyone is complicating shit for you. “I dunno. Get the sandwich. I can have a coffee too.”

“Caramel Macchiato. Get that.” Paige smiles. Elaine’s expression gets more and more annoyed by the second, but she orders the sandwich and coffee before dragging you off to sit.

-

“She’s such a dick.” Elaine huffs, her back to Paige and her friends.

You’re watching her as discreetly as possible. Paige, KK and Ice were all on live. You couldn’t hear what they were saying but you could tell they seemed to be having fun, and also making a big ruckus.

“What’s with the focus on Paige today, Elaine?” You ask, forcing yourself to take a bite of the sandwich she ordered you. “I thought you didn’t pay much attention to all them.”

“It’s nothing, seriously.” She shuts you down with no hesitation. “I mean, everyone knows of Paige. She’s just…”

“She’s just…?” You raise your eyebrow.

“I mean you get it! She’s full of herself.” Your friend rolls her eyes.

“Right.” You simply say. Elaine was acting odd, but you don’t think much further of it. “I’m gonna get a napkin.”

You didn’t really need a napkin, but the table that had them was just close enough to Paige that you could hear what was going on without being too in shot. You just had to be calm and position yourself a certain way. It wasn’t much issue, you stalled by the table while drinking in the conversation.

“If Paige was a fruit she’d be likeee a banana.”

“Why, cus I’m blonde?” The girl responds incredulously.

“Now why are we comparing Paige to fruits…” Ice mutters to KK, prompting the two to burst out into hearty laughter while Paige shakes her head and walks away.

Before you know it, there’s someone beside you grabbing a napkin. You mentally curse yourself for feeling slightly delighted to see the tall blonde staring back at you with a slight smile.

“How bad is the sandwich?”

“So fuckin’ bad.” You shake your head, hating how good it felt to see a proud look spread across Paige’s face.

“And the coffee?” She asks, leaning against the table, her head slightly tilted.

“S’ alright.” You tut, noting her furrowed eyebrows at your response.

“Alright? You’re trippin. I put you on the best coffee in Storrs right here.”

“I’ve had better.” You shrug. “I can tell you guys are only here cus they don’t kick you out while you’re on live.”

Paige’s eyes widen as if you’ve just personally threatened her and her choice of coffee. With eyes that blue it almost blows you away how electrical her gaze can be. With every new expression you unlock it’s another zap to your brain.

“And why exactly are you here?” She licks her lips. “One hell of a coincidence, huh.”

“Don’t get too excited.” You smile and gesture to Elaine, who’s watching the exchange with an interested look. “All thanks to my lovely friend over there, she always seems to know just where you are.”

At this Paige scoffs, and it comes off a little differently then her previous tone. “You got that right.”

Before you can register her comment, her friends gesture to her that they’re leaving. Paige looks at you for a moment before you say “Go on, Bueckers. Mama’s calling.”

“Something like that.” She smirks, pulling out a pen from her pocket and scribbling something onto one of your napkins. “I’ll be expecting another call tonight.”

Paige leaves in a hurry, tossing her hair from her shoulder and leaving you in a slight daze. The napkin has her number on it.

[hazashiovo]

Omg that kuvira sub req was lit! Could you do one for Zuko please? Maybe after he’s become fire lord?

I decided that instead of writing nsfw, to just make it angst to fluff. Sorry that it's not what you asked for ,but this is what I got.

Genre:Friends with benefits to enemies to lovers ,angst to fluff,

Tw: mentions of trauma, burning and leaving a scar.

Zuko x Fem reader

Ever since you ran away from Zuko to help the avatar restore peace to the world,you kept thinking that he would let go of you.

But no, you can't catch a damn break, since you ran away he's been chasing you. He swore to find you.

How? You have no clue. But you never doubted his devotion for this cause,you knew that Zuko had that burning will in him.

I mean,you were his soldier,and things between you two were...complicated.

Sometimes you would have heart to heart conversations. Maybe about your life,or what you would be in the future, and other times it was just making out after a stressful day. But you never did more than that,he wanted you ,and you wanted him but there was always something holding you back.

Now this is something that fuels Zuko, his need for revenge is powered by those moments between you two. And not only that,but if he finds you he also finds the Avatar. Which is the perfect reason for him.

You get to be punished for treason,and at the same time he would finally have his honor restored. That's what he says to himself at night. It's not like he wants more.

So for months, almost a year he searched for The avatar,and for you,each time you managed to slip right trough his fingers.

The last time he saw you was at the northern water tribe,when he tried capturing Aang you fought Zuko while Katara protected the younger boy. Zuko knew he could do so much damage to you,but he simply couldn't.

You unfortunately lost,after all Zuko was stronger than you. You both knew it,but it never stopped you before.

You tried talking to him,you always thought that if you got a chance you would be able to at least get him to think of another way,a better way. Maybe this way things wouldn't be so complicated between you two.

But no matter how much you tried,he was just too stubborn.

You tried putting a fight again,he was so angry that he didn't even realize with what force he sent that fire at you,not even throwing you a second glance.

Too blinded by anger,now that you weren't in his way anymore he went for Aang.

If you wouldn't have blacked out you would've saw the way Katara fought the prince,after all he harmed you, and wanted to take Aang away.

You woke up on Appa,Katara was tending to your burn mark, trying to completely heal it.

"I'm sorry (Name),but it's going to leave a pretty big scar here." Her hand would lay on your shoulder comforting.

It was rough looking in the mirror,but you started getting used to it. The bad part was when you started having nightmares of your fight with the prince,the burning feeling awaking you in cold sweat.

You healed with time, fortunately for you,the prince and you didn't meet again after that. You split from the team,it was necessary for you to find a way to heal the scar that Zuko left in your mind.

Imagine the shock on your face when you finally got reunited with your friends.To see Zuko there was something you never expected. Deep inside you knew he could change but never actually thought he would.

He would be so awkward, and yeah he would talk to himself, trying to find the right way to apologize to you for hunting you down and kicking your ass. It was also this little thing, he never realized how much you affected him when you were around until you left,and it drove him mad. Never quite understanding why.

He kept his distance from you, mostly because he didn't really know how to approach you. It's not that he's as mad as he was before when you betrayed him, but it's still awkward.

So you two just stayed away from each other. The group could see something was up with you two,I mean they knew about your scar and journey ,but Zuko didn't.

Nobody told him about the scar he left on you back then, and you never confronted him about it.

One night when you wanted to take your mind away from all that's happening ,you found yourself in the lake near your camp.

A swim would do you good.

Unfortunately for you ,that's what the young prince also had in mind.

He was left speechless once he saw your naked form in the water. A certain part of you got his attention,your back.

There was this big part of your shoulder all the way to your waist that was just burned.

And then it clicked, when he fought you in the north water tribe,he did this.

"Stop staring." You speak,loud enough for him to hear you, getting deeper into the water so your back would no longer be visible to his longing stare.

"I wasn't staring." He turns his head away embarrassed,his face hot just thinking that you caught him staring at your form. He acted like a pervert. How could he be so stupid?

Zuko quickly took off, not allowing you to say anything else.

He spent the night thinking,about you ,your scar your body. It annoyed him so much that all he could think was you.

So he left the next day with Sokka, on a mission to free Sokka and katara's dad from a high security prison. Totally no big deal.

Each day he spent there he hoped he could get you off his mind,but no matter how hard he tried you were just stuck on him.

Let's just say that he had some pretty unusual taughts while he was locked away.

After he saw Sokka with Suki he got this weird feeling, it was some inside him pushing him to be this way,with you.

So there he was,back at the camp with a complete mission, trying to find a way to speak to you. And he couldn't really bring up the last time he saw you, 'Yeah I saw you naked and I stared at you, wanna date?' no way in hell, unless he wants to be seen as the biggest creep ever.

"Mind if I sit?" Zuko's eyes dart up at you,he didn't even hear you coming her.

"No one's stoping you." You sit down next to him, noticing how he quickly looks away.

"It's been a while huh?" Your eyes look up at the dark starry sky, hoping he's willing to talk to you.

Zuko furrows his brows, searching for the right words to say. He never had to think so hard while talking to you,why is it so hard now?

"I won't bite if you say something." You nudge him with your elbow, sending his thoughts away for now.

"Listen,I'm really sorry for what I did to you back in the north,I was just so blinded by my desire for honor that I was willing to cut trough-" your lips stop Zuko from saying another word, already hearing what you wanted.

He's sorry for hurting you,and he admitted that he was blindly chasing something useless,and that's all you wanted to hear from him.

He whidens his eyes for a second,finally realizing what's happening he cups your cheek with one hand and closes his eyes, kissing you back.

You break the kiss, looking at his face for any sign of reluctance. But all you can see in his eyes is this soft look,it's really cute.

"You have no idea how much I wanted to hear that from you." You whisper, afraid that if you would speak any louder you would break this comfortable feeling around you.

He smiles, closing his eyes. All this time he thought so much , wondering how your next interaction would go,or what would you say to him.

He missed the kisses,soft ones were his favorite,but the making out had a tool on him too.

"I missed this." He speaks,hand trailing down your lip, carefully touching it.

"I never thought you'd forgive me." Zuko allows his head to meet with yours gently stroking your cheek.

"Thank you for becoming a better version of yourself."you smile, placing your hands on his wrist in a gentle manner.

"Okay what's going on here?" Sokka looks at the two of you like he witnessed a war crime. Did he drink cactus juice without realizing??

I couldn't do it.

I couldn't write Zuko smut yet ,I'm sorry 😭

[zweiginator]

Omg omg I saw a p0rn caption with a father in law and ejsjajkakan

DILF!Patrick who's stepson is just as scummy as he was. And it shouldnt piss Patrick off - he's not even his actual kid, and why does he care about you, the stupid pretty girl who seems oblivious to the things that your boyfriend is doing.

But you're so ... Sweet. You do the dishes without being asked. You wear *curlers* to bed.

He must be getting soft. Why else does he get painfully hard watching you putter about the kitchen in the mornings? Why does he sit through your stupid TV on the many nights his idiot stepson leaves you home alone? Why does he find himself furiously fucking his fist after you walk by in your tiny silk PJs, but its your sweet smile he needs to think about to come? He's inside another woman, and she's doing everything right, but it's your smile that gets him there, and he bites back a moan of your name?

He really must be going soft. And when you find out the truth about his stepson - he'll just have to make sure he's there to pick up the pieces.

🐼

oh panda yes…

and patrick can’t be mad about it—he must’ve learned it somewhere. the old adage is completely true. the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. and patrick is a single father because of his own sexual endeavors, his utter inability to keep his dick in his pants and stay tied down with commitment.

his son, before going off to college, didn’t hold onto girlfriends. maybe he had internalized his own parents’ relationship and that’s why he cheated on them, screwed them over.

but then after his junior year, he came home with a girl on his arm. you. you with a pink duffle bag and a stuffed bear tucked under your own arm. patrick had told his son it would be more than fine for you to stay with them. your relationship with your own family complicated and your ability to afford a flight home extremely limited.

you tell your boyfriend how sweet his father is. so kind and doting. he helps you pass the time—while his son sleeps in until two in the afternoon, you’re up early, making pancakes and sipping coffee in your silk pajama sets. patrick tries not to stare as you bend over to pick up some chocolate chips that fall to the ground as you try to open the bag.

you don’t realize patrick was awake.

“mr. zweig. sorry to make a mess—i hope you don’t mind. just wanted to make a nice breakfast.”

he shakes his head, sitting down at the kitchen island as you plop some butter into the hot pan.

“no worries at all sweetheart. what’s mine is yours.”

he smiles and you see your boyfriend in him. for obvious reasons, it makes sense. but patrick is more mature. he pays more attention. he talks to you about the world, your studies. your family and plans after college. where are you from? you don’t sound like you’re from around here.

butterflies burn inside your stomach because your boyfriend doesn’t care this much to ask. he likes sleeping in and drinking beer. going out on saturdays and lazy conversations that don’t reach the profound depth that your’s and patrick’s do.

you talk with him all morning. he shares the pancakes with you and he compliments them endlessly.

“wow—“ his eyebrows furrow as he takes the last bite, melted chocolate smearing on his lip. “these are delicious. you’re quite the catch!” he nudges you and you want to sit closer. he does too. he can’t be thinking like this, about his son’s girlfriend. your nipples are hard, poking against the silk of your pajama top and he quickly looks away. he gathers the dishes.

“you go and get ready for the day. i’ll do the dishes honey.” he winks at you; a habit born from old behaviors. old habits die hard. and it’s no harm. he’s not being a creep. and how you smile and nod—it doesn’t seem like you mind either.

and as soon as his son wakes up, he’s out the door. he goes to his friend’s house and doesn’t invite you. instead of moping, you ask patrick to teach you tennis. you can let him hang out with his friends alone—you have the whole summer.

patrick is more than willing. and your tight purple tank top and little white skirt is so enticing. he likes how it flips up and down as you jump to hit his serves.

“you’re a natural!” patrick peeks at you over his sunglasses. he takes his shirt off and you can’t help but watch. you’ve wondered how his body looks underneath those loose t-shirts. he’s toned and tan and jumping into the pool now.

“come in! it’s too hot out there.” he splashes some water at you and you roll your eyes. you jump in and pretend patrick is your lover. that he cares like your boyfriend should. like he desires you. and you don’t realize patrick is thinking the same thing. jumping through hoops in his mind to ask himself if it would really be so bad to flirt with you, share a kiss or two with you. the fact he’s doing mental gymnastics at all shows it’s wrong. he pushes the desires back, fights it like it’s tug-of-war.

he has to go, he tells you. he has a lunch date. you try not to let your face fall. but you can revel in some alone time. as he leaves, you change into your bikini and grab a book you brought.

he comes back a few hours later; your boyfriend is still out.

“how was your date?” you ask patrick. he has to work to lift his eyes, to stop them from staring at your tits, at the sweat pooling in your navel, how your lips part to take a sip of water.

the date was okay, he tells you. he doesn’t tell you that he fucked her, back at her apartment while her kids were at their father’s house. the sex was good but patrick found himself thinking about your body being pinned beneath his instead of hers. he had to stop himself from your name falling from his parted lips as his cock stroked in and out of her. you’d be so tight, so thankful. he can tell his son doesn’t give you the attention you need. you deserve.

your boyfriend doesn’t come back until late at night. almost one in the morning. and you hear patrick yelling at him.

“are you fucking kidding me?” patrick slams the magazine that he was reading down onto the coffee table. "you invite your girlfriend to this house and you fucking ditch her all day?"

"dad--" he rolls his eyes. you're listening from your room, the guest room. you don't want to share a bed with him. he's drunk. you're mad at him. "why does it matter? i'm just having fun with my friends."

patrick is silent for a moment and you can't see them. he points at his son's neck, marked with hickeys. "she deserves so much better. you're not good at hiding it. i know it because im not either."

"exactly--you're not one to talk. cheating on mom with some fucking bimbo--" patrick grabs his shirt.

"this isn't about me. this is about you. i've felt bad about that for years. but you don't invite your girlfriend here and fucking ditch her."

"whatever." he goes to bed. slams the door. patrick knows you're not sleeping with him; he checked on you when you fell asleep after dinner.

and against his better judgment, he goes upstairs and opens the door. you're asleep so peacefully, hugging your little stuffed bear, snoring softly. you wake up, thinking it's your boyfriend. what does it say that you're relieved when you see it's his father instead?

"mr. zweig?" you rub your eyes. the name makes him hard. everything you do does.

he closes the door and locks it. he's sure his son is asleep by now.

"is he back now?" even with so much pent up anger towards him, you're still worried about him. patrick admires how caring you are.

"yeah. he's sleeping."

you don't ask patrick why he's there. you just peel the covers back as an invitation, and patrick joins you. his bare chest is warm against your skin and you feel his breath fanning into the crook of your neck.

"you deserve better, you know." he whispers it against your ear, half-thinking that you may have fallen back asleep.

you open your eyes and peer at him through your lashes. "i don't know better."

patrick tilts your chin up. "i can show you."

and he feels awful. his son is right about him. and can he be mad at his son for being so distinctly like his father? can he be mad at his son when he was secretly hoping for something like this to happen? for an excuse for him to knock on your door and tell you there's good men out there and one is right here and he can show you how a woman should feel, be treated, be pleasured.

maybe you don't realize what patrick means, but you don't pull away from the kiss. it's desperate because you are. for affection, for attention. the kind patrick's been giving you. he pries his mouth open, intent on pushing his tongue against yours, tasting the remnants of your toothpaste. you moan. you run your hand down his chest just to feel him, to see if this is real. he pulls you into him so your body is flush against his. you want him to suffocate you with his chest and his arms, the smell of his cologne still stuck on him from hours ago.

your hands tangle in his hair and you don't realize you're rutting against eachother. patrick's hands go under your top. he feels your nipples and you lean into his touch, cuddling your head into the crook of his neck, your back now pressed against his chest, half on top of him. his hands are so big and strong and he's breathing heavy into your mouth.

you want his hands to move down. you do it yourself, dragging his hand under your shorts. and when he feels how wet you are, all bets of stopping this before it goes too far are off. he's drunk off the smell of your vanilla lotion, the feel of your chapstick on his own lips as you whimper against him. he rubs circles over your clit and plunges his fat fingers into your cunt and you fuck yourself against them.

"mr. zweig--" there you go with that fucking name again. "fuck me--i want you to fuck me."

he could do the right thing and shake his head. say no, this is all so inappropriate. but you grab his erection and push his pajama pants down. he pulls your back so it's flush to his chest and he doesn't waste time, nudging his cock into your pussy. so tight, so ready. he holds your legs and pushes inside all the way. your head leans back into his shoulder. a mewl, and broken moan.

"god--fuck. this is what you deserve. this pretty pussy--" he rubs your clit, spitting on his fingers.

you're lost in it, in him. his balls are heavy, slapping against your ass as he fucks you, his fingers digging into the back of your thighs. for most of it, you're just staring at each other, at dilated pupils and red bitten lips, parted.

he holds your hips and you move them to feel him deeper. he's about to cum because he's telling you so. his sweat is sticking to your back and his spit is in your mouth. you love it all.

"cum in me--i want your cum."

he does what you want. he's a strong, older man but he can't say no to you and those pleading eyes, welled with tears. he's stretching you to the brim and he's cumming inside you and a part of you wishes he could get you pregnant and you could be his forever and ever.

[a-small-writer-in-a-big-world]

Your Friendly Neighbor 2

Pairing: John "Soap" MacTavish x reader

Warnings: fluff, allusion to social anxiety, reader has social anxiety, like a smidge of angst I think

Words: 2.4k

Synopsis: You want to talk to your new neighbor more...

You are currently reading part 2 of Your Friendly Neighbor

Two weeks had passed since you had met your neighbor John MacTavish and though you had realized that the neighborhood you moved into was closer together than you had originally thought, you never would’ve expected anyone to try to include you in.

However, in between the slow moments of your days when you weren’t going to the store to get the items you had forgotten during the move or when you didn’t have work, John was speaking to you as if he had known you for years. 

You didn’t mind. Whenever he talked to you, he was the one who would come up with what to talk about and would continue to talk about it even when you didn’t put that much input into it. Sometimes you would say something here and there, maybe say your opinion about the topic and then let him continue.

He always listened when you did. It seemed like whenever you opened your mouth he would turn all of his attention on you as if what you had to say was that important. 

You didn’t see an issue with it until late one night you thought about the conversation you had with him hours before. How he always seemed to approach you when he saw you, yet you never approached him.

Then you realized that all of the times he had spoken to you, he had initiated the conversations and suddenly you started to spiral.

You spent the entire night thinking about it. You moved to the new neighborhood to find peace and quiet, to avoid anything too loud and to try to disappear from the earth. You were fine being the neighbor that was forgotten, or at least you were fine with being there in the background without any friends. 

It was just easier that way…but your outgoing Scottish neighbor complicated things.

You liked him and it was pretty hard not to like him considering he had been the only one who hadn’t rolled his eyes or given you a dirty look when you cut conversations short or when you didn’t speak that much. 

He accepted you pretty quick and easy, even when he didn't know you, he didn’t seem to have an issue with the fact that you were quiet most of the time. 

It made you feel strange. You hoped it was a good strange, especially when you found yourself waiting for him when you left your apartment and that your heart beat just a little faster than normal when he looked at you.

He actually treated you like he wanted to speak to you. It was odd and scary to you, especially since to you it seemed like he was just having one sided conversations even when you listened to them intently, yet you couldn’t help the warm fuzzy feeling he gave you. Especially when he looked at you with soft eyes and gave you a big smile as if he looked forward to seeing you nearly everyday since he’s been home. 

So the fact that he always initiated the conversations felt unfair to you. You wanted to call him a friend and in the back of your mind you thought he would leave if you didn’t reach out soon. You had to let him know you wanted a friendship too.

You stood in your kitchen with leftovers in your hand and picked at the skin on your lips the next day.

You had made the decision that you were going to talk to him first today and after struggling to come up with a topic, you remembered that you had leftovers from the night before that you could give him. You figured that it would not only show that you at least cared about him in some way but that you also cared about the newly budding friendship you had.

Except you were anxious about giving it to him.

Your stomach was tied up in knots all morning and the more you thought about giving it to him, the more your body began to shake.

What if he didn’t like it? You had no idea what his meal preferences were and if he had already had lunch. What if he thought it was weird you were giving him food when you barely knew him? What if, what if…

You clenched your jaw and took a deep breath. Why was it so hard for you to just talk to people? Compared to John, who could strike up a conversation as easy as breathing, you felt pretty pathetic for not even being able to say hi to the other neighbors on the street.

It was just giving food to your neighbor, a mundane task, something that was easy and you knew that, yet for you it was like a near life or death situation.

“Come on…” You mumbled trying to hype yourself up. “Just do it.”

John caught your attention from inside his apartment by turning on his TV. He had gotten back from his run moments ago and usually after he had a shower he would watch whatever was on the channels on the TV. 

You felt like a creep listening to him on the other side of the wall but you couldn’t help it. You were so quiet compared to him and considering that the walls were thin enough that you could hear when he was just walking around, it was hard not to listen. 

You wouldn’t admit that to him though. 

He’d be eating soon. You’d miss your opportunity if you didn’t take it now but you were still so anxious.

He would’ve already given you his leftovers and spoke to you for a couple hours or so if he was the one doing this. You just had to get into his mindset and do the same thing. You just had to put all inhibitions away and be like your neighbor, confident and extroverted.

You walked out of your apartment and hopped onto his front porch with a surge of energy. However, as soon as you knocked on the door your stomach fell to your feet and your heartbeat went into your ears.

Maybe you should've just left it on the porch for him to find later-

John opened the door just seconds later and a smile split across his face immediately. You don’t think you’ve ever met someone who was that happy to see you and you felt your heart flutter even more.

“Hey, hen.” His eyes bounced around your face as he stood in the doorway. “How are ya?”

“I brought this for you.” You stuttered over your words, unable to answer his question before you held up the tupperware for him to see.

His face lit up with surprise and he gently took the leftovers from you. Warmth spread across his face and you thought you noticed his cheeks turning a little more pink as he inspected the food in the container with bright eyes. 

He seemed genuinely touched by it, especially when he snapped his head back at you with a grin across his face like you had just given him something that was more than just last night’s dinner. 

It barely took away the anxiety but at least you knew this was a good step forward.

“I would’ve had you move in sooner if it meant I got free food.” He grinned and laughed, causing you to let out a quick chuckle. “Thank you.”

“It’s nothing. I hope you like it.” You gave him a small smile, feeling accomplished that your plan worked.

“I’ll eat anything…you should join me.”

You blinked a couple times and stared at him in confusion. You didn’t expect him to want to eat lunch with you, you only expected him to take the food and talk to you for a couple moments before you both went your separate ways for lunch. 

You weren’t sure if you could come up with something to talk about since your entire mind had been on giving him the leftovers.

But this would be the best opportunity to start a conversation with him…

“We’ll eat in the garden.” He began almost excitedly. “It’s a mess in here but it’s a nice day.”

“Okay…” You didn’t argue as he went back into his apartment.

You awkwardly waited for him to return, unsure of whether or not you should go to the back garden before him or if you should wait. You chewed on your bottom lip before he reappeared again with two plates of reheated food and a grin still on his face.

You flashed him a quick smile of your own before you followed him to his garden. 

You hesitantly sat down on the somewhat dusty outside chairs and gratefully took the food from him when he handed it to you. You sat it on your lap, your stomach still up in knots as you watched him pull the other chair closer to you before he sat down.

You waited almost with bated breath for him to take a bite and as soon as he did he melted in his chair.

“Steamin’ Jesus, this is fucking amazing.” John began to eat the leftovers as if the food would disappear right in front of him. “How much do I have to pay you to get more?”

You couldn’t help but let out a surprised laugh that made his eyes soften while you shook your head. You felt some of the anxiety leave your body while your face heated up and you glanced between him and your plate.

“Nothing, I’ll just bring them over when I have them.”

“Only if you’ve eaten your fill.”

He posed it as a playful threat, though there was a look in his eyes that said he meant business if you decided to skimp out of meals just to give him leftovers. You quickly assured him that he wouldn’t have to worry about that before the two of you were stuck in conversation like normal.

It was easy…for him. 

You once again fell into your place of staying quiet and giving small input here and there. You didn’t hate what he was talking about and you were engaged in the conversation, but you couldn’t help but think about how you should be the one starting the conversations right now. 

You weren’t sure what to say, what to talk about and you tried your hardest to hide the pit in your stomach while under his gaze.

There was a lull in the conversation and you swallowed hard, ready to force the words out of your mouth but he beat you to it.

“Have you been to town yet?” He wondered and you shrugged, trying to hide the disappointment in yourself as he looked at you.

“Just for groceries.” You told him while you finished your plate of food but he shook his head. “What?”

“Cannae believe you’ve been missing out on everything else. Breaking my heart, hen.”

You raised an eyebrow at his dramatic display of disapproval which nearly made you chuckle as he looked at you as if you had just offended him. You nodded for him to go on and he gave you a fake sigh. 

“There’s so much more than the store, like the pub and the park.” He listed off the other things to do in town and you expected him to continue but when he didn’t you scoffed.

“Just the pub and the park?” You repeated skeptically and he smirked.

“There might be another pub, but I only go to one.”

You laughed in disbelief. You weren’t sure if he was teasing you or not and the smirk on his face didn’t help. He seemed to be adamant that the two things he listed were something not worth missing out on and you couldn’t help but find the absurdity funny. 

He really had a knack for making you laugh.

“I’ll have to go into town soon to look at the pub and the park then.” You said and he hummed deeply.

John went quiet and for a moment you didn't think anything of it, expecting him to come up with a new topic to talk about. However, when that didn’t happen you glanced up at him to see that he was fidgeting with his fork as if he was nervous. 

He looked at you and you saw uncertainty flash in his eyes.

“I could show ye around town.” He offered softly. “Make a day out of it and I’ll even repay you for lunch.”

“You don't have to do that.” You assured him but he clicked his tongue and shook his head. 

“Cannae let you give me food and then not repay you.”

You wanted to argue and you nearly did but he stopped you. You admired his generosity but you didn’t want to burden him with showing you around town as well as force him to buy you lunch. Not when you could do both of those things but just haven’t made yourself do it.

He was too adamant about it, too stubborn to let you refuse. He leaned forward and gave you a reassuring smile, keeping your attention and thoughts on him.

“Don’t worry yer pretty head about anything. Let me show you around, I’ll make it fun, promise.”

There wasn’t anything you could say to turn him down. There were no excuses and if you were being honest with yourself it sounded nice to visit the town with him. You’d get to explore and you would have more opportunities to initiate the conversations next time, to show that you really wanted this friendship to be from both sides. 

You could show him that you weren’t weird and that you could actually talk to people.

“Okay.”

John lit up and you mirrored his infectious smile. You don’t think you’ve ever been around someone who made you feel so relaxed and smile so effortlessly before. He was just so confident that it rubbed off on you and you couldn’t help but let it happen.

He took your empty plate with him and walked you back to your apartment despite it being just a few feet away while the two of you talked about the plan for tomorrow.

“I’ll pick you up in the morning.” He sent you a wink that made your cheeks heat up. 

“Don’t be late.” You teased back in an attempt to keep up the confidence.

His face softened and it seemed like he took the comment to heart even though it was a joke. There was a twinkle in his eye, something you couldn’t quite pin down as he stared at you for just a moment, his eyes bouncing around your face before he flashed you one last toothy smile before he walked back to his front door.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Link to part 3

A/N: So sorry for how long this took! Does this make sense, like at all lol? Idk I had to rewrite this a couple times so I'm hoping this is something. Sorry for it being short too

Tags: @cathnoneofyourbusiness @lillianastuff @sofasoap @okayyadriana @ryeillustrates @dead-cipher @regatoni1 @pampeop @abbiesxox @perfectus-in-morte @94pigeons @hannas16 @bajadotcom

[amadeness]

── .✦ Dating Bakugou Katsuki - general headcanons (x male reader, time-skip)

WORD COUNT: 1097

── .✦

It takes him an unbelievable amount of time to realize he likes you. But once he does, he’ll be extremely straightforward. (He believes it will be easier for him once he gets rejected.)

Somehow always secretly knew that he was into guys but decided to ignore it. He wasn’t really interested in relationships, to begin with.

He’s not gay. He just really likes you. A man. (His words. He doesn’t want to label himself.)

Invites you on a date but forgets to tell you that it’s a date and not just you two hanging out. Realizes in the middle of the night and then just casually drops: “Oh yeah, this is a date. I like you.” like it’s not that big of a deal. Gets upset when you stare at him in confusion after.

Might try to act romantic in the beginning, it’s what he always assumed relationships are about. But once he realizes it’s not working for him, he’ll drop it pretty quickly. (Doesn’t mean that he can’t be romantic on occasion. It’s just it only works when he’s not actually trying.)

Nothing is stopping YOU from being romantic tho, if you know what I mean. 

His love languages are food and fighting. He’ll try to feed you delicious food while complimenting anything you cook (unless you’re like… really bad. Then he’ll try to teach you.) 

Everything you two do is a competition. It was like that even before you started dating but now he doesn’t get as angry when you win, just pouty. He enjoys seeing you getting better at whatever you do, it’s also a great way to spend time with each other.

The big spoon. Feels like he’s keeping you safe like this.

He’s not easing his family into anything. He’ll just casually drop that he has a boyfriend at a family dinner and move on. The fact that it was after about half of a year of you two dating isn’t that surprising.

Will refuse to elaborate when anyone asks any following questions.

The squad had to figure it out on their own. Maybe after months of him acting weird, Denki accidentally crashes your date. Katsuki still refuses to say anything, so you’ll have to be the one to break the news.

Doesn’t really get jealous. Is more offended that this whoever thought they could take his place.

He really enjoys doing simple everyday tasks with you - think cooking, grocery shopping, and cleaning. Being a pro might make some of this a bit more complicated due to the possibility of being recognized in public, but that doesn’t stop the two of you.

Personally commissions matching pieces of jewellery for your three-month anniversary. A ring (that he wears on a chain around his neck) for him and whatever you prefer for you. Both pieces can be used as trackers in case of emergencies and are made from (almost) indestructible material. Will sulk if he sees you’re not wearing it.

── .✦ Pro-Hero!reader

On the fence about working with you. Seeing you and personally making sure that you’re doing alright is easing his anxieties. Sometimes he can get a bit distracted tho.

But don’t be mistaken. He knows how strong you are and that you can take care of yourself just fine, he probably wouldn’t be into you otherwise. That doesn’t mean he can’t be anxious.

You probably went to a different hero school. You first met during a joint training/license exam and when you guys graduated, you started working for the same agency.

He’s fascinated by your efficiency on the field and strategic thinking. Your first real conversation was him asking you to spar.

── .✦ Civilian!reader

Doesn’t matter if you have a quirk or not, he’ll insist on you learning self-defence and will teach you personally.

What attracted him to you was your fearlessness while facing any kind of danger. That doesn’t mean he isn’t angry any time you get in danger’s way without you needing to.

You two probably met during some kind of emergency. You did something stupid to help apprehend the villain or save another civilian. First, he screamed at you for being too reckless. Then he complimented you on your quick thinking and courage.

Later he found out that you frequent his favourite restaurant/bar and you started talking. When the squad found out, they decided to befriend you too and adopt you into the friend group.

── .✦ nsfw

A power bottom. Wants to feel the maximum amount of pleasure but doesn’t want to give up control.

Nothing happens until he’s the one feeling it. You’re horny but he’s not? Great, take care of it on your own.

Your first time together was awkward. He refuses to talk about it in advance and just… believes that you two will figure it out as you go. The night ends with a ruined orgasm, bruise and one pouty blond.

After that, he was finally convinced to have a proper conversation with you. He wouldn’t look into your eyes the whole time, but he was surprisingly straightforward about his likes and dislikes, carefully listening to everything you’ve said.

Praise kink, but no degradation, please.

Bondage is also a big, non-negotiable no for him. As well as breath play. (both giving and receiving)

I think he’d be against consciously hurting you in general.

On the other hand, he’s really into leaving hickeys and edging. (giving)

Really into quickies if he’s the one initiating. He refuses to do it in any “weird” or unsanitary places but around the house? His favourite was the kitchen counter. (He was strictly against it at first but then it just happened and he enjoyed it a bit too much. He had to disinfect the place three times before he was calm again. Now he sometimes gets horny while cooking because he keeps thinking of it.)

Starts out rough and fast. The more rounds, the gentler and slower he gets, craving more affection.

Expects and loves aftercare, even tho he’ll pretend he hates it at first and that you don’t need to fuss about him.

Help to clean both him and the bed up before burying under the fresh covers together to cuddle and talk. Doesn’t matter if it’s about the sex you just had or about your day. He just wants to listen to your voice while lying on your chest and tracing patterns into your naked skin.

Will act annoyed if he can’t walk the next day but you both know that he wouldn’t have it any other way.

── .✦ (please excuse any mistakes, i'm not a native speaker)

── .✦ © all rights reserved to amadeness. do not repost or translate without permission.

[scimagic]

Pride and Joy (Mr. Puzzles/Bi! Female! Reader)

───── ⋆ ⋅ ⋆ ⋅ ☆ ⋅ ⋆ ⋅ ⋆ ─────

After a conversation about sexual orientation, you ask Mr. Puzzles a bit of a heavy question about himself and realizations ensue.

Happy Pride Month!! I usually try to keep my content as reader neutral as possible (I don't like to assume things that the reader might not be!) but this is more self-indulgent than usual and I hope you forgive me for that! To celebrate this month, why don't I hit my f/o with the bisexual beam? Hope you enjoy!

"… Puzzles, no offense, like— at all, but do you think maybe you're… gay?"

The TV host sputters in surprise, "I— excuse you?"

"Again, no offense. But to me it kinda sounds like you… haven't really thought about it."

The TV grows silent, no doubt a frown taking the place of his smile. For once—instead of snapping back and waving away such a silly statement—he actually gives it a thought. A sparingly rare one.

He looks away with a nervous hum, shoulders slumping as you walk along the sidewalk. You both keep a slow pace, trying to refrain from tripping as you walk and keep a conversation that is surprisingly much more serious than you anticipated to have.

The leaves of the trees rustle and provide you shadow for your evening walk with your boyfriend, a walk you offered to have as a casual little date. You thought you could stop by stores to shop, or a cafe to sit down, but at the moment— your conversation turned into this. Identity questions, personal preferences, things to better know each other.

But maybe this one was a bit too far...

He was very open about his upbringing, sure, but it sounded like even he didn't know what he liked in people. You suppose that a life like that didn't have much room to explore things about ones self. Let alone explore partner preferences. Hell— you would say you're very lucky to even have had a chance to date him.

Regardless...

You let him gather his thoughts, silently waiting for his response. No use in rushing these type of things, after all. They take time. Otherwise it would be messy for both of you.

Puzzles turns back to the ground below, and like you guessed— with a nervous expression on his screen.

"It's… complicated. I've seen shows about it, but ah… they've never really spoken to me as such. Perhaps some actions… and some… other things— tsk— but! Hah! I mean! Only recently I've been shown the media I consume is not always true to the actual thing so what do I know!?" He sarcastically and painfully exclaims, a view that got shattered to him when you became friends, yet one he's starting to grow out of. He's aware it's for his greater good, but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt him still. To be lied to. To know your years of comfort were a lie.

He huffs angrily as he turns away again, shaking his head before glancing back at you.

"Am I..?"

"Are you? Only you can know that for sure, you might know the answer to that already..! You just… haven't realized it yet."

"…"

He grows silent again, nervously fidgeting with the cloth of his gloves.

"Then… maybe?" He shrugs. "I feel… something, yes. But— but I like you too..! As well… If I am— what would that mean for you? For us?" The host frowns, growing even more nervous at the thought of something happening to his first ever real relationship.

"I don't want to let you go just for this!" He waves his hands in front of him, exasperatedly motioning to your situation. You catch one of his arms, hooking it together with your own as you try to gently ground him.

"Hey—! Hey..! No, nothing has to happen to us! You can like both, you know?"

He takes a pause, looking at you as if you just told him the most confusing riddle ever known to man.

"Huh?"

"Yeah! I like both! I like boys and girls. I uh— have a preference for men but I still like pretty girls." You rub the back of your neck, smiling sheepishly at him.

"… Oh."

"Oh…"

The faintest of heartbeats beeps across his screen, tainting it with a light rose color as the line bounces where his cheeks would be.

"Huh… That…" he looks down at the ground with furrowed eyebrows, then looks back up at the horizon, "fits."

"Yeah?"

"Yes… Only— that's not the term, is it?"

"Ah, no. We're bisexual. You and I."

"You and I… Yes… Yes! I like that!" Puzzles beams happily, smiling wide at you as he squeezes your hooked arms.

"I like that very much."

[withahappyrefrain]

For the ship ask game!

48. …out of habit + a bob of your choice!

This prompt screams secret relationship, and what better Bob to do that with than Cobalt Eyes & Sweet Smiles Bob?

Bob knew he shouldn't be jealous. You weren't paying Jake any attention as he bragged about the latest air maneuver he mastered. Your eyes were focused on putting together a burger.

Soon enough, one of your fathers' old Top Gun classmates would whisk you away, no doubt to marvel at how much you had grown up, reminiscing on how you used to toddle around at this yearly cookout.

The worst part was Bob couldn't even be mad at Jake. Because he told Jake that all that happened after you two met was that he walked you to your car.

Which was partly true. Bob did walk you to your car. And then exchanged numbers after making out in said car. Which led to going on a date, which led to Bob secretly dating you.

Turns out, dating the daughter of your bosses is complicated.

Once the current mission was over, it would be easier to come forward. And decidedly less weird to think about.

Though Bob was still worried that once the secret was out in the open, he'd wake up the next day to find he's been deployed to Australia.

So all Bob could do was sip on his diet Coke as he tried not watch Jake fail at hitting on his girlfriend.

"I'm going to go...." Your eyes lingered on Bob. God, he looked so good in that blue shirt, it was unfair. But wouldn't that be too obvious?

"Somewhere that isn't here," you finished, walking away before Jake could even speak. The temptation to tell the blonde pilot you were dating Bob grew stronger everyday.

But Jake also had a big mouth and seemed like the kind of dick to mention something to one of your dads, if not both.

Technically, you weren't breaking their rule. They said no pilots and Bob wasn't a pilot. He was a WSO.

But it certainly made things awkward as Bob was working with Dad. And Pa was his boss.

Well, wanting to get away from Jake Seresin wouldn't raise anyone's suspicions.

Bob tried to hide his excitement when you stood next to him. He tried to act casual, but nothing could hide that smile of his.

Not that you mind. In fact, his sweet expression sent warmth throughout your body.

"Got tired of hearing how much better he is than everyone else?" Bob joked, causing you to nearly choke on your burger.

"The best don't brag, they let their work speak for themselves," you explained, a sly smile on your face. It was so hard not to make eye contact with him. Truly unfair how he had eyes bluer than the ocean, deeper than the sky-

"Is it too much if I asked you to accompany me to the Hot Dog station? Figured it would be nice to have someone who understands all the toppings." With that lopsided smile, how could you say no?

"It is an intimidating amount of choices," you chuckled as you led him over to the station.

"Alright, so I know it sounds weird, but the Olivier-Russian potato salad- that Pa makes is actually pretty good. The chili Slider makes is good, but unless you have a stomach of steel only take a little. Oh, and Hollywood says the candied jalapeños are mostly sweet but that's a lie. It's mostly spicy."

Bob couldn't help but be memorized as you rattled off facts about the various condiments. Whether it was about work, a personal belief, or yes, even hot dog toppings, you always spoke with such passion.

He loved it. He loved you, but that conversation is still a few steps away.

For now, Bob was happy to settle for counting down the days until he could hold your hand in a gathering like today's. Even if it terrified him.

Yes, technically, he wasn't a pilot. But considering who your dads were, a technicality didn't bring Bob much hope.

According to Bradley, the idea of you dating someone in the military, much less a naval pilot, had been vocally met with disdain.

But today Bob wouldn't focus on that. Instead, he focused on your bright smile and how cute you looked in that sundress.

"What's your go-to?" He asked, ready to take the valuable information to heart.

"Chili with some of the candied jalapenos and a dash of ketchup."

"No mustard?" He asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

You had to stifle a laugh, "No mustard."

"Alright, I trust ya." His words, laced with a slight twang sent warmth throughout your body.

Without saying a word, you took the ladle from the chili bowl, serving it onto his hot dog. You gave him a sweet smile as an explanation, one that Bob took happily.

"Thanks darlin'," He leaned in to peck your lips, neither of you thinking about it.

It wasn't until he broke away to grab the ketchup that you both froze, realization washing over you.

Fuck.

"I'm gonna, um, go." You said quickly, grabbing your plate.

"Uh yeah, good idea," Bob quickly put down the ketchup, turning around to walk away from you. His face was bright red as he practically ran back to Mickey and Natasha who were currently chatting up with some of Pete and Tom's old classmates.

You looked around, everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. No one standing in shock.

Alright, good. That was a good sign.

"Hey, did you see that?" You asked Bradley, who had been roped into grill duty.

"See what?" Your pseudo-brother shrugged, his eyes remaining on the grill, unaware that you were on the verge of having a panic attack.

"Bob and I kissed. It was an accident, like neither of us thought about it! It just felt natural and we forgot where we were!" You hissed.

Bradley was the only one who knew. The first time Bob spent the night at your place, the universe decided that Bradley should be the one to pick you up for family brunch. In hindsight, better he than one of your dads. Thankfully, you had enough dirt on Bradley to buy his silence.

"Oh," Bradley shrugged, as if it was nothing. Truthfully, he didn't know why you two insisted on keeping it a secret. It wasn't like you were dating Hangman (thank fucking God for that).

"I didn't notice anything," He said, which accurately reassured you.

"Although...." His words made the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

"Although?" You gritted through your teeth.

"I mean, that would explain why Slider was running into the house. I thought he just had to piss."

God. Dammit.

"You good Bob?" Mickey asked upon seeing his fellow WSO, beet-faced and nervous.

"Huh? Oh! Me? Yeah, I'm great. Swell actually!" Bob said, unconvincingly.

Natasha knew Bob was dating you. It was obvious when you showed up to one of the beach football games. How anyone else failed to notice was beyond Nat.

But she knew not to say anything. Instead, she gave Bob a raised eyebrow. Whatever it was (concerning you), she knew it was better to ask in private.

"Lieutenant Floyd? May I speak with you in private?"

Bob's blood ran cold as he turned to face Captain Mitchell, who had his arms crossed.

"Um, I..." He could pretend to pass out. There was no current or former medic here. So he would just need to play dead as if his life depended on it, because it did. Claim it was from the heat. Yeah. Blame the sun, he was pale enough to do so.

But his knees were locked. Bob couldn't run, couldn't pretend to pass out. Fuck, it was too early to fake food poisoning.

So instead, all he could muster up was a weak nod as his legs carried him inside the Mitchell-Kazansky house.

He was fucked. Utterly fucked. He should just leave now so he can go pack up for Australia. Would he even get that far? He had been sneaking around with their daughter, death was probably the only option.

Even if your dads didn't kill him, your honorary uncles will. Fuck, was his will updated? Would you even get anything? Well, Bob did tell Bradley to give you the ring in his drawer should anything happen to him. It was his grandma's, given to him so he had a ring to propose and-

Why was the Admiral whose callsign was literally "Iceman" hugging him?

"Thank God it's you. We thought she was seeing Seresin."

Oh.

That explains a lot.

"Um, no offense sir, but you raised your daughter to have better standards than Seresin," Bob barely got out, now receiving a hug from the much shorter Captain.

"We knew she was seeing someone. We're all glad it's you."

When you ran into your childhood home, you were expecting many things. Mainly Bob's head on the floor.

Receiving hugs from your dads was not on the list, but man was it a welcoming sight.

Bradley shrugged, "I don't know why you were so worried about them knowing."

You rolled your eyes, "The same reason why you haven't told them you have a fiancé."

Wait shit, that was not supposed to be said out loud.

"You have a what?"

[livwritesstuff]

inspired by a reply @gregre369 left on yesterday’s post. this is why i love this site so much bc i had this idea floating aimlessly around my brain for such a long time and then someone says something that just connects all the dots for me so - much thanks <3

tw: brief reference to domestic violence

One of parenthood’s biggest surprises (in Eddie’s opinion, anyway) was how easy talking to his and Steve’s daughters about why his parents aren’t in his life was.

He’d figured it’d be hard to figure out exactly how to explain that his mother's death was the end result of domestic violence caused by his father, who had died in prison twenty years later – but…that about covers it, honestly. Sure, the exact rendition of the story the girls hear varies as they get older, but…it’s pretty straightforward, actually.

Explaining Steve’s situation turned out to be way more complicated for…well, for a lot of reasons, and the fact that his parents are still alive and breathing and choosing to not be around didn't help things at all.

It also didn't help that the girls totally saw Jim and Joyce as Steve’s parents, but it did lead to a conversation that Eddie doesn't think he'll ever forget:

It happened when he was passing through the kitchen to see that Steve was cooking with Moe.

"What're we up to in here?" he asked.

At four years old (she’s actually almost five), Moe has yet to outgrow a phase of picky eating that had started out right around her second birthday. Steve is trying out a new method where he involves Moe in the cooking process in the hopes that she then actually wants to eat the product of her hard work when it’s done. He's seeing varying levels of success.

“We're making burgers,” Moe said, “Poppy’s recipe.”

Eddie looked at Steve skeptically, “Poppy Jim or Poppy Joyce?”

Steve rolled his eyes, “I’m telling Joyce you said that.”

And then he added, “Jim.”

Satisfied, Eddie continued on his way.

“How come you call your dad Jim?” Moe asked.

And that had Eddie pausing in the hallway just out of their line of sight.

“Well, Poppy’s not my dad, sweet pea,” Steve replied.

“Did you not have a dad?”

“I did have a dad – I do. He lives in Indiana with my mom. We don't really talk to each other anymore though."

"Why?"

"When I was younger, I decided that they didn’t take care of me like I needed them too, and Jim and Joyce stepped in to be like my parents instead."

It's not completely accurate, Eddie knows (and he doesn't love the way Steve is shifting culpability away from his parents because that shit was fully on them, but whatever; it's his story and he can tell it however he wants), but just like how their daughters don't have a completely accurate picture of what happened to Eddie's mom either, they know what they need to know for now and they'll hear more down the line.

“But what did your mom and dad do?” Moe asked.

"Well, you know how Daddy and I read to you and play with you and put you to bed and make food for you – it was a little different because I was older and I needed different stuff than that, but…”

Eddie watched Steve look back at their oldest daughter, watched him see the look of confusion in her big brown eyes.

“They didn’t do that?” Moe asked, sounding perplexed.

Steve shook his head, and Moe continued to look at him as if he might suddenly tell her he was joking.

“That’s crazy,” Moe finally said, and Steve let out a laugh.

“It is kinda crazy, isn’t it?” he agreed, “That’s why I love being your dad so much, because it’s actually so easy to want to take care of you. Even though you sometimes like to make it hard on purpose, right?”

“Yeah,” she grinned proudly, “Like when I make you snuggle me more at bedtime and you fall asleep by accident and then the kitchen is messy in the morning."

"Uh-huh," Steve said, poking her in the side so she giggled, "Exactly like that."

"You're a good dad," Moe told him.

"You think?" Steve asked as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

"The best dad."

“The best?” he repeated, “Can’t let Daddy hear that.”

“He can hear it.”