#AND ALSO THEIR DADS SAID THEY COULD SO THERE

[authorscurse]

Dad!Sukuna who allows himself to get bossed around by his own kid.

Sukuna Ryomen was known to be notorious and merciless in the business world. He was feared by all —his employees and business rivals alike— but no one ever thought the big bad Sukuna Ryomen would get bossed around by a literal toddler.

The heavy sounds of his footsteps as he enters the building make everyone shiver in their seats. Employees breathing heavily and hair standing waiting for their boss to grace them with his scary presence.

Click

Click

Click

As the doors open, expecting the rough voice of Sukuna they were greeted by

"Good morning," the voice was so tiny and soft that it made everyone whipp their heads towards their boss. Eyes widen to find a toddler sitting on top of Sukuna's shoulders, her clothes similar to her father's crip suit.

Waving her small hand in the air while Sukuna turns towards his office. No one dared to mention the vast array of decorative hair clips littering Sukuna's pink hair.

The employee takes a deep breath before knocking on Sukuna's door, hands slightly shaking while holding on to the file of the week's report that Sukuna was asking for.

"Come in," Sukuna answers. The employee enters his office to see Sukuna sitting on his usual chair doing his work while having his daughter also working on her work (she was colouring her colorbook).

"Sir, this is the report you've been asking for," the employee said, placing it on the side of his desk. "Just leave it there and go," Sukuna says, not even glancing up from his laptop, but his daughter did. She gave the employee one of her wide-eyed smiles and a cute wave of her hand, which the employee certainly reciprocated.

"Papa, pop," Sukuna's daughter said while repeatedly hitting her father with her palm. The employee's eyes slightly widen, expecting Sukuna's short temper to get the best of him but instead their boss just opens one of his drawer and pulls out a strawberry lollipop. "Nuh uh! Grape, papa!" Sukuna silently looks into the drawer and picks up a grape lollipop for his kid.

"Open, please," Her small voice says and once again without a single peep Sukuna opens the lollipop and hands it to his daughter that happily sucked on the sweet treat. What made the employee really have their eyes widen was how Sukuna tenderly places a soft kiss on his kid's forehead.

"What the fuck are you still here for?" Sukuna asks, finally glancing at the wide-eyed employee. Before the employee answers over her stutter Sukuna's daughter was quick to hut her father again with her tiny palm. "Bad word, papa! Not nice!" His daughter said, eyebrows knitted together and a pout decorating her face. "Say sorry!" She said, pointing at the shaking employee.

The employee starting to think she might get fired didn't expect for Sukuna to actually apologize. "I'm sorry," Sukuna says. "It's okay sir, it's nothing," the employee just gave off an awkward smile before rushing out the door. This time, the whole office was murmuring about the recent encounter of Sukuna with his daughter. And how the only one could tame the wild beast named Sukuna Ryomen was his own daughter who had his face.

The whole office was busy working on their own jobs until the little toddler with red eyes and bright pink hair walks in, holding her grape lollipop in hand.

"Hi, baby, where you going?" One of the female employees asks, deciding to entertain the girl who seemed invested in the work of everyone else.

"Papa get food for me. I get nuggets!" The little girl squealed happily. One by one the employees start turning their attention to Sukuna's cute daughter instead of their work.

"Oi, what are you doing there?" The loud voice of Sukuna Ryomen echoed through the walls of the office and had everyone freeze in their place. "Told you to stay in the office," Sukuna took no notice at the employees who had gathered around his daughter.

"Papa slow! Hungry!" The cute pink haired toddler walked towards her father and raised her hands up. "Carry, papa!" The toddler demanded, employees staring with wide eyes as the two interact.

Sukuna sighs and leans down to pick up his daughter, not both his arms were occupied. One with a box of chicken nuggets and one with his daughter who was fixing the decorative clips on his hair.

The two silently walked back to Sukuna's office leaving the employees who were watching speechless.

As the day came to an end, everyone was just hoping that the little cute baby Sukuna brought with him today would come again tomorrow so they would continue having a soft and silent Sukuna instead of the explosive angry boss they have.

The soft click of heels echo in the office, some turned to see a beautiful lady dressed in a sundress. "He's in his office, ma'am," Sukuna's secretary says to which you thanked and smiled. Eyes followed your every move as you walk into Sukuna's office.

Moments later, the three of you walked out the office. Ryomen carrying his daughter's bag on his shoulder and yours in his hand, following you and your daughter like an obedient puppy.

"Mama, papa bought me nuggets!" Your daughter says happily. The happiness in her voice made your smile warmly and kiss her cheek. "Papa was behaved today wasn't he?" You asked and your daughter nodded.

"Say bye-bye to papa's friends," you say and turn your daughter to look at the room filled with employees. "Bye bye!" Your daughter says waving her hand and everyone else waved back at her.

"Ryo, say bye," you ordered your husband with a sweet smile. Your husband sighs and waves goodbye to his employees before following you and your daughter out the door.

Turns out while Sukuna Ryomen ordered people around in the business world while injecting fear into their veins his own wife and daughter bossed him around in true life.

[theorthoslemonsog]

No this is real. For the longest time ever I was like, I couldn't possibly have autism or adhd because it says here they take thing literal and I'm a silly little zarcasms machine and then I remembered all the times I used to bring my dad the ketchup when he said he needed it so he could eat my kneecaps. Also when I devised a plan to lean squirrel so I could live because he kept saying he was gonna throw me onto the roof.

When I was younger and researching the autism diagnosis criteria and symptoms, I thought “oh I couldn’t POSSIBLY be autistic.” Because when I read “takes everything literally” I thought it literally meant EVERYTHING and I was like “I don’t take EVERYTHING literally, just most things!” And I just realized the other day that it didn’t actually mean EVERYTHING and that was an overstatement.

[inbabylontheywept]

go to the caverns, the kartchner caverns, roughly an hour southeast of tucson

in the throne room you shall encounter the great yuan

you must fight him, for it is your destiny

cross the fields of soda-straws and fried-eggs and shields. unleash your fury upon him. there will be those who try to hold you back. they will speak gibberish about your disruption of the delicate balance of the great yuan's domain. you must pay them no heed. you must destroy the great yuan.

we depend on you.

The first time I traveled to Tucson I was in a car full of zooted children. I would've preferred being one of those children, but alas, any medication that makes me sleep also makes me sleepwalk, and after an incident where I tried to climb out of the car while it was still going sixty (thank God for seatbelts) I was condemned to a childhood of car trip sobriety.

(You may think that's not such a terrible fate, but you've probably never experienced anything else. Ambien, used correctly, is time travel. And time travel is awesome.) 

Still, involuntary consciousness had its perks. It meant I alone got to spend some extra quality time with my dad, which was always something in short supply growing up. Until third grade or so he worked in the ER, which gave him an absolutely hellish amount of hours. He'd mostly just come home and sleep, which meant that I personally did not know him that well, but my mom hyped him up so much that I always really wanted to. 

So days like that were always kind of exciting to me. A chance to meet the myth. 

I can't remember exactly what me and my dad were talking about - something to do with our final destination in Mexico. But at some point, we awoke my little brother. 

(Waking people up when they're on ambien is always trouble.)

I remember starting when I felt one of his small cold hands reach up to grab my shoulder. The dad did the same, and it jerked the car a little bit - startling someone whose hands are on the steering wheel has its risks. We both turned to look at him, but he wasn't even looking at us. He was leaning over the console, staring into the red and purple sunset ahead, watching the rolling skyline of Tucson like it was drowning in dreams. Like he was drowning in dreams. 

We waited for him to speak. It took a while. Normal social conventions don't apply to people when they're unconscious. The fact that he could talk was just some broken line code in the fabric of the world. 

"Wow," he said at long last. 

"Beautiful, isn't it?" my dad replied. And my little brother shook his head like he just heard the silliest thing in the world. 

"It's terrible," he said."Awful. Is Mexico always like this?" 

"We're still in America" my dad said back. 

My little brother squinted into the sunset, doubt and derision etched into his face. After a few seconds, both emotions softened, and he nodded in wonder. 

"Eagle feathers," he said, chuckling softly. Like he'd just solved some clever little riddle. Then he fell like an angel into something deeper than sleep. 

---

(There is a word for angels that fall.)

---

The second time I went to Tucson, I hid from the sun. 

You'd be surprised how easy it is to do down there. Society accommodates it in ways you just won't find anywhere else. When it's 109 outside with single digit humidity, of course you stay indoors. Of course the outdoor markets open at 6 pm, and of course they don't close until 11. Of course. You make the sun mean enough, and everyone becomes a vampire. 

So I roamed the streets at night, kicking up red gravel, watching coyotes wander in between the sea of strip malls. Strip malls are such an Arizonan atrocity. Nobody builds up. The reason the city isn't walkable isn't sidewalks. It's the sun. And you can't solve the sun, so you might as well lean into driving. Mash the whole city flat and crawl through the dust like rattlers. 

(I met a man once, by the canals, that said the strip malls were some sort of American curse for our ancestors including Johnny Appleseed. There's one God in this world, he said, and it's the god of don't-eat-apples. But then we invented apple pie and gave it to everyone. So this is our hell.)

Still. It made the days long down there. Lurking at night and hiding all day gives you something like cabin fever. I needed something to do outside. Something that was outside, but also, somehow, inside. What's inside and outside at the same time? What kind of klein-flask ouroboros nonsense fits that bill?

Kartchner caverns. 

---

I wouldn't say the caves were like walking into Dante's hell - more like finishing the journey. At some point in my life, I'd blown past limbo, lust, gluttony, greed, and anger. I'd spent two decades plus change living in the fires of heresy. Every layer past would only get colder. 

And each step into that cave did. 

My tour guide and metaphorical psychopomp guide was a friendly old man. Familiar in the way that all old people feel familiar to me. I view the world more as a pile of metaphors. He viewed it primarily as water-soluble minerals. 

It was a good work dynamic. 

"These here," he said, gesturing to a long, slender series of impossibly frail stalactites, "are called soda straws."

"Hot damn," I said, and he nodded good naturedly. 

"They're pretty fun aren't they?"

I wasn't sure if fun was the word that made the most sense for it. But I was charmed, and we went further, and he pointed out more formations. 

"Behold!" he said. "Fried eggs!" 

And there were fried eggs. 

"Behold!" he said. "A shield!"

And lo, there was a shield. 

We kept walking, deeper, and deeper into the cave. At the surface, it had been hot enough for my sweat to dry into a stinging white powder. Down here it was cold enough to see my breath. The feeling of descending into hell was replaced with the feeling of being swallowed by some ancient, fossilized serpent. 

And then that began to show up in the formations. 

"We call this serpent-stone," he said, gesturing to an expanse of wall. 

And all I could see was the snake that was swallowing me. 

I don't know why or how that broke the spell. But it did. I'd been walking for hours in the dark, following that man. I'd recognized him many times. It just took that moment for that recognition to be allowed. 

"I've met you before," I said. "I met you on the canals once. Johnny Appleseed." 

He looked at me, and I saw what my little brother saw that first time. Something trapped here, in the dark. A feathered serpent ten miles long. Dead and alive, the same way my brother was dreaming but awake. The first apple-eater. Something more afraid of the sun than I was. 

"You are so close," he said. "It's only a few miles further." 

"Close to what?" I said, and he grinned teeth too sharp for a human mouth. 

"To being like us," he said. "To sleepwalking forever." 

Nothing good comes from waking the dreamer once they're asleep. At best, the dream ends. At worst, it doesn't. 

Running away would've required turning my back on it, and I knew - I knew - that my vision was the only thing locking it in place. I made it real by looking. I made it real by seeing. As long as my eyes were open, it was my dream. 

So I did not run. 

I grabbed the man. I looked him in the eyes, and my hands wrapped around his neck, and he fought like a beast. His teeth flashed as somewhere just out of reach, the flashright rolled, and his tongue stuck out, forked like a snakes, and where a normal man would've turned redder, and redder, and redder, he turned greener, and greener and greener. His neck narrowed and he stretched and wound and twisted until the hands beating against my arms were wings, and the man was a snake and I did not blink once until it stopped moving. Then, and only then, did I take my eyes off the thing and run, shivering, back to the light. 

---

I hadn't seen it before. But the cave was a dead thing. Inert. Like the sloughed off skins I'd find on hikes. A memory of something scary, but not the thing itself. I thought I'd be safe when I made it to the top. But the first thing I saw when I stepped into the light, the first thing I saw looking across the long, flat run of desert - was the other half of what I saw in the caves. 

I'd killed the body. But I hadn't killed the soul. That still danced in the sky. The dead part of quetzalcoatl lay in the dark, dreaming it was alive. And the living part flew in the sky, burning and bright and deadly. A fire unending. 

The month after that, I moved to Utah. And I've never looked back. 

[adoresia]

꣑ৎ contains ★ Fluff ft Satoru Gojo :: dad gojo , domestic fluff , comfort moments , gojo is acting like a man child , light humour . W/C ★ 0.4k

˙🧷 ̟ Sia here ! :: Based off of this request from @alixezae !! Sorry for the long wait 😣 Had to put these in queued order because tumblr hates me apparently but I could never forget thank you very much for the request 😋😋😋 also not really a part two of morning monologue but still.

˙🏷️ ̟ Satoru’s masterlist | JJK masterlist | Main masterlist

Satoru was sat on the couch, his baby nestled against his chest, small fists clinging to his shirt. His normally smug grin was nowhere to be found — replaced instead with a dramatic pout as he watched you move around the room, effortlessly drawing the baby’s attention without even trying. You must be wondering how we got here.

It had been weeks since he’d noticed the shift. At first he thought of it as a silly coincidence. Babies went through phases right? But this definitely was not a phase. Your baby loved you in a way that made him feel like he wasn’t even there, you could say. It left THE Gojo satoru — the most charismatic person in existence — relegated to the sidelines.

He tried everything. From silly faces to floating toys. Peekaboo could only go so far — nothing seemed to work. His precious baby would giggle politely and act humoured for a few seconds, but then immediately looked out for you again.

It was funny at first but now it’s humiliating, Satoru would say its not fair how much his baby gave you so much attention so much that eventually it made you wonder if you gave birth to two big babies instead of just one.

“You’ve bewitched him,” he muttered, his voice low and accusatory. You glanced over your shoulder, brow raised. “Satoru- What are you talking about?”

“Satoru junior,” he gestured dramatically to the tiny bundle on his chest “We were supposed to be each others number one fan. But he treats me like some guy at the park trying to lure little kids into the back of his van with dorritos.”

“Firstly, I dont remember agreeing on such a name. Secondly, You kinda do” you teased, leaning down to press a kiss to your baby’s head. “But I guess he just loves me more.”

Your baby babbled in agreement.

Satoru groaned flopping back onto the couch like the weight of the world had just crushed him. “This is betrayal on the highest level.”

Before you could respond your baby stirred, letting out a soft — sleepy whimper. And without missing a beat, Gojo shifted them against his shoulder while his hand instinctively pat his back in gentle, rhythmic motions.

You watched as the tension melted from his face, replaced by something softer and more genuine. Your little baby’s tiny hand clung to his shirt, his breathing evened out as he drifted back to sleep.

Satoru looked up at you, his expression smug once more. “See? I’ve still got it.”

“That was a pity nap,” you said grinning.

“Stop trying to steal my credit,” he huffed.

And as your baby nestled closer to him, Gojo decided that maybe being second place wasn’t so bad — especially when it came with moments like these.

[reallyromealone]

Title: sleep overs

Fandom: DC

Characters: Young justice, Bruce, Jason, dick

Fic type: fluff

Pairings: Bruce x reader, Connor x dick

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, trans reader, ftm reader, pregnant reader, baby Jason, tween dick

Notes: fucking with the timeline and doing what I feel for the sake of plot

Summary: Young justice gets to have a sleepover at Wayne manor and Connor finds out something

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

(Name) Watched as the young justice league came in with sleeping bags and night bags and wandering into the livingroom, the tweens excited to have a night of movies and games "my aunty sent me with this for you, she says thanks for the date night!" Wally said happily and (name) chuckled but accepted the brownies, he and Bruce would be enjoying these upstairs and of course leaving some for Alfred.

"There's pizza and drinks in the dining room" (name) said kindly, knowing if that boy was anything like his uncle that the amount they bought would barely be enough, that being ten large pizzas for the group of them. Jason waved in Bruce's arms as everyone piled into the livingroom "I always forget how rich you are" Connor whistled at the huge tv "there's also snacks in the kitchen if anyone isn't feeling for pizza and such" (name) said and Jason wiggled out of his dad's hold, the 1/12 year old wanting to see these new people and specifically his big brother who was chatting with M'gaan and Kaldur'ahm about whatever it is.

"Didi!" Jason yelled excitedly and dick grinned at his brother "whats up, little man?" Dick let the boy crawl into his lap, the boy looking at M'gaan and began babbling and making sounds "well I think you have a very cool stuffed animal too" she said honestly and dick looked confused "I read his mind, he wanted to inform me about how he has a stuffed toucan named toukie and it's not real and it's his best friend"

"Jason, come on sweety it's time for your night snack!" Jason heard (name)s voice and abandoned the group, stumbling and using his brother's friends as support to get to his parents, Artemis chuckling when the babe held onto her for a second to stable himself.

The parents left the kids alone, planning to check on them after they get Jason to bed "now, do you want some milk or do you want apple juice?" Heavily heavily watered down apple juice but apple juice none the less, Bruce settling Jason on the counter and kissing his tiny socked feet to make him laugh while (name) grabbed the bedtime snack "mooooo!" Jason yelled while the other grabbed soft baby snacks and a filled bottle of milk "good job!" Jason grabbed it on his own and took a drink "we have like ten kids in our house" (name) said softly while watching Jason enjoy himself "why did we agree to this again?" Bruce asked cuddling his husband and (name) smiled "because you love your son"

"I do love him"

Jason let out a soft burp and looked at (name) with raised arms "let's go get you ready buddy, we're gonna have our own movie night!" He cheered and Bruce led them off to (name) and Bruce's room, Bruce pulling the boys pacifier from his pants pocket and popped it in his mouth. Changing the boy into his pajamas, the two listening to the tweens giggling and having fun downstairs "when you're bigger, you can have sleepovers too" (name) said to the boy who was already getting sleepy, all he needed was a nice cartoon to fall asleep.

"Why don't you two get comfortable and I'll go grab our stuff" that stuff being the wine and a few slices of pizza, Bruce saluting (name) off jokingly while letting his babe rest in his shirtless chest, knowing the contact soothed the boy. (Name) Went to the kitchen and grabbed the wine, listening to the loud giggles and games and thankful he got Alfred those noise cancelling headphones, wanting the man to get a such sleep as he could. It was nice seeing his son have so many friends, they were playing that racing game Dick was so obsessed with from what it sounded like "oh, hi Connor" (name) said softly to the teen, Connor always appreciated now gentle (name) was with him and took the time to talk with him."how's the farm? How's Clark these days? Are you doing good in school?" He asked and Connor smiled sheepishly "farms good, dad recently adopted a new livestock dog we named lady" he said taking a sip from his soda and (name) listened with rapt attention"Clarks good, him and Lo wanna take me to Disney this year for my birthday"

"Oh you will love that, how's school?"

"It's fine, I hate matb but everything else is pretty good"

"Well I'm glad you're going well..." (Name) Doted a bit and Connor smiled, (name) was like a second parent to him, the man fought tooth and nail and even went as far as to go to the Kent house with all the things he could need to help the Kent's ease caring for another child, Mrs. Kent chuckled at the others caring nature.

"And what's this I hear from the grape vine of you dating my son?"

"You know about that?" Connor said meekly and (name) chuckled "I know everything, if he ever acts like an ass you tell me"

"Of course sir, also congrats on the pregnancy!" He pointed to (name)s stomach "whatcha.... Whatcha mean there"

"I hear th heartbeat.... Oh wait... You didn't know did you?" Connor said softly and (name) let out a nervous chuckle "nope but thank you, saves a trip to the doctor" he pinched the tweens cheek and put the wine away "now go hang out with the tests, it's a sleepover for you all"

Connor left promptly and not without hugging the man who chuckled "thank you Connor"

When (name) returned to the bedroom and Jason was already in his nursery asleep, Bruce's ability to put these kids to sleep was truly magic "where's the wine?" Bruce asked while (name) crawled into bed "your dick is too powerful" he grumbled, pulling off his binder and Bruce raised an eyebrow "want to elaborate?"

"Get ready for baby three, daddy" (name) said simply and Bruce froze "another one?"

"Yup, we really need to start using condoms" (name) pat the others shoulder "good news, for the next nine months I can't get double pregnant!"

"Why are you like this?"

"You chose to marry me"

"And I haven't regretted it once"

(Name) Kissed him lovingly and opened his arms, letting Bruce be little spoon and snuggle (name)s chest "I checked the kids, Kal will narc on them if they do things they shouldn't" (name) kissed Bruce's forehead and the two put on a show, recently they got into fishing shows.

"I love you..."

"I love you too pretty boy"

[bestalbertcamuslover]

Three-Hour Workout Wonders

↳ Masterlist

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✯ pairing:  Franco Colapito x Reader ✯

✯ content warnings: none✯

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Her strict parents had started to grow suspicious of her gym visits. Every time, she would leave the house and return about three hours later. Strength training, treadmill sessions—whatever she was supposedly doing, three hours seemed excessive. She was eighteen, but her parents still kept a tight grip on her life, a frustrating consequence of choosing not to study abroad and remaining under their roof.

With her gym tote slung over her left shoulder, she headed out the door, an excited, almost giddy smile lighting up her face.

“Going to the gym?” her dad called out from the kitchen.

“Yeah,” she replied, her hand already on the door handle.

“When will you be back?” he asked, his tone casual but with an edge of curiosity.

She shrugged. “Maybe in an hour or so.”

His raised eyebrow was all the accusation he needed. “Really? Because lately, it’s been more like three,” he said, his tone growing more suspicious.

“I don’t know,” she shot back, defensive. “Depends on how busy it is, okay?”

“Okay, okay,” he said, backing off.

As she stepped outside, her smile returned, brighter this time, relief washing over her now that he hadn’t pressed further. The grin didn’t fade the entire walk to the gym, and adrenaline coursed through her veins as she approached the building.

Her workout began like any other Friday routine: lower-body exercises followed by some incline walking on the treadmill—nothing too intense. But her eyes darted to her watch every few minutes, not because she was tired, but because she was waiting.

Two hours later, he appeared. Franco.

Their eyes met across the gym, a fleeting but meaningful. Without hesitation, she pressed the stop button on the treadmill and stepped off, heading discreetly toward the restrooms. A few minutes later, Franco followed, careful not to attract unwanted attention.

His lips met hers in a hungry kiss, his hands resting on her hips, pulling her impossibly close. She wrapped her arms around his neck as the kiss deepened.

“Why don’t we go to my place?” he murmured.

“My parents have my location,” she managed between breaths.

Franco’s hands skimmed up her sides, warm and steady, before settling just beneath her ribs. His lips found her jaw first—soft, slow kisses trailing down to the sensitive spot beneath her ear. She shivered, her fingers curling against his shoulders.

“Also, I don’t have much time,” she whispered. “My parents are starting to get suspicious.”

“You’re making this really difficult,” he muttered, his voice low and rough against her skin.

She swallowed hard, tilting her head to give him more access. “Difficult how?”

He exhaled, his breath warm as his mouth moved lower, pressing a kiss just above her collarbone. “Difficult to let you walk out of here like nothing happened.”

Her heart pounded against her ribs, her fingers slipping into his curls and tugging lightly. He groaned softly at the feeling, his grip on her tightening.

“Then don’t,” she whispered.

Franco huffed a quiet laugh, pulling back just enough to meet her gaze. His eyes were dark, focused, hungry. “You know you don’t have a choice.”

She did. And yet, the thought of stepping away from him, of returning home like she hadn’t just had his hands all over her, sent a sharp pang through her chest.

So she kissed him again—slow, deep, lingering. His hands slid down to her waist, pulling her flush against him, and he backed her gently against the wall, his lips never leaving hers.

He kissed her like he was making up for all the time they didn’t have. Like he could stretch these stolen minutes into something bigger, something permanent.

Her back hit the cool tile, a contrast to the heat of his body pressed against hers. He tilted her chin up, lips tracing the line of her throat, and she bit down on her lower lip, her breath hitching.

“Franco,” she murmured, almost like a warning—but not really.

His teeth grazed her skin before he soothed the spot with another kiss, his grip tightening on her hips. “I know,” he muttered. “You have to go.”

She nodded, though neither of them moved.

He sighed against her skin, then pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against hers, his fingers ghosting over the hem of her t-shirt. “This is torture.”

She smiled softly, brushing her lips over his. “A little.”

His eyes flicked down to her lips, then back up. “I hate it.”

“I know.”

Franco sighed again, but this time, his hands slid down, giving her waist one last squeeze before finally—reluctantly—stepping back.

“Text me when you get home,” he muttered.

She nodded, trying not to let the disappointment settle in her chest. “I will.”

He watched her for another moment, as if memorizing her, then smirked slightly. “And next time—”

“What?” she asked, arching a brow.

His grin widened, wicked and knowing. “Wear something I can take off.”

Heat flooded her cheeks, but she rolled her eyes, shoving him lightly before grabbing her tote.

“You’re impossible.”

He caught her wrist before she could fully step away, tugging her in for one last, searing kiss. When he finally let her go, his voice was softer, more serious.

“But I really like you.”

Her heart swelled, and she smiled, squeezing his hand. “I really like you too.”

And then, before she could convince herself to stay, she slipped out the door.

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✯ authors note: English is not my first language, and I hope you liked it <3

[dwaekkicidal]

forever thinking of secret mean dom felix. your sweet, sweet lixie who dotes on you and holds you so gently and kisses you softly in front of his friends but is a totally different person in the bedroom.

pushing your head into the pillow, wrapping your hair around his fist and yanking hard while he tells you what a slut you are for wearing a tiny skirt and bending over in front of innie.

squishing your cheeks and making your lips puff out while youre on your knees staring up at him so prettily.

his voice beyond deep and growly in your ear when he tells you to beg for his cock and tell him why you deserve it if you’re so needy.

landing one (1) slap on your face when he has you on your back for daring to stick your tongue out at him, thinking he wouldn’t act on his words.

leaving you tied up on his bed with a vibrator taped to your clit while he games with orders of not to make a sound or even think of cumming.

having you cockwarm him in front of the boys for giggling at a joke seungmin made about felix needing to tame your sass. you can’t sass if your mouth is full, right?

mean dom felix lives rent free in my brain, its giving the musical doodle worm in spongebob iykyk

my sweet, lovely anon.. MARRY ME RIGHT FUCKING NOW.. jumping from wall to wall, gnawing my headboard, hanging from the ceiling like a fucking bat swinging around

secret mean dom felix is straight out of my nastiest fantasies.. i love being baby’d and being treated+treating others so sweetly is always my favorite thing- but then fucking like you want me to die is ... 🧍‍♀️i will find a way to impregnate the next man that does this to me

ahem. anywho-

secret mean dom felix who is just soooooo sweet and soo patient with you no matter what. he has his nose pressed to your temple more often than not, with a soft smile at the familiar smell of your shampoo/body wash and will give you random hand kisses literally just for fun.

the others actively gag (jokingly obv) at the sheer intimacy that felix just isnt afraid to show in public. they also will always call you guys mom and dad and will pretend to throw up when you guys show a lot of pda with no shame (theyre proud and good on you two!! but also “EEEEEEW”)

its become a regular thing, seeing you guys locked limbs and giving each other eskimo kisses or just soft and sweet little pecks as you hold each other close

hes the most respectful little guy that the world could ask for… but ohhhh my god. when theyre gone and it’s just the two of you, he gets SO disrespectful 🫠

what you said about the tongue sticking out is actually making me lose my mind!!!!!!!!!!! its such a like simple but childish thing to do and its literally THE perfect thing (in my eyes as of now) to do to piss off your dom 🥹 i genuinely might include this in my future brat taming things i write

but YES! slapping you across the face just enough to get his point across is so ‼️‼️‼️⁉️‼️⁉️‼️⁉️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️❕❕❕

he swears that he “hates” to do it to you, but the shit eating smile on his face and the way his cock twitches says otherwise

especially when he slides into you after having to tease himself to punish you properly, and that initial slide in doesnt feel as good as it normally does- at least not until halfway in, his palm meets your cheek or your tit out of the blue and your cunt tightens up so nicely for him!! not to mention, your sound are almost enough for him to cum right then and there

he loves to keep a hand in your hair for any reason. its a convenient means of reminding you who’s boss and keeping you obedient, all the while he can position you essentially to any position he wishes. (but its also good for holding you still so he can shove his tongue down your throat or so he can put your faces an inch from each other and in that sexy ass voice tell you to “watch your fucking mouth.”)

or better yet, he has one hand holding the restraints on your wrists while the other slides your favorite vibrator between your folds. roughly against your clit and at the max speed because “greedy sluts dont deserve to speak or enjoy their pleasure.”

him and that stupid ass vibrator are 🤞🤞

he chose a lovense because he loves the app controls while still being able to use it without the app, and it always leads to the freakiest (therefore yummiest) scenarios

you’re at dinner with the boys? vibrator shoved deep in your cunt while he teases the controls under the table.

grocery shopping and you just so happen to choose the emptiest isle to go down? 0-100 in literal seconds.

you wanted to watch them do choreos or just wanted to sit in the studio with the others? will look you dead in the eye and gradually up the speed of the vibrations until he can just barely hear it

running around the house doing chores? (playing the part of his little housewife ❤️) will put patterns on repeat and leave it running until the battery dies, or until youre finished cleaning. oh but dont worry about the charge!!! he has backups of your most used toys. :)

can, but will not give you any build up once you have the toy in solely because you getting caught off guard = the best reactions and the prettiest sounds. he will, however, sit there and laugh to himself when you struggle to walk straight or straight up fall to your knees at the sudden pleasure

and if any of the boys get invited to the bedroom, shits gonna get NYASTY… (ESPECIALLY with chris or minho 🫠🫠)

[mickeys-been-staying-at-ians]

So Dean is fucked up after Cas is taken into the Empty obviously, all melancholy, no sleep, drinking too much, you know his gist. Sam probably tries to get him to talk about it, but he would never tell him everything Cas said, you know. So Dean is miserable, and Sam is miserable, but THEY DON'T STOP trying to get Cas back.

And they do, somehow. So Cas appears somewhere in the library or wherever they were Doing What Brought Him Back and there's a second of confused, vulnerable silence because this can't be real don't believe it's real he's gonna disappear and it's gonna suck all over again but he stays, and looks at Dean, and then Dean is hugging him, clutching him like... well, like everything that happened, happened, and they're breathing each other in. Cas hasn't had the chance to think about what it all means, yet, so he's not overthinking it. Then they break apart, and Dean has tears in his eyes and his lower lip is shaking, and while Sam hugs Cas, too, Dean's body is like, shutting down, months of exhaustion (physical and emotional) catching up to him, and he feels it coming, so when Sam gets Cas to sit down, making him drink some water, Dean's like "I'm just gonna-" and he's running into his room and he doesn't even make it inside before he starts sobbing. He's sitting against his bed, his face in his hands, all wet now, when Sam comes in. Maybe he knocked, maybe not, Dean couldn't hear him. And he tries to cover himself a little, but Sam sees anyway, and he's so tired, so he just. Doesn't care.

And Sam says, "Dean, don't hide from him" and Dean isn't sobbing anymore but he's still crying into his palms, saying "I'm so tired, Sammy" and Sam knows. He doesn't know what happened between Dean and Cas but Cas said he did something and now Dean wouldn't feel comfortable around him. So, you know. Sam can guess, a little.

So he says, "He thinks you don't want anything to do with him anymore" and "you should go talk to him" and Dean is like "I can't" and he doesn't know why, maybe because he's exhausted, or because he doesn't know what to say to him , or because Cas sacrifised himself for him again, or because he told him he loved him and turned Dean's world upside down and disappeared, or maybe because he's scared.

And Sam knows this is all happening in Dean's head and he knows some of it is whispered to him in their dad's voice, so he says, "you know nothing in the world would ever change how I think of you," and Dean's head snaps towards him, wet with bloodshot eyes, confused and terrified, but he doesn't say anything, so Sam asks, "what really happened down there?" and Dean knows Sam knows. There's a hand squeezing his heart and lungs and he can't breathe, and Sam knows, and Dean wishes he could go back to when it wasn't even an option.

"He's your best friend," Sam says, and he is, he is, he's Dean's best friend, above all else, it's not just sacrifises and battles and blood and desperate confessions, it's also movies and music and inside jokes, so Dean asks Sam to get Cas. He does, and leaves them in Dean's room alone. And Dean says "don't ever die for me again" and "you think you saved me but i was barely alive" and "next time we die together" which is maybe a little fucked up, but he's feeling so raw. He says, "you're my best friend" and looks at Cas, hoping Cas hears everything he isn't saying, how Cas is the most important person in all the universes to Dean. He's family, but he doesn't say that, doesn't want Cas to think he's family like anyone else, because Cas is more. To Dean, Cas is- something Dean won't say yet, but he is.

And they have a quiet dinner with Sam because they're all tired, and Cas showers while they turn on the TV and bring out a couple of beers, and they act like it's a normal day in their life. Dean's head keeps falling and his eyes keep closing, his temples aching, but he stays, and at some point Sam goes to sleep, and when they're alone Cas tries to get Dean to go, too, but he keeps coming up with lame excuses to stay and Cas doesn't know what to make of it until he thinks maybe Dean doesn't want to be alone, or even - maybe Dean doesn't want to leave Cas alone, maybe he's scared something will happen to him again, or maybe he wants to just - be with Cas longer. And Cas is completely out of his element, because why would Dean- But it doesn't matter. His priority has always been Dean's well-being, so if there's any chance Dean is pushing himself because of - some of that, Cas will step up.

So he asks Dean if he can sleep in Dean's room tonight because he doesn't want to be alone. And there's a blaring red light going off in Dean head, screaming he knows he knows he knows Dean wants him to... what? Dean doesn't even know. Cas is asking as if for himself, for Dean's benefit, and Dean. God. Dean loves him, doesn't he? He's always loved him, but he loves him like... like... but he doesn't think it, still. He feels too open, now, and he wants to lock himself in his room and sleep it off and drink and stop feeling so vulnerable, he thinks he must be an open book to everyone, to Cas especially, and god, could people always tell? Can Cas tell, now? But why does it matter? Cas told him- he told him-

But none of it matters, because Cas is here, and he's offereing Dean an easy way out, and Dean is a weak, weak man, and he's exhausted and all he wants is to breathe Cas' air and know he's here, and not going anywhere.

So Dean puts on an old T-shirt and gets out of his jeans like he always does before realizing Cas is here. He flushes all over, sits down on his bed because he didn't think about how this was gonna go. Cas glances at the desk as if he was gonna sit in his chair the whole night, and Dean doesn't actually know if Cas sleeps now or doesn't, which he maybe should've thought of before, but before he can say anything, Cas says, "Dean, I don't want to make you uncomfortable" and Dean, completely lost, says the first thing that comes to his mind, which is, "can you lie down with me?" which is not exactly how he was gonna tell Cas he's the opposite of uncomfortable with him, but it does the trick. He makes Cas get out of his dress pants and gives him a T-shirt to sleep in, too, and flushes even more when he realizes what Cas is wearing. Dean lies down when Cas steps towards the bed, faces the wall because he doesn't know what to do with himself. They lie in silence for an awkward moment before Cas says, "are we okay?" and Dean says, "of course we are" and Dean knows Cas is still overthinking it, and he is, too, but... Cas took the leap, and he must feel so uncertain about them, and Dean thinks he owes him something, at least. Cas told him he loved him. Nothing felt right since then, because Cas died and because Cas thought he could never have what he wanted and because Cas thought he wasn't the most important person in Dean's life with Sammy, whatever that meant, and because Dean had to come to terms with that reality, a reality where Cas loves him, has loved him, him, Dean, broken and all. A man. A man Cas thought beautiful, and loving, and- and Dean has many issues, but Cas was never one of them, and Cas deserves to feel certain about his place in Dean's life.

So Dean asks Cas to come closer, and there's a still moment before Cas does, still too far away from Dean, and Dean can't see him, can't make himself turn because his heart is beating so loud he thinks if he looks at Cas, it's gonna beat out of his chest. So he reaches behind himself, finds Cas' hand and brings it forward, keeps it between his hands and brings them to his face. Breathes Cas in. "Please don't leave again" he says, in that tone he used when he prayed to Cas. He feels Cas shift, finally, as if he lost some of the tension from his body, feels the bed dip behind him, and he doesn't know how Cas moves but then Dean's back is pressed against Cas' front, and despite his beating heart, Dean is feeling the exhaustion start to take him. "Cas, I..." he tries, but he can't think anymore, can't make sense of anything.

"You can fall asleep, Dean," Cas says, his words warm in Dean's hair and the last thing he hears before sleep takes him is "I will be here when you wake up."

So when Dean wakes up, it's to a heavy arm around his chest and slow breaths against the back of his head. There's no moment of confusion about who he's with, or why. He doesn't even get a second to consider if it was real before Cas says "good morning, Dean" and Dean wonders if Cas slept at all. If he needs to sleep, now. There's so much they need to talk about, all three of them.

"Cas," he tries again, remembereing his attempt from last night. He needs Cas to know, for sure. "Cas, I - what you said. You know I. I've never..." and Cas is like "I know, Dean" but he sounds a little confused, so Dean doensn't know what Cas thinks he knows. So he turns, takes a second to notice how close they are now, and he thinks about Cas' eyes, his lips. Thinks, soon.

"You have to know," he says, as if Cas didn't say anything. "You have to know how I - what I" and he can't get the words out, not sure if it would be easier if there were no words to get out or if there were no voices in his head screaming over them. So he breathes in, Cas' scent overtaking his senses, brings his palm to Cas' face. Closes his eyes. Thinks, soon. Thinks, now, and meets Cas halfway.

[callipraxia]

My Hamlet was the sweetest, mildest-mannered Blue Heeler ever to exist, everyone always said. I was probably his favorite human - every evening, when I got home from school, he would run over to the car door and sling his front feet in my lap, cross them over each other, put his head down on them, and not let me out of the car until he’d had enough petting - but he loved everyone, basically. He considered our two little dachshunds his babies. It was widely agreed that you’d only realize he even was a Heeler because

1. The appearance is, admittedly, pretty distinctive,

2. Hamlet had this thing where if a visitor was anywhere else in our yard, he would take that person’s wrist in his mouth and very gently lead them over to show them my mother’s rosemary bush, and

3. there were two exceptions to his universal policy of gentle agreeability. People who had been anywhere near drugs got their ankles attacked until they cleared the invisible line Hamlet used to define his territory, and as for anything that threatened his ‘family’…Once, three big dogs of a relative’s came down and attacked our little dachshunds while they were outside for a potty break. Daddy had barely processed that there was a ruckus starting before he saw Hamlet shoot past him like a torpedo and plow straight into it without breaking stride, taking on all three at once. They were all bigger and heavier than him, and they all promptly discovered that this was not actually relevant to the outcome of the interaction, because Hamlet simply Did Not Care; they had hurt one of his babies and terrified the other, so their options were to leave after taking a beating or to die, because it turned out that our happy little Hamlet could throw down like nobody’s business when he felt the need. Hamlet’s epic moment there was the only reason one of our little dachshunds survived, and why the other almost did. Hamlet himself took a single bite injury to one leg, but it healed well and he lived several more years before dying of a seizure in his sleep.

A friend of ours also got a German Shepherd while her husband was in the army and stationed in Germany a few decades ago. Apparently, that fine fellow also took all of their guests by the hand and led them where he felt like they needed to be, solemn as a butler. When the MPs dropped by one evening to ask to borrow him to help track down someone who’d gone AWOL, the husband also had to go along even though he wasn’t military police, as their Shepherd was a law unto himself and would not take orders from anyone other than Friend and her husband. These random men ask him to go find something? They can eff off, he’s going back to bed. His dad asks him the same thing? Escapee’s hiding place promptly revealed. And all this is to say nothing of the tales I’ve heard about the Shepherd my mother had in the seventies, a gentleman by the name of King….

TL;DR, I love herding dogs, they’re awesome.

fun thing about herding and/or generally neurotic breeds: they are really good at following rules you have instituted, but they will also make their own Dog Rules they will follow stringently whether or not you like it

[oaksgrove]

The Best-Kept Secret.

Pairing: Platonic!Task Force 141 x married!Reader

Synopsis: The team always thought you were an enigma—a shadow on and off the field, a soldier with no loose ends. Until a mission in Switzerland leads them to an unexpected discovery: you’re not just seeing someone. You’re married. And while they’ve spent years in combat, dodging bullets and chasing warlords, you’ve been coming home to a soft-spoken bookstore owner who reads you poetry and kisses your forehead. Now, Soap is spiraling, Gaz is amused, Ghost is quietly impressed, and Price is—well, Price already knew, didn’t he?

Warnings: Found family fluff, ridiculous levels of espionage for something completely unnecessary, Soap in emotional distress, Price being the wise dad, and Elias being disgustingly romantic.

Word Count: 2512

The mission in Switzerland had been a success. A long, grueling success, but a success nonetheless. The team was tired, ready to return to base, but as they walked through the crisp, cold streets of a quiet Swiss town,something about you was different.

You weren’t trudging along like the rest of them.

No.

You were practically floating.

You shrugged a little too casually. “Just gonna swing by an old friend’s place. Haven’t seen ‘em in years.”

Price’s sharp gaze flicked to you. Ghost barely tilted his head, but you could feel his stare.

“An old friend, huh?” Gaz asked, crossing his arms.

Price hummed, unimpressed. “That so?”

“Yep,” you said too quickly. “Won’t be long.”

Gaz watched as you adjusted your gloves, the tiny, barely-contained excitement in your movements betraying you. He glanced at Ghost, who tilted his head ever so slightly. They all knew you weren’t lying, not really—but you were definitely hiding something.

You weren’t reckless. You weren’t prone to wandering off alone after missions. And more importantly, you weren’t good at masking excitement.

So, naturally, the boys followed you.

“We’re not seriously doin’ this,” Gaz whispered as they tailed you through the quiet streets.

“Oh, we absolutely are,” Soap shot back, ducking behind a parked car.

Ghost sighed, but he was still here, wasn’t he?

Price—who should have been above this nonsense—was also present, watching you with the kind of intrigue usually reserved for high-value targets.

They kept their distance, moving like shadows through the quiet streets, watching as you walked—not with the usual alertness of a soldier, but with an uncharacteristic lightness. Your shoulders were loose, your pace unhurried, and there was something about your expression—

A smile.

A real one. Not the usual smirk, not the practiced mask you wore in the field, but something soft and genuine, capable of lighting up the entire street.

Soap actually stumbled at the sight. “Bloody hell. She’s glowing.”

Gaz nudged him. “Keep your voice down. She’s happy about something.” noting the bounce in your step, the way you didn’t check your surroundings like you normally would. You weren’t scanning for threats, weren’t walking with the stiff alertness of a soldier.

You looked… soft.

Gaz squinted. “She’s giddy.”

Price stroked his beard, thoughtful. Ghost remained silent, though his eyes tracked every movement.

Then, you stopped.

At a bakery.

The team exchanged confused glances as they watched you step inside, the shop’s warmth fogging up the glass. A few moments later, you emerged with a small paper bag and two hot chocolates. 

Soap narrowed his eyes. “Two?”

Gaz raised an eyebrow. “Why two?”

Price stroked his beard. Ghost tilted his head.

And then, they watched as you walked—still smiling, still oblivious to the four highly-trained operators tailing you. 

Your pace was slow, relaxed, happy. Like you had all the time in the world. Like you were walking toward something you wanted. 

Price had muttered, “She’s meeting someone important.”

And then…

The bookstore.

The moment you reached the door, something shifted.

Soap squinted. “Hold on. Why is it closed?”

The bookstore was dark, the Closed sign hanging in the window. No other customers inside.

And yet—

When you knocked, the door unlocked almost instantly.

A man let you in, smiling as if he’d been waiting just for you.

Tall, dark-haired, charming beard, handsome in a way that wasn’t loud, but deeply noticeable. His glasses sat low on his nose, like he’d been reading before you arrived.

And the moment he saw you, his entire posture softened.

The tension in his shoulders melted, his lips twitching into a familiar smile.

He kissed your forehead, then your cheek.

And the team lost their collective minds.

You handed him the hot chocolate, your own smile bright and warm. He kissed the back of your hand before leading you inside.

Gaz made a choking noise. “She knocked.”

Soap ran a hand down his face. “He closed the whole damn store for her?”

Ghost tilted his head. “It’s… romantic.”

Soap shot him a betrayed look. “Not helping.”

Inside, the two of you walked past the counter, weaving between bookshelves like you’d done it a hundred times before.

He guided you to a corner booth near the window. You were curled into his side, head resting against his chest, the two of you pressed together in that way people do when they don’t even realize they’re gravitating toward each other.

The man picked up a book he had been reading, flipping it open.

Then, as if this whole thing wasn’t already a slap in the face, he started reading to you. 

Like you had never left.

Like this was a routine.

Like he had been waiting for you to come home.

And you let him.

His voice was low and warm as he murmured something in your ear, making you laugh softly. You nudged him in mock protest, but your eyes shone with affection. And without even breaking conversation, he broke off a piece of your pastry and held it up to your lips.

And you ate it without hesitation.

Didn’t grab it. Didn’t protest. Just let him feed you.

Ghost muttered, “She’s so in love, it’s bizarre.”

“She lied to us.” Soap muttered, pacing. 

“She didn’t lie,” Gaz reasoned. “She just… omitted small details.”

Ghost crossed his arms. “She omitted a whole man.”

Price pinched the bridge of his nose. “Alright, let’s leave her be.”

Soap whipped around. “Are you joking? After all the mystery? After all the secrecy? And it turns out she’s—what? In love?”

Gaz smirked. “It’s kinda sweet, actually.”

Soap gestured wildly toward the bookshop. “Sweet? SWEET? She’s been sneaking off to a romance novel!” 

Ghost’s eyes narrowed. “Wait.”

They all turned back toward the window just in time to see it.

And then—The man reached for the chain around his neck.

Soap squinted. “What’s he doing?”

The man—your husband, they were realizing—slid a ring from the necklace and onto your finger.

Like he had done this before.

Like it had always belonged there.

Ghost exhaled. “Oh.”

Soap made a strangled noise. “No.”

Gaz physically grabbed his arm before he could storm the building. “Mate. Don’t.”

Inside, you ran your fingers over the edge of your ring, smiling softly as he kissed your temple.

This wasn’t new.

This was familiar.

This was home.

Soap put his hands on his knees, trying to breathe. “She’s been married this whole time?”

Gaz leaned back, hands on his hips. “Well, shit.”

Price muttered, “How long?” like a man trying to process an entire alternate reality.

Soap was glaring at nothing. “We’ve been working with her for years. You’re telling me she’s been married this entire time?”

Ghost hummed. “Apparently.”

Soap pointed accusingly at the window. “She doesn’t even wear a ring on duty!”

“Yeah,” Ghost said dryly. “Because she didn’t want us to know.”

They watched as you laughed again, head tilting back slightly as your husband—your actual, literal husband—gently nudged your nose with his.

It was the kind of touch that wasn’t just casual.

It was muscle memory.

Gaz exhaled. “That’s real.”

Soap groaned. “I need to sit down.”

Ghost slapped his shoulder. “You’re already sitting.”

Soap groaned louder.

For a moment, none of them spoke.

The weight of it all settled in, each man processing the absolute bombshell you had just unknowingly dropped on them.

You, the enigma of Task Force 141.

You, who had kept your past tightly locked away.

You, who never shared too much about your personal life.

And yet—here you were, sitting in a small bookstore in Switzerland, drinking hot chocolate with a man who so clearly knew every piece of you.

Price sighed, finally standing straight. “Alright.”

Gaz looked at him. “Alright?”

Price glanced back at the window, then at his team. “She’ll tell us when she’s ready.”

Soap made a furious noise. “You’re just fine with this?”

Price gave him a look. The Captain look. “What exactly are you upset about, Johnny? That she didn’t tell us, or that she’s happy?”

Soap opened his mouth—paused—then closed it.

Gaz smirked. “Damn.”

Ghost, still watching you, nodded once. “If it was anyone else, I’d be concerned.”

Soap huffed. “He better be worth it.”

Ghost tilted his head. “Seems like he is.”

Inside, you ran your fingers over the edge of your ring, eyes soft as your husband kissed your temple.

Price exhaled. “Come on. Let’s give them their moment.”

And though Soap grumbled the whole way back, he didn’t argue.

Not this time.

Because despite the shock, the secrecy, and the absolute mindfuck of it all, you deserved this and none of them were about to ruin it.

The evening stretched on inside the small bookstore, wrapped in the kind of warmth that had nothing to do with the heater humming softly in the corner. The cold outside felt like a distant memory, replaced by the cozy cocoon of soft lighting, the faint scent of old paper, and the gentle hum of Elias’s voice as he read aloud from a worn book, his fingers tracing idle patterns against the back of your hand.

The world beyond those four walls didn’t exist. Not the mission, not the war, not the team you knew were drinking in some pub outside.

Just him.

Your husband.

Eventually, reality crept back in—the faint awareness that time was slipping away.

You sighed, your fingers tightening around his. “I should go.”

Elias closed the book gently, setting it aside without breaking eye contact. “Already?”

The disappointment in his voice was soft but unmistakable, a subtle ache beneath the warmth. He reached out, cupping your face in his large hand, his thumb brushing softly along your cheekbone.

“You just got here,” he whispered, his brow furrowing slightly as he studied your face like he was trying to memorize every detail.

You leaned into his touch, closing your eyes for a brief moment, letting the comfort of him sink in. “I know.”

Elias’s other hand found your waist, pulling you gently closer until you were tucked into his chest, his bearded chin resting atop your head. His embrace was all-consuming, his arms wrapped around you like a shield, like he could hold back the world if he just squeezed tightly enough.

“You’ll be careful?” he murmured against your hair, his voice low and rough with emotion.

You smiled softly against his chest. “Always.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes warm and full of a quiet, fierce love. “I don’t care how good you are out there,” he whispered, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip, “just… come back to me.”

Your heart twisted, the words threading through you like a quiet plea. You reached up, cradling his face between your hands, your fingers brushing through the soft edges of his beard.

“I always do,” you whispered back.

And then he kissed you—slow and unhurried, like he had all the time in the world, like the world outside didn’t exist. His hands framed your face, gentle despite their size, grounding you in a way nothing else ever could.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and reluctant, he pressed one last kiss to your forehead, lingering there for a heartbeat longer than necessary.

You slipped the ring off your finger, threading it back onto the chain around his neck. It felt like a promise—silent but understood.

He caught your hand before you could step back, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, his lips lingering as if letting go was the hardest thing in the world.

You smiled softly. “I’ll see you soon.”

His reply was simple but full of weight. “I’ll be here.”

With one last glance, you turned and left, the cold air biting at your face as the door shut softly behind you.

You barely made it through the door before chaos descended.

They knew everything.

Elias Schneider. Bookstore owner. Former Professor. Linguist.

Gaz held up the Google search results like a declassified CIA file. “Big on philosophy and poetry.”

Soap snatched the phone. “So you’re telling me—while we’ve been getting shot at, crawling through mud, dodging missiles—she’s been coming home to some soft-spoken bookstore bloke who reads her poetry?”

Ghost hummed. “Explains the forehead kisses.”

Price exhaled. “Christ. That explains a lot.”

The moment your boots hit the threshold, all four of them were waiting—Soap leaning against the table with his arms crossed, Gaz perched on the arm of the couch, Ghost standing silently in the corner, and Price sitting with that annoyingly calm expression, like he’d been expecting this moment all along.

You didn’t even have time to take off your coat.

“Well,” Soap started, his eyes narrowing as he straightened up, “have a nice visit with your old friend?”

You paused mid-step, arching a brow. “Really?”

Gaz grinned. “Oh yeah. We’re doing this.”

You sighed, letting your bag drop with a soft thud. “You followed me.”

Soap didn’t even try to deny it. “Of course we did! You think we wouldn’t notice you floating down the street like you were starring in some bloody Hallmark movie?”

Price leaned back slightly, arms crossed. “You were glowing.”

Ghost remained silent, but the tilt of his head spoke volumes.

You shrugged out of your coat slowly, pretending to be unbothered, even as heat crept up your neck. “I wasn’t glowing.”

Gaz snorted. “Mate, you were a walking Lifetime christmas movie advertisement.”

Soap pushed off the table, pacing dramatically. “And the pastries! Two hot chocolates with little hearts on the cups? Little hearts, for Christ’s sake!”

You rolled your eyes. “So? Maybe I was just—”

“Oh, don’t even start,” Soap cut in, pointing an accusatory finger. “We saw you. In the bookstore. With the giant.”

Gaz chimed in, grinning like he’d won the lottery. “You kissed him.”

Ghost finally spoke, his voice low and even. “And the ring.”

The room went quiet for a beat.

You sighed, running a hand down your face. “Unbelievable.”

Soap’s eyes narrowed. “How long?”

You crossed your arms, refusing to give them the satisfaction of seeing you flustered. “None of your business.”

“Oh, it’s very much our business now,” Gaz said, leaning forward with a smirk. “You’ve been married this whole time?”

Price, still calm but clearly amused, added, “We’re just curious. For… team cohesion.”

You groaned, shaking your head. “You’re all insufferable.”

Soap grinned. “But you love us.”

You didn’t answer, but the faint smile tugging at the corner of your mouth was enough.

Price finally stood, patting your shoulder as he passed. “He seems like a good man.”

You paused, glancing at him. “He is.”

And for once, the room settled—no more teasing, no more interrogation. Just a quiet understanding.

But not for long.

“Wait,” Soap blurted out suddenly, turning back to you. “Does he read to you?”

You groaned. “I’m leaving.”

And as you disappeared down the hall, their laughter echoed behind you, filling the safe house with a warmth that had nothing to do with the heat.

[brawberryz]

What is that skin!?

Damian Wayne × BatSis! Reader 《Platonic!》

Note: English is not my first language, sorry if there is any translation error

After asking (begging) Damian to play Fornite with you and as crazy as it sounds he accepted! (With gritted teeth but he accepted)

Instead of rotting his brain solving cases, he would rot his brain playing video games

You were getting ready to play, you accept the invitation and when the game was about to start- wait... is that Hatsune Miku!?

"What is that skin, bro?"

You said holding back laughter, you didn't think Damian was a fan of Miku, you thought he was too rude to be interested in those topics like vocaloid

"What's wrong with it?"

He said with an annoyed tone from his headphones

"Well... I mean there's nothing wrong with it but it surprises me because, well... it's you"

Damian arched an eyebrow at your answer "and what's the problem, miku is cool"

"Well I'm just saying that I didn't think you liked anime girls"

You said letting out a small laugh

"Hatsune Miku is NOT an anime girl SHE'S A VOCALOID DAMN IDIOT"

God, with that scream she could have easily broken your eardrums, how the hell did damian not tear his throat?

"Okay now I understand, although I remember having seen her in an anime.."

You said thoughtfully, from the other side damian let out a grunt as he settled into his chair

"But if we're being honest, teto is much better than miku"

"What did you say?"

Damian said with a sinister tone

"What a teto is much better than Miku"

You repeated without realizing when that was the straw that broke the camel's back, in a few seconds the door of your room was knocked down, right there was Damian with his two katanas ready to split you in two and shatter you

"Damian?"

You spoke with a scared tone while you cowered in your chair, he may be much smaller than you but damn it sometimes he was scary

"You will pay for your words"

Damian slowly approached you while you backed away in your chair

"Hey dami, this is too extreme, are we really going to fight over a fictional character?"

You tried to reason with him but nothing could calm your anger, you felt your end approaching

"It's okay do you want to hear it, I'm really sorry!"

You said, maybe if you apologized your death wouldn't be premature

"It's too late to apologize"

"What?... Wait Damian!... DAMIAN!!"

_

Bruce swore that he was going to grow more gray hair than he had if you and Damian kept doing stupid things, he was in the hospital while you rested on a stretcher

On the other side was Damian with a frown as he looked at you and his angry father

"Seriously Damian, what were you thinking when you STABBED AND BREAK YOUR SISTER'S ARM!?"

Bruce said hysterically, he thought that you two would spend some time on charity and would have a better coexistence

But it seems that they decided that it was a better idea to fight to the death

"Damian Wayne, you are grounded for hurting your sister and you will not go on patrol until I say you will go"

"WHAT!?"

The boy said angrily, you swore that Damian was about to jump on Bruce and strangle him

"While you, Miss, are also grounded and will not go on patrol until I say so"

"EH!?, it's not fair, I AM THE VICTIM!"

You said in a dramatic tone as you abruptly stood up from the stretcher

"I'm not going to discuss it anymore, you better respect your punishments"

Bruce spoke in a serious tone as he gave you and Damian a cold look

"Okay dad.."

They both said in unison letting out a sigh of defeat, maybe next time they should control themselves more...

Bonus ( *・ω・)ノ ♡~

Graphic description of how BatSis! Reader looked after Damian entered her room

[boybandbaby]

A Night To Remember (Evan Buckley x SingleMom!Reader)

word count: 2267

warnings/tags: single mom reader, a child, v light angst, unspecified reason for father’s absence (let you mind run wild), as always if I’ve missed anything lmk

note: not entirely happy about this but I really wanted to do this concept also sorry if your name is Evie I tried to use a name I liked but something I don’t see most people have

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

Your daughter had hopped in the backseat without her usually greeting. With you she was a chatterbox, rambling about her day and what her friends did during school. With new people, she was shy. She’d hide behind your legs as you introduced her to strangers. She takes a while to open up but once she comes out of her shell, she’s a social butterfly.

You’re not sure why she’s so quiet now and she won’t tell you. She sits in the back seat, feet still as her favorite song plays, a pout on her lips as she looks out the window.

You’re worried. Worried that maybe someone had bullied her or that she’d gotten into trouble somehow. No, the school would’ve called.

You make your way home, opening her door to help her out. She hops out and doesn’t hold your hand as you make your way into the complex.

“Did something happen at school?” You inquire.

She shakes her head as you unlock your door. She runs inside and kicks her shoes off, creating a tripping hazard. You figure it’s better to not poke the bear right now and don’t remind her of the rules to put her shoes on the shoe rack.

“Can I do my homework after dinner?” She finally speaks.

“Are you sure? Buck’s coming over, I thought you guys were going to play that new board game he got for you?” You help her take her back pack off.

“I want to go to my room.” She mumbles.

“You don’t want your after school snack? I was going to make you some celery and apples with peanut butter.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Babe, what’s wrong?” You kneel down to her height, brushing hair from her forehead.

“Nothing!” She pushes your hand and runs to her room, door slamming behind her.

You decide to give her some space as you take the groceries out that you bought for dinner. Your mind races with what you could have done to upset her.

Buck arrives about an hour later. His smile drops when he sees the stressed look on your face. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

You usher him in and pull him in for a hug. “It’s Evie.” You whisper though you know she can’t hear. “She was quiet the whole ride home and then when we got home, she bolted to her room.”

“Let me go say hi, I’ll be back to help set the table.” He smiles. He makes his way through the apartment to her room.

He knocks twice before opening the door just a crack. “Evie? It’s Buck. I just wanted to say hi and let you know dinner is ready.”

He hears her sniffles. “Come in.”

He smiles despite hearing that she’s been crying. When they first met, she was too shy to even look at him but over the last few months they’ve became besties. Buck of course spoils her and she loves it.

“Hey, you having a bad day?” He softly asks. She nods, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand and putting her pencil down on her open folder which lays on her lap.

Buck gets onto his knees at the side of her bed. “Wanna tell me what happened?” He brushes her hair away from her face and pulls it back behind her shoulders.

Instead of talking, she pulls a pink flyer from behind the worksheet she was writing on. She hands it to Buck.

Elementary School Father Daughter Dance

Saturday February 1st at 6pm

Gymnasium

Please purchase tickets by January 29th. $15 per pair

Dinner | Dancing | Games

“You’re upset because you want to go to this?” He clarifies. She nods.

“My friend Tammy said she’s going with her daddy and my other friend Julie doesn’t have a dad like me but she’s going with her older brother.” Her lip wobbles. “I don’t have anyone to go with.”

“Hmmm. And you don’t want to go with mom?”

“Mommy is a girl.”

“Some people have two mommies instead of a mommy and a daddy and some people have two daddies.” He informs her.

“How does that work?”

“Okay maybe I should let your mom have that talk with you.” He rubs the back of his neck. “How about we go eat dinner and we can show mom the flyer? And if she is okay with it and you’re okay with it, I can go with you.”

“You’ll go with me? Even if you’re not my daddy?”

“Yeah, I’d love to take you. I’m not a good dancer though.” He warns.

“Thank you! Thank you!” She squeals, leaping forward to hug him.

Buck rubs her little back, pulling her up as he stands. “You ready to eat?”

She nods and rests her head on his shoulder as Buck hands her the flyer to hold.

You’re already serving three plates when they come out. You’re smiling when you see that Buck’s gotten her out of her mood.

“Everything good?” You raise a brow at him as you set a fork down by each plate.

“Yes mommy. I’m sorry I yelled at you earlier.” She wiggles down Buck’s front and runs to your side. She hugs your legs, the flyer crinkling against your thighs.

“What’s that you got there?” You point to the paper. She steps back and looks to Buck who nods at her, encouraging her to discuss the dance with you.

You read over the paper and look at her. “I want to go with Buck, pleaseeee.”

“So, this is why you were upset?” You place a hand, palm up, under her chin. “Did you ask Buck already to go with you?” She nods.

“If you’re okay with it, I’d be happy to take her.” He steps in.

“You’d do that?” You look at him, eyes glossy. “It’s not too much to ask?”

“Of course not. It’s important to her and you’re both important to me.” He opens the fridge and gets the juice and two water bottles out.

“Then I guess it’s a date.” You shrug, leaning down to kiss Evie’s forehead.

When dinner is over, Buck helps Evie finish her homework sheets. She’s too burnt out from excitement and her earlier crying that she heads to bed early.

She’s old enough to dress herself and brush her teeth, only asking for help putting the toothpaste on the brush.

After Buck helps her off the step stool, he helps tuck her into bed as you fix her nightlight. She falls asleep with a smile on her face, excited to tell her friends that she will be going to the dance.

You and Buck settle into your bed, changed into pajamas and comforted pulled down the bed.

“Buck?” You ask, nervously, as you slip into your side of the bed.

He hums, fluffing the pillow he always uses when he sleeps over.

“You sure you’re okay with taking Evie to the dance? I know we haven’t really talked about your role in her life. I’m not saying I’m expecting you to be her father or stepfather or anything like that and I know you said you were okay with me having a kid. I guess I’m just worried I’m forcing you to take on responsibility.”

“Breathe baby.” He leans into the bed, crawling closer to the middle. “You’re not forcing me to do anything. I love being with you and being your boyfriend and yes you have a daughter but that doesn’t bother me. I love spending time with you both. I like being part of your family.”

“You’re so sweet. I just don’t want you to feel trapped.”

“Don’t.” He shakes his head. “Don’t even think like that. I’m honored that she wants me to go with her and I’m grateful you’re letting me part of her and your life. Okay?” He holds your face in his hands. “I love you.”

“I love you. You’re too good to us.”

“Stop.” He feels a blush creeping up onto his neck.

Just days before the dance, you all go to the mall so that Buck and Evie can get matching outfits.

She’s very adamant about wearing a red dress and requires Buck to wear something red too.

Buck had decided to get ready before he came over for the dance. He also stopped to run some errands before coming over.

Evie had asked you to do her hair and if she could wear makeup. You settled for some sheer lip gloss to satisfy her.

She was pacing the living room. “Mommy! Buck is going to be late.”

“Babe, the dance is in an hour. He’s on his way.” You laugh, pouring yourself something to drink. “Just sit in the couch and relax.”

“I can’t relax! I’m so excited.” She jumps up and down. Buck knocks on the door and she runs. “He’s here! He’s here! Can I open the door?”

“Just this once.” You follow her, standing behind her.

When she opens the door, Buck stands there looking handsome as always. He’s holding a small bouquet of flowers, a pink heart balloon, and a small teddy bear.

“Ah!” Evie screams, holding her hands out for her gifts.

“Hi! You look so pretty.” He kisses her forehead. She giggles and runs to put her gifts on her bed. “She gets it from her mom.”

“You’re a smooth talker, Buck.” You grin at him. “And where’s my gift?”

“Right here.” He winks and pulls you into him by your waist. His lips meet yours in a passionate kiss. You only break away when Evie clears her throat.

“You should’ve seen her. She was more nervous than I was for our first date.” You laugh.

“Is that so?” He picks her up. “No need to be nervous little lady. We’re going to have a great night!”

“You’ll dance with me and my friends?” She pokes at his cheek.

“Of course, we’ll dance all night.” He kisses her cheek.

You kiss them both goodbye and assure Buck you’ll keep your ringer on in case he needs anything.

Buck is a gentleman as always as he opens the door for her both in the car and at the school. Her hand clings to his and he can see the nerves in her little eyes as she looks around the gym.

Her eyes widen and she taps Buck’s side, pointing at her friend Tammy who is sitting at a table with her father. Buck guides her over to the table and asks if they can join them. Buck makes small talk with the man as the kids show each other their dresses and sparkly shoes.

When it’s time, Buck helps serve Evie and helps tuck a napkin into her neckline. He’s at her beck and call, getting her cups of punch and cookies from the dessert table.

They end up winning one of the games due to Buck’s competitive nature. They win gift certificates for a local ice cream shop and promise to go next weekend. They then spend the night dancing (jumping and twirling) to pop music.

Buck’s burnt out, he thinks he might be more tired than a shift at the station. He’s sent you loads of videos and pictures throughout the night, even FaceTimed you to show you the decorations.

Your heart has swelled up with joy and love for your daughter and for Buck. It’s been hard for both of you without her father so her being able to have this experience makes you so happy. And Buck, I mean how could you not love him even more after this? He went out of his way to create a special experience for her without hesitation.

Your thoughts are interrupted when you hear the front door open, having just given Buck a spare key. You both shared an emotional moment when you gave it to him but it was bound to happen sooner or later and you felt the sooner the better.

You click the volume to mute and stand from the couch just as he’s approaching. He looks beat and tired with droopy eyes but he carries Evie’s sleeping form. Though she’s asleep, she holds onto him for dear life.

“Hey.” You whisper and lean up to kiss him. “I can take her.”

He shakes his head, “I got her. Let’s tuck her in. She’ll be too sleepy for a bath.”

You nod and plan to get her all washed up first thing in the morning. You help pull the blankets from her bed as Buck lays her down. You both take one foot each and unbuckle her shoes. He hands you the shoe and you place them in her closet.

After a kiss to the forehead and a flick of the nightlight, you both exit. Buck wraps his arms around you, his chest resting against your back. He tucks his chin into your neck.

“Sleepy?”

“Yes.” He groans. “I have not danced that much since I was a kid. But I had so much fun, she’s such a good kid. You’re such a good mom.”

You blush, cheeks flaming. “She is. Thank you for doing this.” You’re glad he can’t see your face. You’re about to burst into tears.

“I love doing stuff like this for her. And for you. You deserve a night for just you and to not worry about doing all this alone.”

“I love you, you know that?” You turn in his arms.

“Don’t cry.” He urges, hands rubbing up and down at your sides before his thumb wipes a stray tear on your cheek. “I love you. I’ll be here for you both. Always.”

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

[ghostlychaosfoil]

KIRBY QUESTIONS!!!

may be repetitive.. some questions refer to similar things

also it is mostly unnecessary to read the questions above, you can just read my responses

kirby fs has to grow on people. He instinctively puts up a intimidating persona when meeting new people, due to his old job as a repo man. Hes pretty annoying at first, but he will lower that persona eventually.

kirby is very used to being alone so he feels pretty comfortable and calm with being alone. He was homeschooled for most of his life and his only past social experiences were at jobs where he had to be serious with the exception of his dad, whom he spend most of his time with. His social personality is always an attempt at a serious person (since he was never that good at acting like that) it is pretty easy to see through him at his mix of anxiety, suspicion and despairity to be likeable. over time he gives ul the act.

the emotion that is the hardest for kirby to deal with is fear

kirby is more physically affectionate than emotionally affectionate, though he needs to recieve both. he used to be more emotionally affectionate with leatherhead, when helping him through his occasional depressive episodes concerning his divorced partner.

kirby good at keeping secrets from everyone but one select person (raph or leatherhead, depending on the time) which must hear ALL the secrets

He speak in hints and riddle when it come to his past or other sensitive topics otherwise he is regrettably blunt.

Kirby is a decent liar until you pick up on subtle habits of his. Kirby will cover or hide his shoulder marks when he lies because when he was young, leatherhead told him that everyone could see his shoulder marks glow (parenting hack he found online). Kirby will lie to prove his point, or to get out of a uncomfortable situation.

Kirby is not very open about his true feelings positive and negative verbally but hes is pretty bad at controlling his body language and facial expressions.

Kirbys main love language is acts of service with minor quality time and physical touch.

Kirby does not fall in love very quickly because he will have manyyy contradicting toughts and feelings

some small things that make kirby happy are butter, small animals, mountain dew, sunsets, and when his rollerblades are clean

His self esteem plummeted after his krangification, due to his lack of support system and different appearance.

When kirbys sense of humor is mainly observational. If someone says or does something he will lightheartedly use it as a tool to make a joke. He doesnt make puns though, he more repeats the action with his own humorous spin on it (ex pointing out the irony of something or repeating what someone said in a weird voice). His laugh is also very contagious, so he can make people laugh fairly easily if he wants to. There is also the aspect of him unintentionally being funny in awkward situations, in which case he gets defensive or tries to play it off like it was a joke all along.

its not hard to make kirby laugh, he will laugh at any stupid pun or slightly ironic situation. he is not very good at suppressing his laughs (he does get mad if the laugh breaks his serious act). Kirby has a mainly wheeze laugh or a snicker, depending on how funny it was.

Kirby does not hide it very well when he doesnt like someone. he will often either not talk to them or try to refute or disprove their every word.

Kirby easily relies on others to help him out but he later learned to be more independent when he lived alone.

His biggest struggle that no one around is able to understand or believe is learning how to interact with his peers in a “kind” way. or his nerve disfunction that other deem veeeery convinient.

Oh boy does he have to hide his identity! After he is dekrangified, his marks are stained pink, still giving him a krangy look, not to mention his increase in size. That mixed with him already being mutant, he keeps to the alleys and tops of buildings and tries to keep a low profile and wears his hood when in public.

If he could change one thing in the past it would have been to not have been so embarrassed of his dad, and instead had appreciated it while he could.

When kirby is sad or upset he would prefer company but is scared/embarrassed to ask for it or admit it. it would go something like “kirby do you want a hug?” “nahh”(WHY DID I SAY THAT I DO WANT A HUG I SHOULD ASK FOR A HUG AGAIN SAY NEVERMIND SAY NEVERMIND) “wait actually uhh”

when kirby is sick he would prefer not to be seen.

kirby sure does have nightmares! and sleep paralysis. They are usually about the krang invesion or being krangified, or something starting with a happy scenario like his old life in his house, restaurant, junk yard, rollerblading, and then it twists into something scary. And thats when his dreams arent being manipulated by venus. his venus dreams are very vivid yet muffled. Venus is trying to reconnect with kirby and trying to find him through his dreams, kirby not understanding this one bit. He later has dreams about venus even when she isnt trying to be in them, stemming from kirby constantly worrying about the venus dreams.

The darkest period of kirby’s life was the months after being unkrangified, before meeting raph. This is because he is fully cut off from everyone he once knew, and has massive amounts of ptsd and anxiety, and injury from being krangified.

its very easy for kirby’s emotions to cloud his judgement.

kirby does have fears and phobias, lots of them. his willingness to open up depends on the likelyhood that it will change someones view of him (this is mainly after krangification, he was an open book w his dad and repo)

Physical injuries post krang: ocular migranes cause by blood vessel spasms (temporary blindness), sensory and motor nerve damage in areas where the krang was most populated (crush injury in arm due to compression), some areas of skin just ripped up and cut, just so much fatigue (the krang had his body working nonstop for months). Mental illness oh boy he got that anxiety and ptsd (lets just say hes in the special classes iykwim /ij)

Kirby does have scars, the most prominent being the pink stained marks on his face arms and legs (his face mostly), and he HATESS them, kirby cant stand to look in a mirror for a long time. The sight of the scary pink on his face send him in a spiral. He also has a scars on his hands from a butter knife (the super noticeable one on his left hand, its very embarrassing when he admits what actually caused it and that it wasnt from a shark fight) and smaller ones on both hands (he tried both hands🫣) from pizza cutters. the hand cuts he doesnt mind as much, though he forgets about them as his hands are usually wrapped nowadays, they sometimes make him sad but only sometimes!

something that kirby will never forgive is something that kirby doesnt know yet… BUT in the meantime its the harm he caused as a krang

kirby deals with loss, stress, and anger in a sort of neutral way if its not that severe. He goes out of his way to avoid all things that would even slightly trigger a thought about the thing causing the distress (this could possibly mess with his sleep or safety🤔). He will try to distract himself with tasks such as cleaning or fixing things in his home, listening to the radio, going out and just walking around doing whatever he ends up doing. (if its severe them somebody go check on kirby)

best coping mechanisms above ⬆️ worst coping mechanism would be “try not to sleep ever challenge!!!” (somebody put him down)

It is super hard for kirby to own up to his mistakes and wrongdoings because he thinks admitting to them means hes a horrible person.

heheheh….. maybeeee

kirby’s fondest and most treasured memories would be cooking or watching tv with his dad.

some vices Kirby has are lying, stealing, and being easily agitated

Kirby doesnt not like his appearance, if he could change it he would at least change his marks back to normal shape and color.

His favorite blanket hold emotional value because it reminds him of the one he used to have. Its a giant fluffy brown blanket that he stole😳 through someones window( saw it, stuck his arm through to window, starts pulling it out and is struggling because he underestimated its size, its owner, who was IN THE ROOM, starts pulling it back and yelling, kirby had already gotten too deep he gotta commit, so he eventually wins the tug o war and scurries off w it). his butterfly knives later hold emotional value when one of the turtles etches Anata wa hitori ja nai when kirby is accepted into the fam.

Kirby would spend a lazy day to go on walk, rollerblade, just be outside. But if theres someone around, he will just try to join in on whatever they are doing, if nothing to di w them, he shall suggest a movie or crafts of some kind.

When kirby needs to feel comfortable, he would prefer to be in a quiet place or go with someone he trusts (ex raph, the other turtles too as time goes on). Another comfort is his blanket specifically or any blanket in general, he likes being warm.

Kirby’s sleeping habits are BAD due to his fear of dreaming that he has developed. His favorite sleeping position is on his back but most surfaces arent squishy enough for him to lay on his back due to his shell shape, his second favorite is fetal position. Kirby twitches and moves a LOT in his sleep unless its a super deep sleep, then hes totally still. If he’s sleeping with someone then he will often gravitate towards the warmth of the person, if not clinging to, hes at least touching them.

Oh kirby is picky with his food alright. He grew up in his dad’s restaurant (minotaurs pizza) and he expects everything he eats to be of that “high” quality (hes alwayss disappointed).Also ironically he mostly snacks on very not high quality food throughout the day instead if eating meals. he will at least try whatever you give him but he will complain the whole time. He has a borderline addiction to butter and buttery foods.

Their usual morning routine is not very set in stome for kirby, it fluxuates from day to day and where he is.

Their idea of a perfect hangout would be to go skate around somewhere not too busy or loud (maybe in naturee🤔) and then go get the “butter safe then sorry”(lmao) pizza from minotaurs pizza and then go to someones house and watch a movie

he dodsnt know what that is

At a party you would find kirby smuggling food in his pockets, either being really good or horribly bad at a party game, or scaring the hoes😔

for an event he would dress slightly different than he normally does and think its dressed up

Kirby dresses for comfort rather than style (his one rule for dressing is just NO PINK)

NO NONO NOnot like leo LMAOO

i dont knowww

some things people assume he doesnt know or can do: knows how to to churn butter so thats a thing that he can do. He is pretty good at fighting though his form is shit. he is knowledgeable on agriculture and earth stuff. Some things people assume he does know but he doesnt: this guy CANNOT spell and does not know what a lot of the words he uses mean. he cant ica skate (it is NOT the same as rollerblading) or skateboard.

He is really good at rollerblanding and negotiating, he is really bad at reading and writing

Kirby is good with money, hes very cheap and also very reluctant to spend it, so, he ends up saving lots of it.

kirby is NOT bilingual (I know I know sorry to disappoint the fans). He stuggled to learn his first language he couldnt speak another if he tried.

Kirby does like to sing but he is so bad at it. He is not confident in it. He will sing super loud if he knows hes alone (he WILL swear off singing if caught).

Kirby doesnt like the shopping aspect of gift giving (online shopping HAYES to see him coming but he doesnt have a credit card soo) but he LOVES seeing the person glow when they see what he got them. Kirby is actually a phenomenal gift giver.

Kirby can take a liking to a place so fast, but it will take a while for his perspective to shift from the old home to the new one. If he comes back to a place more than once than its a contender for a home.

Kirby would react to a dirty joke by immediately shifting to a blank expression and slowly turning to stare at the person whi said it.

The most stupid and dangerous thing hes ever done is either try to tame repos cat or stay awake for a long period of time alone in the city with a fucked up body

In the situation where he had to choose, he would rather stay loyal to the people he loves

Kirby would want to be remembered for being right.

If they were to commit a crime(he has commit it already) I would be theft alll the theft. or poisoning someone (he REALLY had to fight the urge when he was working at minotaurs).

OC questions

60 questions that can be made into an OC ask game, or you can just fill everything out yourself to get to know your character a little better :)

___

[1] What first impression do they typically make? Are they likeable from the get go, or take time to grow on people?

[2] How does their social personality differ from how they act when they’re alone?

[3] What emotion is the hardest for them to deal with?

[4] How physically and emotionally affectionate they are?

[5] Are they good at keeping secrets?

[6] How direct are they in conversations, do they speak in hints and riddles or bluntly say what they think?

[7] Are they a good liar, and what would they probably lie about?

[8] How open they are about their true feelings, both positive and negative?

[9] What is their love language?

[10] How quickly do they fall for someone?

[11] What are small things that make them happy?

[12] How high is their self-esteem?

[13] What kind of sense of humor do they have, if any?

[14] What does it take to make them laugh, and what does their laugh sound like?

[15] How do they act around people they don't like?

[16] Do they easily rely on others to help them out, or prefer doing everything themselves?

___

[17] What is their biggest struggle that no one around them is able to understand or believe?

[18] Do they ever have to hide their identity and for what reason?

[19] If they could change one thing about their past, what would they change?

[20] When they’re sad or upset, do they need company or some time alone?

[21] When they’re sick, would they want others to visit and take care of them, or they would rather prefer not to be seen at not their best?

[22] Do they have nightmares, and if yes, when did they start and what are they usually about?

[23] What was the worst, the darkest period of their life that they have been through?

[24] How hard it is for them to not allow their emotions to cloud their judgement?

[25] Do they have fears and phobias, and if they do, do they usually keep it to themselves or talk about it openly?

[26] Do they have any physical or mental ilness, how do they handle it and how open they are about it?

[27] Do they have any scars, how did they get them and how do they feel about them?

[28] What is something that they will never be able to forgive?

[29] How do they deal with loss, stress and anger?

[30] What are their most healthy and most unhealthy coping mechanisms?

[31] How hard it is for them to own up to their mistakes and wrongdoings?

[32] Is there something they've done in the past that they deeply regret till this day?

[33] What are one of their fondest and most treasured memories?

___

[34] Do they have vices they don't want others to know about?

[35] Do they like their own appearance, and what do they do, if anything, to alter it in any way?

[36] Do they own items that have sentimental value?

[37] How would they spend a lazy day when they have nothing specific to do?

[38] What do they usually do or where do they go when they need to feel comfortable and safe?

[39] What is their sleeping habits and favorite sleeping position, either alone and with someone?

[40] How picky they are with food, do they have specific dietary requirements based on their health or culture?

[41] What’s their usual morning routine?

[42] What is their idea of a perfect friendly hangout and/or romantic date?

[43] Do they enjoy flirting or being flirted with?

[44] On a party, where would you find them?

[45] For an event, would they dress like they typically do, or go all out?

[46] Would they rather dress to look attractive or to feel comfortable, and what would they never wear?

[47] Do they drink alcohol, and if they do, how much and how often?

[48] Are they, or were they at some point in their life, a part of any subculture?

___

[49] Do they possess any unexpected skill or knowledge that surprises others, and otherwise, what is something anyone would assume they know or can do, but in fact they don’t?

[50] What are they really good and really bad at?

[51] How good are they with money?

[52] Do they speak any other languages aside from their own?

[53] Do they like to sing and how confident they are with their singing?

[54] Do they like giving gifts, and how good are they at picking good gifts?

[55] How long does it take for them to make a new place feel like home, and what do they need for it?

[56] How would they react to hearing a dirty joke?

[57] What was the most stupid or dangerous thing they have ever done?

[58] In the situation where they had to choose, would they rather stay loyal to their morals or to people they love?

[59] What would they want to be remembered for?

[60] If they were to commit a crime, what kind of crime would it most likely be?

---

some of these question were written myself, some are the courtesy of my friend, and some were brought from my questionnaires in my old fandom. if you use them, please reblog or link back to this post

[bubblez-bubble]

Guys.

Natsu leaving Lucy with nothing but a note was way sadder than you think.

The last words Lucy ever heard from her father she didn't even actually get to hear, she read them on paper.

So imagine how devastated she was that Fairy Tail disbanded and she went home to find a note from Natsu that he was leaving without her. (Honestly I think I have that switched, please correct me if I do.)

But just like when her dad died, when Natsu left she felt like she had no one left and no home to go back to anymore, so she packed up and left for Crocus to start over.

Now I don't know if Layla got the chance to speak to Lucy with any final goodbyes before she passed, but let's believe for a moment that she didn't and that she left Lucy with a letter explaining how much her mother loved her like her father did. Yes the circumstances are different, but also bare in mind no parent wants to see their child suffer, so forcing Lucy to watch Layla die slowly and painfully probably wasn't on Laylas agenda.

So it's plausible she also left Lucy with a letter.

Which also makes her writing letters to her mom and dad after they die even sadder, even though she knows they'll never get to read them, that was the note they left her on.

So with that mind, it stands to reason that Lucy subconsciously associates receiving a letter from someone as a goodbye is a final goodbye and she'll never get to see them again.

Which could explain why she was so distressed about Natsu leaving her with a note instead of talking her face-to-face. She probably would've been more understanding and less upset about Natsus decision had he actually talked to her.

Sure there may have been a "let me come with you" back and forth, but if Natsu had told her no and explained why, she probably would've been able to let him go easier with that understanding.

But because at least one, potentially two people, had left her with no more than a letter as a final goodbye, it's possible that Natsus "harmless" note was actually extremely emotionally damaging for Lucy and maybe even traumatizing. Because people that leave her with letters are people she never gets to see or hear from again.

Now you could argue Natsu left a note and not a letter, but pen on paper is still pen on paper and words that'll never be spoken aloud.

On the flip side to this, a small part of me feels that Natsu leaving Lucy with a note was also a call back to the time Lucy left him with a note when she went to confront her father.

Except, if that's the case, it almost makes it hard to feel bad for Lucy.

In Natsus note he explained he and Happy were going away to train and even specified how long they'd be gone.

Lucy's note simply said "I will go home."

That's it.

No timeline of when or if she'll return.

No explanation why.

Nothing.

"I will go home."

Which makes Natsu and the others panicking and going to get her back make a lot of sense because that makes it sound like she's going home and staying put to protect them.

Which would've been sweet if that's what she was actually doing.

In my opinion, her note should've said something along the lines of "I'm going home to stop my father, I'll return soon." or something to that degree.

The only reason it's easier to feel bad for Lucy is because unlike Lucy who specified her location (kind of), and made it easier for them to find her (because obviously if you ask enough people about an affluent family, chances are somebody knows where they live), while Natsu gave no direction at all, just that he was leaving to train and would be back in a year.

Each of their notes complimented each other in a way, each leaving out details the other made sure to include, almost as if Natsu remembered how freaked out he was when Lucy left with a note and made sure to include the details she hadn't before, but forgetting to mention the details she did give them, or perhaps, the more likely option, he didn't quite yet know his destination because he was traveling to train and just couldn't give her one.

Which their notes being the exact opposite of each other's on almost opposite ends of the series is like their relationship itself.

Lucy, a bright, intelligent, beautiful, and emotionally fragile girl who knows who she is and where she's going in life and shes happy with it, and then there's Natsu, not exactly the smartest, canonically considered ugly (because the people of their world are fucking blind!), and very stoic and self preserved with his emotions for the most part (unless it helps him unlock some important plot device power up), he struggles with who he is or which direction his life is heading, all he knows is he needs to get stronger.

She's calm, he's impulsive.

She thinks with her head, he acts with his heart.

Even their living situations are complete opposites, which, a little psychology lesson real quick, actually reflects on their mental states. Lucy's apartment is always cleaned and organized just like her thoughts while Natsus house is cluttered and dirty like his thoughts.

These two were literally made to compliment one another, right down to how they took off with nothing but a note.

With that in mind, it's very sweet that they compliment each other so well to that degree, however it still doesn't change the fact that it's possible that to Lucy, Natsu's note felt like a final goodbye like she had received from her father and potentially (not canonically) her mother.

I know this is a little scattered but it all came back to the note in the end at least. 😅

Thanks for coming to my very scatter-brained Ted talk.

[fee224]

First kisses

Rafe cameron x overlooked!reader

When he invited you over you were expecting a town house maybe, or an apartment. Just something smaller than this. He told you he lived alone, which meant a nineteen year old rafe Cameron owned this.

He told you he’d “swing by” after golf to pick you up, so now you were following after him as he swung his keys, leading you through the front door.

“All of this is yours?” You said, your mouth gaping accidentally. It had been four days since your date, and you for some reason missed rafe terribly.

“Ah yeah, kinda lonely sometimes but…. Not really here much so..” he rubbed his hand over his mouth. casually opening doors for you, only for you to wait for him to also come through the door so you were following him again.

“Hmmm it’s nice” you smiled up at him, and for some weird reason he took your smile as an invitation to hold your hand. So now he was holding your hand, leading you to the sliding glass doors that lead to his pool. “Glad you think so” he winked and your head span in the other direction quickly to hide the flush.

“You brought your bikini right? Or not bikini- your swimming costume or- whatever the fuck yo-” he stumbled over his words “uh huh I did” you smiled again, interrupting him, something he usually didn’t like, but he smiled.

“I actually saw ward and rose and wheezie at the club yesterday, I was wondering if you were with them” you sat on the beach chair next to rafes, stating the sentence you rehearsed in your mirror countless times, as a conversation starter.

“Well no, I was working yesterday so I opted out, only really see them at the weekend for barbecues now that I moved out” he dragged your beach chair closer, a makeshift beach bed, you lifted your legs, lying down and resting your hands on your stomach.

“How come you move out so early, seems so scary” you stared up at him as he adjusted the towel above you.

“S’not really, needed independence. I mean I love dad and rose, and my sisters but just prefer this” he shrugged, and when he laid down his more muscley arm brushed against yours.

“You like it all by yourself?” You pouted, although he couldn’t see when he laid next to you. You turned on your side so you felt like you were talking to him, so you could remember what it feels like later.

He sighed deeply “never said that, just….” His head shifted to turn to meet yours. You knew what he meant. You silently looked at each other until you spoke in a quiet whisper “why’d you call rose, rose not mom?”

“Shit i did, huh? Well rose isn’t my mom” you frowned in confusion.

“She’s not?” You’re surprised you didn’t know this, your mom knew the Camerons well, but she never mentioned that.

“No, ah mom died when I was small” you accidentally gasped, death stirring an odd reaction out of you always.

“M’sorry rafe” you reached out for him, and rested your hand on his which he just chuckled at, lifting his arm up for you, tucking you under.

“Watcha sorry for baby?” So casually he name dropped baby. You shook your head wanting to giggle and scream and not be as red as you were right now. You wondered what he thought of you. He had to have a romantic intentions if he was calling you baby.

“Nothing” you went quiet, so close to rafe, your head almost laying on his chest, being able to hear and feel his heartbeat.

“You should come” your head lifted, to gift a puzzled look “to a barbecue, meet my family” he nodded, trying to convince you.

“No no, I don’t think so..” your head flopped back down to rest on the skin lower than his shoulders.

“It’ll be fun. I mean dad usually has his brother and my cousins, Sarah brings John b, wheezie almost always has friends over. You can just stick by my side, it’s no pressure” his hand was stroking over your waist comfortingly and you softly shook your head again.

“Not good with people rafe” you murmured at the embarrassing fact. Refusing to look him in the eyes.

“S’not true, you’re good with me” you could hear the smile in his voice, and he could hear the nervousness in yours. He pinched your hip making you squeal, followed by a panting giggle as you tried to playfully push him, rafe not budging an inch.

“Move rafe!” You closed your eyes, pushing harder until he was lifting himself up, his hands reaching for your face, and kissing you.

It took you a few seconds to kiss him back, your first kiss, you weren’t sure what to do else than mirror rafes movements. His hands were in the chub of your hips, kneading your skin soothingly.

He was kissing you so delicately, painfully slow, so slow that you whispered a moan into his mouth. He pulled back, you staring at him, kissing your own lips inwards at the strange swelling feeling, a small giggle escaping your lips as you looked down at your fingers sitting in between your crossed legs, feeling silly.

“Thanks rafe” you whispered, still giggling at a tiny volume.

“Don’t thank me for kissing you” he smiled downwards, laughing too quietly. Doing everything to make sure you were comfortable and weren’t gonna run from him.

You leant over the deck chair to peck his lips once more before returning back to your chair. He smiled at your frantic sweet mannerisms, needing to desperately cool down in the pool.

- fee xxx

[leyavo]

| I am my father's daughter |

💖 Dad!Price x Daughter!reader

PART TWO: Agreeing to let Toff check you over, you make the decision of whether not you want to stay with your dad or just take off, which would be so much easier.

TW: Hurt/angst/mentions of abuse/comfort/ some TF141 too. [Part one] [Series masterlist] 3026words

Toff lived up to her nickname, no letters dropped at the end of her words like the team your dad had around him. No she was posh, well spoken and had the accent of someone that came from old money.

The gold designer watch on her wrist and the rock of an engagement ring, also telling enough. Her fingers prodded the yellowing bruise on your rib cage, the rock dazzling under the light, blinding you each time she moved.

She doesn't fit in, too put together compared to the likes of your father. He's still wearing some sort of hat, whether its the ridiculous army bucket hat or a snug knitted fisherman one, if he's not it's stuffed in his back pocket. You're convinced he's still got the same Levi jeans, a few added scrapes and as he says, they wear well. There's an array of plaid and flannel shirts in varying colours hanging in his wardrobe, like another uniform he wears on his downtime instead of his camo gear.

Your dad had slipped that she went to some prestigious medical school before working in the military. Not that it mattered it to you, you'd see a vet if it meant they wouldn't talk to your dad.

Thankfully she made your dad wait in the hall, her office door shut as she assessed you. If you got this over with, you could leave and not have to speak of it ever again. You could just imagine him pacing the hallway, halting to greet the soldiers calling him captain and then resuming his pacing.

Being the Captain’s daughter also meant you had a shared family health plan with him. One you’d never heard of before. He did use to remind you to go for dental and medical check ups, but moving around when you were younger made it difficult. Your mother reluctant to fill out forms to sign you up to a new doctor’s surgery because she wasn’t sure if the new home was long term. Shocker, they never were.

"You won't, uh tell my dad?" You asked as you rolled the layers of clothing back down.

Toff tipped your chin up with her finger, "all patient records are confidential, even if your dad's Captain Price." She pushed her chair back wheeling it to the desk and picking up a pair of tweezers, sliding back to you.

She peered over her thick framed glasses at you, turning your face side to side inspecting the gash above your brow. The metal of the tweezer cool against your skin, she prodded the tape drawing back with a nod of satisfaction.

"Soap patched you up well," Toff said handing you a plastic cup of water and some painkillers.

"Sorry, what," you blurted out, choking on the water.

Humming Toff nodded, "he's good with light touch, probably why your dad got him to fix you up whilst you were out cold." She managed to get hold of some of your medical records, which she requested last night. No doubt your dad had called as soon as you fell asleep in the car and asked her for a favour.

You muttered a string of curse words under your breath, did the whole bloody army base know what happened last night? Toff was too busy reading your record, brows scrunching as she double clicked the mouse.

"You broke your wrist six years ago, but never had surgery," she said, turning the computer screen for you to see the x-ray. "The follow up on here, shows your bone moved during it was in a cast, but your guardian refused surgery." Her pen circling the area of the screen for you.

"We were moving and it felt fine," you shrugged, looking down at your wrist. You wondered if your dad knew about that one.

"Does it bother you now?" Toff said, returning to you and picking up your right wrist, pushing your sleeve up. "Huh, there's a lump there, does that hurt? Any regular pain? Does it restrict you from doing certain things, this is your dominant hand?" Her hazel eyes snapped up to yours as you snatched your wrist back and shoved the sleeve back down.

All of her questions spun around in your head, you hadn't even thought about the pain when there was other things to worry about.

Toff stood from her chair, palms raised as if you were going to bolt out of the room, you wanted to.

"Sorry, didn't mean to pry. Is that all you need me to take a look at?"

"Yes, thanks,” you snapped, flinging your hoody back on and zipping it up.

You're ready to bid your dad goodbye and never look back, but as you swung the door open you crashed into the back of someone else.

Soap's light touch kept you upright, you're trying not to think of him patching you up whilst you slept. The thought alone making you feel pathetic, small in his presence. Like you can't even look after yourself.

“Captain got called in,” Soap said, as if that’s supposed to mean anything to you. You’re used to him coming and going, more focused on his job than you.

More interested in his team, how he so easily referred to Soap as son. You haven’t even been there for a day and he’s found another family, leaving you to feel like a spare part. You want to hate Soap, but you don’t know him. Don’t know your dad the way they do.

The walls began to press in and you took off down the narrow corridor, your sight on the world outside. You needed fresh air, needed to catch your breath and not fall apart in front of Soap.

"Hey, woah," Soap called after you, his boots stomping as he tried to catch up. "dammit slow down would ya, like a fuckin’ greyhound."

You forced the door open with a bit too much force and they slammed against the stairs railing as you rushed down the steps.

"I am not a dog!" You spun around, jabbing his chest with your finger. The cool air swept your hair across your face, drawing a deep breath from you. You watched Soap's chest rise and fall as if he was coaching your breathing.

He tucked the curtain of hair shielding your eyes behind your ear, "feel better now?"

“I’d feel a whole lot better if you signed me out right now.” You raised your brow, wincing at the tape pulling it tight.

Soap shook his head, falling into step beside you. He waved, signalling for the guard to let you both through the gate back into the residential area “Your dad’s a good man, why don’t you give him a chance?”

“Because I’m not a soldier, he had his chance six years ago.” The three years he didn’t reach out, didn’t bother checking in on you. Only to find out he had another kid, another family.

You didn’t miss the tic of his jaw or the gulp he took. All the little signs you looked for when you said the wrong thing, you were good at noticing the change in people. Knew how even the nicest ones could change like a flick of a switch.

Soap leant down, face close to yours that you could feel his hot breath fanning the curve of your nose. “Look, if you’re only here to piss off your dad, I’ll sign you out right now. Hell I’ll even take the blame for you leaving, just don’t go asking him about six years ago.”

“Got it,” you said, voice low but good enough for him to hear. The tension in your body kept you in place, breath trembling as he backed off and started walking ahead.

You trailed after him, keeping your distance incase he turned around again. The beating of your heart drummed against your chest, palms sweating as you balled them up inside your pockets.

Why were you so pathetic when confronted? You could just hear your dad’s voice in the back of your head telling you to knee him in the groin. Take up some space so they can’t take all of yours.

Space, exactly what you needed after being stuck in house with a team of men. You slipped through the front door, not glancing at Soap as you rushed to the safety of your dad’s room.

Shutting the door, you pressed your back against the wood panel. The lock sliding into place, your body slumping to the floor and arms wrapping around your legs as you brought them into your chest.

Your small area of safety calming you. After a moment of silence, you picked yourself up and climbed under the duvet. The memory foam mattress too hard on your back that you flipped over on your stomach, closing your eyes.

-

The constant buzzing of your phone drew you out of your sleep, your eyes heavy as you squinted at the window. You don't know why your dad opened the blinds, the sun making it harder for you to focus. His half of the bed smooth and tucked underneath the mattress, not a crease in sight till you tugged the duvet.

Numb tingles danced across your upper back, you groaned into your pillow and attempted to roll your shoulder. Searing pain stopping you before you could rise from the bed.

Eying the alarm clock, you stumbled out of the room and down the hallway to the bathroom. You're glad the others are training this afternoon and you can sort this out yourself. It can't be that bad.

You pulled your hoody over your head, wincing at the pull of your arm stretching the skin across your shoulder blade.

Peering over your shoulder, you looked at your reflection in the mirror and your fingers pressing into the red skin. A weeping wound oozed yellow pus just right of your back below your neck. You'd forgotten about the graze, too distracted by Toff questioning your broken wrist.

You added a little more pressure and clutched the edge of the sink, black dots lining your vision. You heard the thud before you felt your body fall to the floor.

Sweat ran down your forehead, the cool tiles beneath you a welcome addition against the heat of your skin. Since when were you so hot? your breaths quickened as you tried to focus on your phone across the bathroom. Your hand aching to reach for it.

Maybe if you just rested for a little.

John couldn't wait to sit outside and have a cigar. The day had knocked him, your call in the early hours of the morning throwing him off track and his duties as a captain, a father. He hated how he got called away whilst he waited for Toff to check you over, hoping to catch you before you went on another stroll around the base to get away from his questioning.

He pulled his boots off and added them to the shoes lined up by the door, the living room and kitchen were clear. The mumbled tones of his teammates drew his attention to the hallway. He dragged a hand down his face, hoping he wouldn't have to readjust yet another bathroom schedule.

John joined the guys huddled by the closed bathroom door, looking around Soap for a clue of what the hell they were doing. "I mean we could shimmy the door open, pop it out of the frame with a bit of force," Ghost said, his calloused hand tracing the wood.

They’re all covered in sweat from their training session. Thinking they’d revert back to their bathroom schedules like normal, but they’re locked out. Only the new recruits use the communal showers.

"I don't think kickin’ the door in, is gonna make the lass feel safe." Soap said, arm shooting across the guys before they could move. The warped door's been wreaking havoc since they were assigned the house, but they haven't been bothered about taking it off and shaving it down or replacing the temperamental lock. That or wait on the long list of maintenance services.

“What the hell are you boneheads going on about?” John grumbled, their heads snapping towards him as they finally realised he was there. He glanced to the lock picking device in Ghost’s hand and the dagger wedged into the crack of the door.

“The doors locked, she was talking a second ago…” Gaz winced as the captain’s fist banged against the door shaking the whole wall.

John held his hand over his shoulder silencing them all behind him, his head titling as he tried to listen for any movement. Another knock on the door, "hey kiddo, you alright in there? If you can hear me give me something, anything."

A light tap bounced back, the tension in the captains shoulders easing at the sound.

"Can't kick the door in, there ain’t enough room in there for it to fall. Could hurt her," Gaz said, he yanked the dagger out of the door and shoved it back into Soap's hand.

"Could take the window out and go in that way." Ghost added, as if they were planning to scale a building and ambush a rogue team.

Their mumbled voices merged together in the cramped hallway.

"Window it is."

Gaz volunteered to climb through the second floor window and break the lock from the inside. John holding his breath as he waited on the other side, his chest stung at the sight of you in Gaz's arms. The ringing in his ear and the hands pushing him forwards kept him in tow behind Gaz. You were so pale, words slurred and hand dropping over his arm like a dead weight.

John was no stranger to the infirmary, he'd been sat either at someone's bedside or the unconscious one receiving aid. What he wasn't used to though, was his daughter strung up with an IV and sleeping off the medication Toff had given her.

Nurses flitted back and forth from the bed, herding John to the side as they assessed you. Gaz and Soap had gone back to the house to sleep, Ghost fixed the door and the lock and stopped by to give the captain a strong flask of coffee leaving straight after.

The constant questions, ones he didn't know since he'd never been asked before. How could he not know if you were allergic to anything or if there were any underlying health issues? It hadn't even been two days since you'd come back into his life and he didn't know you at all.

Hours had passed since Gaz had carried you through the house and to the infirmary. Your skin pale and clammy, hair sticking to your forehead. He'd never seen you like that, lost for words as he trailed after them.

The marks of another man's grasp circled your bicep, green bruise fading, but visible as you laid in the bed. John thought the split lip and gashes on your head and brow were bad, the wound on your back much worse. Couldn't understand how you carried the pain so well, as if you'd mastered putting up with it. That scared him.

He nodded to the nurse as she finished her shift, the clipboard at the end of your bed falling to the floor. He picked it up flicking through the pages and shuffling them back into the file. His hands hesitating as he read your name, Marston not Price. Was he that detached from your life that you'd dropped his last name? He'd even put his surname for you when he'd signed you into the base and you hadn't said anything when you looked at the visitor pass.

A hand smoothed across his back, chair scraping along the floor beside him. “Lucky girl, Cap. Mild case of sepsis, good that you caught on to it early and brought her in," Toff said, she leant her elbows on her knees and ducked her head to catch John's gaze.

He couldn't glance at her though, his gaze on his hand on top of yours. "You were supposed to check her over," he snarled, more angry at himself for not paying enough attention than at Toff.

"She didn't show me the wound on her back, just some bruising and the marks on her face that were visible. If I'd have known John..." Her words cut off by John's hand patting her knee.

"How she looking?"

"You caught it in the early stages, could be a few days or a week or more. She'll need to be monitored here and make sure the infection has gone. A wound like that though with the placement, would have made it difficult for her to tend to herself." Toff flicked through the medical chart, eyes flitting to the heart monitor as she walked around the bed.

John didn't want to think about you alone, isolated from people that could help and care for you. How you lacked a family and friends to lean on during those times. His mind consumed with finding whoever did this to you. Ghost had already asked him if he wanted him to look into it.

Toff hooked up another bag of IV, silently bidding him goodbye and returning to her office over the other side of the infirmary. Door ajar incase she was needed.

A twitch of your finger tapped against John's, followed by the hurried beat of the heart monitor. You whimpered in to the pillow, rapid movement fluttering under your eyelids.

“You’re okay, kid. Just relax, your old man’s right here,” he said, adjusting your pillow and smoothing your hair out of the way.

“Captain,” you slurred, lazy smile tugging your lips. You struggled to keep your eyes open, but you clutched his pointer finger like you used to as a kid.

You’d called him Captain as a kid, your mother’s doing as she used to tell you stories about daddy becoming one, one day. Playing soldiers whenever he came home and he’d always let you be the captain, your little voice commanding him to play.

"I've got you kid, you're safe."

- thank you for all your lovely comments on the first part!! :) more parts to come soon! Hope you liked it - Leya