#I just cannot imagine her with anyone else except for him

[lizard-speed]

see like, i know that realistically tasha probably *would* be gay but in my heart she and data are in love and i can't deny that to myself

[dontbesoweirdkira]

Okay, so, the ask about yandere platonic dick cheating and how the reader would react has me wondering; what would happen if the reader somehow found out that Dick didn't actually change and decided to go no contact, because they couldn't trust him or maybe because they just don't want to be around someone like that? Would that cause Dick to spiral more? What exactly would be the consequences of going no contact? (Like a complete cut off, although it'd be a bit hard to do that since they live in the same house)

(I was a bit disappointed to read that he probably wouldn't change, but it seemed realistic to me because habits are hard to break and everyone in the batfam is messed up. Although, I imagine after years of therapy or something similar there might be some sort of change. But, I doubt anyone in the batfam is getting therapy... except maybe reader)

Sorry yeah, i don't like to think Dick is actually a cheater or this shitty. I just like to humor different scenarios i get requested. But you cannot deny that this man is a messy whore. THIS IS THE FACE OF EVILLL

context

Look, cheaters are so sloppy. Even the ones who put the most effort into it are always bound to slip up. I imagine batsis isn't a fool. Like Richard...no way did you just go from being a serial cheater to suddenly being completely cleansed. You're an addict baby boy.

Like i said at first he's actually wanting to get clean for his baby sis and to be a good role model. I think it'd be very obvious to you that he's actually trying. He's irritable and really struggling to cope with the fact he has to put the phone down. You can see him obsessively checking his phone for what you'd assume to be a message or notification from one of his hookups. You can tell he's torn up about loosing his partners because he came clean about his unethical practices....

There's no hiding. This is such a deep seeded issue and it is really taking a toll on him. This is something like you said will need YEARS of therapy to fix.

So now Dick is trying to bullshit you a few days later...right in front of your salad! He's just sooo happy and he's proud about this new leaf turned????? Yesterday he looked like he was about to breakdown in tears because he'd been abstinent for just 48 hrs...and now he's glowing???

Dick, your patrol ended at 2 am last night...you came home at 6 am...please don't play with me rn.

not me getting heated. lol

He doesn't explicitly tell you he's back to his old ways. He's willing to keep lying his way into keeping you and this habit but it's undeniable. You know that his gf only forgave him because he lied to her too. It makes you sick when you saw the text of him telling her that he's busy with family and then left out for the rest of the day to go be with someone else.

Maybe you explode on him about it? Last time you were as nice as you could be about it but you cannot deal with the games anymore.

I liked to think in this scenario you're yelling at him and he's just still gas-lighting you, He throws every card to make you feel bad for accusing him. It absolute drives you mad. He's just so calm while you're are trying not to strangle him.

"Baby bat, i love you. I think you're just tired and are imagining things. You're convincing yourself that i'm still the old Dick because you're hurting...i understand and I forgive you. Maybe we should set up therapy sessions to help you let go of the past? Hmm?"

"YOU MOTHER FU-"

Ugh but i love him he's so fucked

The irony of him suggesting you therapy when he's the one riddles with mommy issues and the most insane coping mechanisms...

Dick isn't going to allow you to go no contact. You cannot go no contact with someone you live in the same house with. You are bound to interact and when you are dealing with someone like dick...it just won't work. The bat kids are extremely resilient and are well versed in making someone crack. You wouldn't be the exception.

More realistically you'd probably just be cold towards Dick. That's the best you can do. Not really responding to him and basically stone walling...

But i imagine this version of Dick to be much more forceful. He's done with your self righteousness. How dare you suggest moving out. That isn't an option because he needs to see his baby sister everyday. You are breaking up the family over this. You cannot cut him off because he's flawed...it's not that serious y/n. None of the other siblings are breathing down his neck. Maybe if you weren't so frustrating..he could actually become a better person. You are the one that is preventing him from being better with all your pressure!!

You packed your bags and are fully ready to walk out of this family for good because there's just too many wrong doings swept under the rug and here comes dick who is FUMING... He's trying to rip your bags out of your hands and grab you up..

You are not doing this to him. Stop being so-

Maybe your siblings step in and help you to leave. They help Dick calm down because they respect that it's your choice to live how you'd life.

Dick isn't stopping once you're gone. Especially if you're still in Gotham. There's a shadow that follows you where you go. Tons of messages and calls from unknown numbers. Even scarily enough..a blue toy bird left at your door with a small note that read

"Missed me, my little birdie? We'll be seeing each other again soon."

[undertheorangetree]

Pomegranate Seeds

Summary- A retelling of the abduction of Persephone.

Warnings- MDNI 18+ NSFW. Female reader. Hades and Persephone AU. Star-crossed lovers vibes. Uncle/niece incest. Making out. Angst. Fluff. Titty sucking. Handjob. Cunnilingus. Vaginal fingering. Soft smut. Mild praise kink. Mildly OOC Aemond.

Author's Notes- Yeah I was a Percy Jackson/Greek mythology kid, thank you for noticing. I'm still playing incredibly fast and loose with the mythology tho so we're gonna have to make our peace with that. This is a beast btw, it's like 9.6K and you can find the rest on AO3 with the link below :)

divider created by @firefly-graphics

It is moments like these, she thinks, that she loves most.

Alone in the meadow, surrounded by wildflowers, the babbling of the creek as it flows over the rocks. Everything green with the exception of the purple, white, and yellow flowerheads but lush and everbearing and alive, the sun little more than a hazy warm glow, not yet hot enough to be overbearing. It is peaceful here, so much more than she is used to. She had come to an agreement with her step sisters, Baela and Rhaena, that they allow her a few hours on her own in this meadow, undisturbed by anyone else. Though her mother much preferred to that she remain alongside her sisters whenever she is out of sight, she, Baela, and Rhaena had come to an agreement that what her mother didn’t know couldn’t hurt her. And besides, they were never too far away from her. Being water nymphs, they could be by her side in less than a moment if she really needed them, so long as she doe does not stray too far from the river. And she has never been more grateful for it than she is right now.

Stretching her arms high above her head, she stretches out along the grass, enjoying the feeling of every blade of grass, the sweet smell of the blooms wafting on the breeze. Admittedly, this meadow had not been quite so plentiful when they had found it, following along the winding river, but she is the goddess of spring. Flowers bloom at her word and sun shines with her will. It had not been too difficult to turn this meadow into her own personal paradise, away from the chaos often wrought by her mother and brothers and stepfather.

There is a sudden change in the wind that causes her to sit up. Colder than it had been before, something more akin to winter than spring. The ground seems to rumble beneath her, shaking as if the sudden cold has sent it to shiver. Curiously, she turns her head toward the tree line, where the birches and willows keep the meadow shielded from view, only to find a man standing among them. Dressed in all black- breeches, cloak, and the shred of his tunic she can see beneath it- his platinum hair is almost jarring in contrast. He is not a big man, long and lithe, but there is an air to him that feels dangerous, dangerous enough to give her pause. He has not noticed her yet, face turned away, but she can see the long, stern plains of his face from where she sits, looking incredibly serious. That seriousness is only exacerbated by the dark leather eyepatch covering the eye closest to her, a deep red scar carved beneath it.

She does not think she has ever seen anyone here before, not outside of Baela, Rhaena, and herself, and his presence here is almost incongruous. Still, there is an air about him, one that makes it clear that he is a god just as she is, and that alone should make his surprise appearance less shocking.

“Hello.”

The sound of her voice seems to catch him off guard. Quickly, he turns toward her, shoulders tense, but they relax when he takes her in. She cannot imagine that she is intimidating, sitting flat in the grass all alone. “Hello.”

But it is that reminder of the grass that brings her pause. What is this man doing here? Where had he come from? It is not as if this meadow is easy to find, hidden amongst the trees as it is. She feels her brows furrow, head cocking in question. “How did you find this place?”

She had not put a glamour over this meadow, but she did not feel she had too. The forest, though light and airy, was a labyrinth of trees that seemed deterrent enough to keep any unwanted guests away. They were incredibly difficult to find your way through and she had been convinced it would be impossible to try- for God or mortal.

Near impossible, it seemed then.

His eye darts back to the treeline, taking half a step back. “If I am intruding, I can leave.”

“No.” She says it far too quickly and she can see the way his eyebrows raise in response to it, but she can’t find it in her to be ashamed. She is intrigued by this man, more so than she likely should be, and finds she wants to know more. To learn how he came to find this place. “Just because this place is unknown does not mean it is mine alone. You may stay. Beauty like this should be enjoyed.”

“Wise words,” he agrees, coming toward her. He hesitates at the end, torn on whether or not to truly join her, but it seems courtesy wins out as he lowers himself to the ground, joining her amongst the flowers. He looks entirely out of place, black against the blooms, but she says nothing, keeping her observation to herself.

They sit in absolute silence but she does not mind. He sits stiffly, as if uncomfortable, while she continues to take in all that is around her. From here, she can see the way the willows sway with the wind, the white puffy clouds floating by in the soft blue sky.

“I did not mean to,” he says. She looks at him, head tilted once again. “To find this place. It was not my intention. Though I admit I have never seen anything quite like it.”

She smiles, though he could not possibly know that he had complimented her. “It is a rare thing.”

“It feels almost as if it were from a painting,” he adds, looking around the meadow to take it in further.

She joins him in it, finding no shame in admiring her own work. It is a pretty place, though that had always been her intention. Olympus was beautiful in and of itself, but it was stark in that way. Ethereal and otherworldly, but cosmopolitan. Bright white marble, painted statues, stained glass. Everything beautiful, to be sure, but not in the untamed way that she seemed to crave. She preferred the beauty that was found in nature, in heavy branches filled with green leaves, tall grasses and wildflowers and crystalline waters.

“Do you know much about art?” she asks to fill the silence.

He seems caught off guard again from her question, but answers it anyway. “Not as much as I would like, but I can appreciate the beauty in something as well as any man. Though do not tell anyone. It would ruin my reputation.”

She laughs. “You needn’t worry. Your secret is safe with me. Which periods do you prefer?”

They talk for hours, the conversation unfurling as naturally as a bird’s wing. Art, history, philosophy. There is no subject they do not indulge in. He becomes less awkward with time as he grows more comfortable around her and she almost pulls a laugh from him not once, but twice. It seems quite the feat, for a man as serious as this one seems to be, though she does not let her pride get the better of her. When she asks him how she managed to find her well kept secret, he had simply said that one always finds the best things when you are not looking for them. A non answer, but that was alright. She was sure she could coax the answer from him eventually.

“Forgive me, I never asked you your name,” she says after what must have been hours, half appalled by her lack of manners.

He does not seem to mind, a good natured half smile making its way onto his face. “My friends call me Aemond. You may as well.”

It is not uncommon, for Gods to prefer more earthly names. She is often the same. There is power within a name and for such an innocent encounter, she does not feel the need to have him call her Persephone or Kore or any of those that strike some rumination of power and fear. So she gives him her common name, the one she feels is more true to who she is, and he smiles in response to it, repeating it back to her as if to test it. She likes the way it sounds when he says it, the way each letter seems to roll off him tongue, and somehow hearing him say the word alone is enough to make her flush.

She turns her head to hide it and only then notices that the sun has dipped below the trees, leaving the sky a hazy orange. Her mother will be expecting her home soon and there is no telling how poorly she will react if Rhaena and Baela return home without her. She doesn’t doubt that Rhaenyra will send her great serpent Syrax after her should she be even a moment late.

“I have to go,” she says, unable to keep the apologetic tone from her voice.

Reluctantly, she stands, brushing the dirt from her skirts. His lips had parted at her announcement, but now he ducks his head in an understanding nod. She smiles at him, not truly wanting to go yet, and makes her way toward the creek to call upon her sisters to come and fetch her. She does not make it two steps before he is calling after her.

“Can I see you again?”

She turns back to look at him. The insecurity on his face does not seem to match his features, looking almost out of place there. Still, she finds it entirely endearing and she realizes that she would absolutely like to see him again.

“Yes,” she agrees softly.

“Tomorrow?”

She does not bother to fight the smile itching its way onto her face. “Yes.”

He matches her smile then before standing. He comes forward and takes her hand, bringing her knuckles to his lips and placing a chaste kiss there. “Then I shall see you on the morrow, my lady.”

She can do nothing but hope he does not notice how hot her face has become.

“On the morrow.”

Read the rest here

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

sweet dreams

pairing: james sunderland x reader? (written in third person pov, v ambiguous description of nameless woman)

cws/tags: smut, p in v, cheating? or is it?, not proofread, weird vibes and a little dark ig, but it's just the mood of the game

summary: james re-enters heaven's night and finds a woman who seems to remember him. he does not remember her. basically if maria successfully seduced him except it's not maria?

a/n: what is going on in this fic? idk

wc: 1.4k

Mary’s body lies cold in the backseat despite the blanket covering her. He will not find her in the gardens, the old apartment, or any hotel room. Only in a videotape in which she turns to static before it ends. 

The only warmth he has is the jacket he wears. Until he returns to Heaven’s Night. A certain familiarity struck him when he entered the building for the first time. Maybe it’s the stench of liquor, drawing him toward another reality, one void of grief. Maybe it’s the neon lights, the metal pole, a discarded bra. Maybe he’s been here before. The woman sitting at the bar looks at him as if he has. 

“James,” she says with an inviting smile. 

“How do you know my name?” he asks, taking cautious, yet steady steps in her direction. 

“How does anyone know anyone else’s name?” 

“Is that a riddle?”

“No, that was just a question. I’m not trying to trick you, James. I learned your name when you introduced yourself to me.”

“I don’t remember doing that. I don’t remember meeting you at all.”

“You’ve forgotten me already?” Her expression drops, every part of her face is disappointed. 

“I’m sorry. I’m just going through a lot right now. Don’t take it personally.” He finds himself reaching out his hand and placing it on her shoulder in an attempt to comfort her. 

“Let’s start over,” he suggests. 

She nods and pulls herself together. 

He holds out his hand, and she takes it into her own. Her hands are soft minus the sharp tips of her acrylic nails that tickle his skin. 

“You’re cold,” she remarks, and he cannot decide if her pout pities or mocks him. 

“No, I’m James,” he says, forcing the creases of his lips to turn upwards into something resembling a smile. “Remember?”

“Of course,” she says with a breathy giggle. 

“Now, how about you tell me your name?”

“You know people like me don’t give out our real names, don’t you?”

People like you… it takes him a moment to realize what she means: sex workers. 

“Oh. That’s right. But I’m guessing you have an alias or something.”

“I’ve been called many names. ‘Angel’ when I’m here at Heaven’s Night, ‘Kitty’ at The Catwalk, ‘Jade’ at Jewels, ‘Baby’ by some former lovers. Call me whatever you like.”

Choosing someone else’s name was not something he’d prepared for and it leaves him stumped for a moment. 

“Don’t overthink it,” she says cupping his cheek with her hand. “As long as it’s not Mary…” 

“Why not Mary?” He flinches at the sound of her name. 

She pretends like she didn’t hear him, and pays no mind to his nerves, shrugging them off as she leads him to a seat in front of the stage. 

He follows her, eyes stuck on her curves. He startles when she pushes him onto the loveseat. 

“James, baby,” she says, her voice softer, but just as sultry. “Why are you so nervous? You want this, don’t you?”

“I just feel like I shouldn’t, that’s all.”

“Your mind is playing tricks on you, then. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to see what a woman has to offer. It’s like window shopping, there’s no harm in looking.”

Before he can say anything else she finds a boombox in the corner and sets it up - in doing so, she leans over and reveals a tiny strip of lace underneath her skirt. 

James tries to quickly adjust his pants as she’s turned away from him, but she must know he’s hard. What’s the point in pretending?

When she steps onto the stage, she needs no introduction, only the opening synth of Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This) to lead her up the short set of stairs before she walks around the pole, prepared to do tricks that James’ imagination couldn’t conjure up even if he begged it to. But despite his amazement at the way her body bends, even more so when her clothes begin to disappear, it’s the moment she sits at the front of the stage and spreads her legs, giving him a better view of the red lace thong he got a peek at earlier, that really gets him going. 

He didn’t know he was hungry until he was starving. 

The music doesn’t stop, the cassette runs its course. The scantily-clad woman straddles James’ lap, just hovering but close enough to feel the warmth emanate from her body. 

“I know I said it’s just looking, but there wouldn’t really be any harm in touching me, would there?” 

She takes his hands in hers and places them on her chest. 

He can feel her tits, her skin, her heartbeat. She’s so warm, and real, and alive. There is the childlike urge to squeeze them, to hold and let go, make them bounce in front of his eyes, but instead, he slides his hands down her waist to her hips, sitting her firmly in his lap. 

“You’re so warm,” he says without thinking. 

“I’ll be cold soon if you leave me like this,” she says. Then, leans down to whisper in his ear, “Take off your clothes.”

When he asks, “are you sure?” it stumbles out of his mouth and lands with a groan as she peppers kisses down his neck.  

She only hums in response. He removes his jacket and unbuttons his shirt so her mouth can reach further – to his collarbone, while her hands travel to his poorly-hidden erection. 

She looks up at him and bats her eyelashes before going any further. It’s her way of asking permission. 

“I guess… as long as we don’t go too far…”

“We’ll just get naked, maybe even kiss, nothing more,” she says. 

So, he helps her get his pants off and she slips off her barely-there panties. 

He feels alive for the first time in years when her warm body touches his, skin-to-skin. 

He doesn’t protest when she kisses him, he closes his eyes and lets himself feel something other than dread for once. 

She surely feels his need prodding at her core, but she must feel his guilt as well because she assures him, “If it slips in by accident, then, it’s nobody’s fault, right?”

“Right,” he says, completely under her spell, nodding along. 

Of course there are no accidents. This is a mistake, not an accident. James knows this, but when she repositions her hips, he lets her wet heat envelope his cock. 

“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to…” she says, a tiny grin peeking through her faux-apology. 

“It’s okay, I’ll just pull out,” he says. And slowly, with a grunt, he does. 

He keeps a tight grip on her hips so he can guide her back to him. “You can sit back down now,” he says, with his cock ready to enter her again. 

“We’ll do better this time,” she says, rubbing her folds teasingly along his shaft before gripping it and sliding it inside her. 

“Sorry, it just, you know, slipped in,” he says, almost believing his own lies. 

“But it’s only the tip. It barely even counts, right?”

“Yeah, that’s right.” The music covers up his heavy breathing and her soft moans. But James makes sure she can hear him when he says, “You’re so wet, it’s only natural for it to slide right in.” He fills her in one thrust and it finally drags a long-held back groan from him. 

They can’t make more silly excuses when they’re both breathless as she bounces up and down on his cock at a steadily increasing pace. He holds her like he fears he’ll lose her and buries his face in her neck as if muffling any moans would take away any of the guilt. 

But he’s shameless when he asks if he can cum inside her, and she’s quick to say, ‘yes’. 

Though he’s as warm as ever, he shudders through his climax. After being pent-up for so long, he has a dizzyingly intense orgasm. What keeps him grounded is each squeeze of her walls around him and the sting of her nails digging into his skin as she cums at the same time he does. 

The guilt returns along with confusion when she stands back up to get dressed. He follows her lead, but once his shirt is halfway-buttoned, he freezes, looking over at her for some sort of explanation, some sort of direction. 

“What?” she asks, brushing off her skirt as she sits down at the bar. 

“Nothing. I just- I don’t think we should’ve done that.”

“Don’t feel guilty, James. You said you were looking for someone, and you found someone.”

“No, I meant I was looking for-”

“Love? Comfort? Absolution?” She laughs differently now. “You won’t get those here.”

“No, for my wife…”

“Mary?”

“Yeah, do you know her?”

“Not anymore.”

Like everything else, she is swallowed up by the fog. 

[fdeegbffi]

Sukuna x female reader.

Summary:

Sukuna was always a cold hearted king. However meeting you revealed his vulnerable side. He loves you, he really does, but he cannot let his people know he has a soft spot for a woman so he replaces you. Heartbroken you flee. What will he do next?

Inspiration from this girlie❤️:

Really loved this idea and I wanted to recreate it with a little twist.

The Cursed King’s Regret (Pt1)

I think

In a world steeped in darkness, Ryomen Sukuna ruled as an unforgiving king. His name alone was enough to send tremors through the hearts of even the bravest souls, and his power, feared and unchallenged, was the stuff of legend. But hidden away in the shadows of his imposing castle was a secret he kept from everyone—even from the woman who unknowingly held his heart.

You were that woman, a gentle presence in the cursed king's life. Sukuna had never intended to care for anyone, let alone fall in love. His life had always been one of darkness and control, his emotions buried deep hidden from the eyes of the living. But there was something about you that slipped past his defenses, capturing his attention and, eventually, his heart. He loved you with an intensity that scared him, a possessiveness that he couldn’t fully understand. Yet he never let you see how deeply his feelings ran. He wore his cruelty like a shield, hiding his vulnerability behind harsh words and a cold demeanor. Still, you could sense his vulnerability in his gaze and how you were treated slightly different from everybody else

As the months went by, you found yourself falling for Sukuna. You began to see the man behind the mask, and you hoped that one day, he would let down his guard and show his true feelings for you like you did to him. But then, something changed. Sukuna started visiting you less often. When he did, his gaze was distant, his mind elsewhere. Eventually, you discovered the reason why: he had taken in another woman. She looked so much like you that it was almost as if she were your twin. At first, you tried to brush it off, telling yourself you were imagining things, that you were being irrational. But as time passed, the truth became impossible to ignore. He WAS replacing you.

You felt your heart shatter, and the realization that you were just a stand-in for someone else made you sink in desperation. The depression settled in slowly, until the castle that had once felt like a strange kind of home became a prison. You couldn’t bear to stay in a place where you were no longer wanted, where your presence had become invisible.

So, one night, while Sukuna was away, you made your escape. You took nothing with you except some food and the memories that haunted you. Slipping through the castle’s shadows, you disappeared into the darkened forest beyond, determined to find a life far away from the man who had unknowingly broken your heart.

You wandered for days, finding temporary refuge in the solitude of the wilderness and the anonymity of small villages where no one knew your story. You tried to rebuild your life, but the ache of what you had lost stayed with you. It was a wound that refused to heal, a scar that remained tender to the touch.

Back at the castle, Sukuna returned to find your chambers empty. At first, he dismissed your absence, thinking you were simply avoiding him. But as the days passed without a word from you, a feeling of unease began to gnaw at him. It wasn’t long before he realized with a sinking dread that you were gone.

The woman who resembled you so closely brought him no comfort. In fact, her presence only served to remind him of what he had lost. Sukuna, the feared king who had never known fear himself, felt panic rising within him for the first time. He himself searched the castle, the grounds, and the surrounding lands, but there was no trace of you.

When his own efforts failed, he sent out troops to scour the kingdom, ordering them to find you and bring you back at any cost. Days turned into weeks, and still, there was no sign of you. The possibility that he had lost you forever began to weigh heavily on him.

He had been a fool, and now he knew it. His pride, his fear of showing vulnerability, had driven you away, and now the thought of you out there somewhere, heartbroken and alone, tormented him. Sukuna cursed himself for his arrogance, for his failure to show you what you truly meant to him. He would tear the world apart to find you, and when he did, he would do everything in his power to make things right—if you would let him. For the first time, he understood that all the power and fear in the world meant nothing if they couldn’t bring you back to his side.

In the quiet of your new life, you tried to move on, to forget the cursed king who had broken your heart. But deep down, a part of you still longed for him, still wondered if he had ever truly cared. As you lived day by day, unaware of the chaos your absence had unleashed, the world seemed to hold its breath, waiting for the moment when Sukuna would finally find you.

Because when he did, nothing would ever be the same.

[pushpressure]

Reorganizing the Konoha teams

I know this is an old discussion that doesn't matter anymore, but I got back into Naruto and watched a video rearranging the teams, and it was weirdly bias for Sasusaku and added team 3/team Guy which was weird. So I decided to try my hand at it for fun:

So here are our teams

Okay to start with, we have to acknowledge the purpose of why they're together.

Team 7 is together because they're meant to help Naruto become a better ninja. Kakashi was Minato's student so there's the whole vow of protecting your master's son thing going on. Sasuke is there because he was the second top student in the academy (Ino being the first) and Kakashi has the sharingan, and Sakura was placed there because of her intelligence and chakra control. On paper, the combination made sense, but when you look at their grades on cooperation...

Putting two of the least cooperative people together with Kakashi as a sensei in a 4 man team was not a great move. I'm guessing they were hoping that Sakura could pull the team together, but did not take into account of her crush on Sasuke which set this team up for failure. Also, Kakashi's teaching method to solely use real life missions and his tardiness was not effective. These kids needed a more hands-on strict approach. Team practices back-to-back as if they're trying for the Olympics.

Team 8 is together because they're meant to be the manhunt team. They all have abilities to track people and take them down. With a sensei who doesn't play favorites, they're very effective as a group and as individuals unlike team 7.

Team 10 are together because of the Ino-shika-cho tradition which are absolutely perfect balance for reconnaissance missions.

If we had to choose which team is the best between Team 8 and Team 10, it naturally has to go to Team 10.

With 15 generations of team work perfected with the help of the Sarutobi clan who carries the Will of Fire, they have every angle of their team work covered. Yes, Team 8, is an effective team, but their skills are too similar that they don't blend well together on the battlefield and work better as individuals.

So taking that into consideration, we're going to have to permanently split the ino-shika-cho trio.

Because in all honesty, you can take out Choji and replace him with anyone else except maybe Shino. I'm sorry! I know Choji is a good boy, but as unique as his attacks are, he's just the muscle. And in all honesty, Naruto being in Team 10 would've helped him a 100 times more than team 7 because Shikamaru is a genius and actually likes Naruto, so he can help Naruto utilize his shadow clones better, and Ino actually cares about cooperation and her abilities that leave her vulnerable will give Naruto a sense of responsibility.

But we want Team 10's skills to be shared with everyone, so they cannot be together. In order for that to make sense, I guess imagine that they have older siblings who is already upholding the tradition as the 16th generation.

Moving forward, naturally one student on each team cannot leave their appointed sensei because they're compatible:

Team 7: Sasuke has to remain with Kakashi because of the sharingan, the lightning jutsu and their similar personalities. Yes, Kurenai uses genjutsu, but it's not a genjutsu at Itachi's level, and can't provide much more than that on the matter of skills. She may be able to provide a more motherly support, but taking Sasuke's background into consideration, I think a male role model similar to Itachi is more effective.

Team 8: Hinata has to stay with Kurenai because I can't imagine the other two giving Hinata the much needed attention and confidence she needs, especially from one female to another.

Team 10: Shikamaru obviously needs to stay with Asuma because they have that special bond as if Asuma is a second father to him.

Now we move on to the student who actually needs this sensei to help enhance their skills:

Team 7: Kiba would do better under Kakashi because the man uses dogs who he personally raised as his main summoning animal. Kakashi could've had Pakkun or his other dogs help train Akamaru with Kiba as his partner.

Team 8: Sakura is supposed be talented with genjutsu so naturally she should've gone with Kurenai in the first place in order to tap into that talent. I also think Sakura would've also seen a role model in Kurenai as a kunoichi.

Team 10: Naruto naturally has to be teammates with Shikamaru, but also because Naruto has a natural affinity for wind chakra, Asuma would've been perfect in training Naruto to wield it just as Kakashi taught Sasuke to use light chakra. It also helps that Asuma is the son of the hokage, so he can help Naruto on that as well.

And so we move on to the last three students:

Who I honestly struggled to place since again, Choji is a close-combat person which the other teams already have covered. So I had to consider where he would be the most useful.

I wanted to make an all-girl group with a flower-theme going on:

Hinata being the Sunflower, Sakura the cherry blossom and Ino the florist and they have a teacher who uses floral genjutsu. It was perfect! But then I thought about how they would actually perform starting out, and while Hinata does know some taijutsu, she's not very proficient at it, and the girls can't really help her in that department early on in this teamwork.

So here we go:

Team 7: I placed Ino under Kakashi more for Kakashi's sake than Ino's because the man would be inspired to actually train them as a team in order to take Ino's skills into consideration. Ino is a Sasuke fangirl like Sakura, but Ino is the heiress of the Yamanaka clan so she has more important responsibilities, and has applied herself in the academy to become its top student and likes to take the lead. She won't let her feelings for Sasuke get in the way of making everyone work together.

Team 8: I placed Choji in this team to provide some muscle, and be the training partner she needs to put more oomf in her strikes.

Team 10: I placed Shino in this team in order to do Sasuke's job and that was to cover Naruto's weaknesses and act as the tactician to Shikamaru's strategies. The poor boy also needs the spotlight, and the gags would be funny.

With all these teams covered, how would they work:

Team 7 (The Cool Group): The show makes it seem like Kiba is a copy of Naruto, but honestly, he's a lot more chilled (granted he's not a hated orphaned boy with a demonic animal inside), so with Sasuke, I can only see them having a friendly rivalry if not at all. If anything, even on different teams, Naruto would still declare himself as Sasuke's rival, and the chunin exams would alight that intensity. But even before that, it's not like they won't see each other and fight on sight so the bond is still there. Other than that, Kakashi would train them each separately (not just Sasuke) and together to help Ino use her jutsu which will instill that necessary teamwork. And with Ino's assertive attitude and Akamaru being everyone's support animal, they would have them eat meals together, and won't let Sasuke or Kakashi get out of it if they didn't have something urgent going on. Is it wrong to say this is the more functional version of team 7? Of course, shit hits the fan when Orochimaru attacks, and I'll leave how that turns out for others to imagine. Comment cuz that'd be interesting.

Team 8 (The Gentle Group): I believe Kurenai would've trained Sakura in not only genjutsu but on how to be the team leader in order to fully use her intelligence. She would have Sakura on mock survival trainings in the forest in order to not crumble under pressure, and use her team effectively. Kurenai would have Choji and Hinata train together to strengthen their taijutsu and their confidence.

Team 10 (The Weirdo Group): I believe Asuma, Shikamaru and Shino would collab together to help Naruto become a respectable ninja. Asuma would help Naruto learn taijutsu before introducing him to wind chakra. Shino would help teach Naruto what should've been drilled into him in the academy and under Asuma's observation, help Naruto on his tactics which Naruto is pretty good at since he's a clever prankster, but Shino helps him refine it. Naruto respects Shino for that, but is incredibly weirded out by his attempts to become friends and doesn't know how to break Asuma to do as he wants since the sexy jutsu doesn't work on a womanizer like him. As for Shikamaru, he's more involved in Naruto's training when actual missions are involved since he actually has to use his brain for them.

I could say more, but that's all I should say.

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

I so often think about what the tone of scene with the backless book would have looked like in the Six of Crows spin off.

In Six of Crows, when the crew arrive in Djerholm they go to an Inn and sit on the terrace to give them a clear, if distant, view of the road that leads to the Ice Court, and Kaz uses a device he calls a 'backless book' to see the prison wagon on the road with perfect clarity - it looks like a perfeclty normal book until you hold it open on a specific page at a specific angle. He passes the book around without telling anyone that it is actually a mirrored lens so that no-one else on the terrace will know what they're talking about, and when Wylan is offered the book by Jesper he initially refuses to take it. He asks 'What does it say?' and Jesper replies 'Just look'. In this scene everyone, including the reader, is yet to learn that Wylan cannot read and therefore this line doesn't have any particular impact on us in the moment, except as a continuation of the idea that Wylan feels uncomfortable and that the others tend to be impatient with him for the way he doesn't fit into their world. But imagine what this scene would look like with the added subtext that Jesper already knows he can't read but the others don't! AND the added subtext they already have an established relationship!!

Imagine the panic in Wylan's eyes slowly growing as the book moves round the group, imagine the hesitation in his voice as he asks Jesper what it says, imagine Jesper softening his voice to reassure him as he gently tells him that he just has to look.

And on this same vein, imagine Jesper beginning to piece together why Wylan 'left' his father's house early on. Imagine Jesper standing on the deck of the Ferolind with Inej as she quietly tells him that Van Eck writes to Wylan every week and Wylan doesn't even open the letters, the way she'd study him as she noticed that he knew something more than her but would never pry. Imagine the way the tone would change for when Wylan is drawing the maps of the Ice Court and says he hasn’t labelled anything because he doesn’t know Fjerdan, despite the fact that he’s already revealed he speaks Fjerdan - in the book no-one questions it and I think that’s partly due to Jesper mocking him and saying that he probably doesn’t speak it well (it’s confirmed later that he does) and partly due to the way he doesn’t fit in and the others aren’t really paying him much attention; it’s a brief moment the reader doesn’t put much stock into until they find out that Wylan can’t read at the end of the book. The added dimension of us already having that subtext would have been absolutely fascinating and I am so so upset we don’t get to see it play out, especially since we would probably have a lot of Wesper angst going on as well - I’m imaging the way Wylan would fear Jesper ratting him out or turning on him because he lied to him and being so shocked that he doesn’t and just not understanding the way he still cares about him or that he would still protect him because he doesn’t know what it feels like to be loved I’m gonna cry

[suzukiblu]

Ko-fi thank-you sentences for Plot Bunny; den mom Black Zero.

“You’re Kon-El’s age?” Wonder Woman says, looking thoughtful. 

“I said that, yes,” Black Zero replies in annoyance. He usually has a higher estimation of Wonder Woman’s intelligence than to need the obvious restated, but it could be worse; could be Superman talking again. 

“Are you intending to repeat your crimes in this reality?” Wonder Woman says. 

“You cannot possibly be stupid enough to think I’d answer that truthfully either way,” Black Zero says, eyeing her dubiously. The corner of her mouth quirks up, just a little. 

“Perhaps,” she says. “But I imagine you’re aware that I do have a method to assure that you would.” 

Black Zero rolls his eyes, then holds out his arm in further annoyance. It’s not as if he needs to lie, much less cares enough to. If he wanted to kill them, he’d be killing them. 

“Thank you,” Wonder Woman says, because of course she’d waste time on that, and then loops her lasso around his wrist. “Your name, please?” 

“Black Zero,” Black Zero says. Wonder Woman hums consideringly. 

“What are your intentions towards this reality, Black Zero?” she says. 

“To explain to your Superboy why he’s an idiot and murder anyone between him and his brother,” Black Zero replies dryly. “Also, I might punch your Superman. He’s pissing me off and I’ve never actually gotten the chance to.” 

“Technically not true,” Superboy says. “One of the Superboys we met was actually a younger alternate of Superman, and you definitely punched him. Like, really hard. And his dog.” 

“Did I?” Black Zero feels pleased. “Good.” 

“You’re such a prick, man,” Superboy says, scowling at him. “The dog!” 

“I hate dogs,” Black Zero replies with a dismissive shrug. 

“So do I, but that is not the point!” Superboy says in exasperation, throwing his hands up. “And we’re not murdering anybody! No murder!” 

“You’re not, maybe,” Black Zero snorts. Wonder Woman watches his face, her own expression still thoughtful. 

“You want to abduct Match from the Agenda,” she says, which is again something he feels he’s made very obvious, but whatever. 

“It’s adorable that you’d describe freeing a legally-enslaved teenager as ‘abduction’,” he says. 

“Arguably, I couldn’t even describe him as a teenager, given he’s . . . how much younger than you, Kon-El?” Wonder Woman asks, glancing towards Superboy.

“Oh, uh–like a year, about?” he says. “I think about a year, anyway, I’m a little fuzzy on some of the dates, after the Wild Lands and–I think about a year, yeah.” 

“So you people left a newborn clone with an organization run by slavers,” Black Zero says. “For a year. That’s about as impressive as I’d expect from a Justice League, yes.” 

“Match has made his feelings on remaining with the Agenda clear more than once,” Superman says, narrowing his eyes at him. Black Zero gives him a dubious look. “We tried to help him. He’s made his choice."

“Yes, physiological teenagers with five minutes’ worth of life experience are notoriously adept at making informed choices with long-term consequences that involve them rejecting everything about and everyone in the only life they’ve ever known,” Black Zero drawls, rolling his eyes. “Silly me. How could I forget.” 

“Your priorities are . . . interesting,” Wonder Woman muses, still watching him thoughtfully. He doesn’t know what she thinks she’s looking for. 

“They're correct, is what they are,” he says. “No one else gives a fuck about our kind.” 

“Clones, you mean?” Wonder Woman says. 

“You keep asking me incredibly obvious questions,” Black Zero says. Who else would he mean? 

It's been made very clear to him that no one else is going to look out for any of them except each other.

[wriothesleybear]

AhH thank you so much for gifting us wriothesley content🐺🐺!!!! I really wish to see his drip marketing soon 😭🙏I cannot forget your idea of him being the big bad wolf with the little red Riding Hood fem reader ever since I saw u mention it--- it is it possible if you give us some more details on the idea? Did he want to eat her at first? Does he want to start a pack w her?? I have so many questionss

it makes me happy to know you like my headcanons🥹 same about the drip marketing. hoyoverse please give us something ! any crumbs will do😫 oh gosh i havent thought that much about the wriothesley x red riding hood! reader yet hmm but if i had to give some ideas:

headcanons below ~warning: a bit suggestive~

Pre-relationship headcanons:

the reader is this innocent little thing who is so sweet, kind, is good with animals and kids, and runs a bakery/cafe which is what caught Wriothesley's eye in the first place.

he had been at your shop before for some tea and knew you were the owner and you've seen him a few times in your shop, but you two had never really spoken.

in my headcanons, i see him as a gentleman so he's usually polite to anyone unless he knows you're a bad person/criminal

one day, he saved you from a couple of criminals who were bothering you. thats when you two finally spoke to one another. you were thanking him profusely for saving you. it would probably be too cute to him so he blushes a bit from how cute you are and gives you a slight smile saying its no big deal.

a few days pass and you find out where he works so you visit him to give him some homemade muffins as a thank you. this would cause the man to become more smitten with you.

even though I see him as not really being a sweets person, he'll eat your treats since you're the one who gave it to him. i mean, what kind of gentleman would he be if he let your treats go to waste.

after this, he would visit your shop more often just to see you and of course have some tea.

you guys would enjoy having conversations with one another and this would become a daily thing.

You would learn his order by heart, already having it ready when you knew he would show up soon. he would notice this and it would cause him to fall harder for you.

You guys would start off as friends of course but it would develop into something more as you got to know more about one another and spend more time together.

He would be the one to ask you out first and you say yes ofc. (he thought you looked so cute when you said yes and it made him happy !)

ofc it was an amazing first date ! he'd go a little bit all out. its your first date after all and its for you so he has to make a good impression ;)

Some relationship headcanons:

once this man falls for you, he falls hard (wolves mate for life)

always kisses your hand !!! he doesnt do that much pda except for that, a hand around your waist, a kiss on your head. he prefers more behind closed doors *wink wink*

When people see him showing affection towards you tho, they get shocked cuz those who don't know him think he's a bit of a scary dude based on his appearance and seeing him with an adorable, innocent s/o is surprising to them.

tea dates ofc

he's playful so playful bites/licks occur often and teases you

he loves hearing you laugh and smile. makes his heart race !

SOOO PROTECTIVE!

he has to protect his cute little innocent, kind darling, can you blame him🥺

he'd be like low-key possessive.

what i mean by that is by marking you. ofc with bite marks during your love making sessions but i could also see him gifting you a necklace with a crescent or symbol that symbolizes him.

it shows others that you're his and hands off!

or imagine its a little red hood that has his symbol on it and matches his cape ahhhh! that'd be so cute!

adding on to that, he's not really the jealous type because he knows you're his but when he sees you giving someone else more attention than him, he might get a little needy.

he just wants his little red riding hood to give him all of their attention and love

please play with his hair and give him scratchies

wouldn't be overly clingy but will hang around you a lot when he can like. like he has to be touching you in a way aka hugging you, you sitting on his lap, etc. or just having you near him while he works is enough

he's gotta make sure you are reminded daily that he loves you

he would be a little bit of a worry wart when he's not with you, always wondering if you were okay

HE IS DEVOTED TO YOU! he would do anything for you maybe even break the law for you👀 he is whipped

a family man

he would for sure want to have a family with you !

would probably want a big one (going off on the fact that wolf packs are usually around 6-10 members from what i read)

Sigewinne is already your guys' child. Its important for you two to get along and you do.

When he sees you two getting along, it makes him so happy !

his thoughts often lead to thinking about you two having a family of your own one day (sorta makes him feral🫣)

he would be the one to bring up the topic when the time is right.

if you said yes, he'd be happy and probably take you right there omg🤭

if you're not ready, he would be understanding, but if you're willing, you could always 'practice' until the time comes ;)

overall, 10/10 boyfriend

i hope i didn't ramble too much. maybe i'll make a series out of this. i hope this answers your questions anon. have a wonderful day!🥰❤️

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

Noticed something about zutarians: for people who claim to be "THE femist ship" they spend too much time praising Zuko for doing chores, being empathetic, supporting women and other stuff he didn't really do in canon all that much.

Like, feminists would consider these a basic level that any normal person, man or woman, should do for their own's sake without any praise. Oohing and aahing "look, he spends time with his own child!", "oh, you washed the dishes, my hero!", "where would I have been if you didn't do the laundry, my knight in shining armor, you really are a savior!" is... very sexist, actually! And zutarians do just that. It’s not enough for them to write him doing chores, they have to emphasize this, compare him to Aang/Sokka/anyone else who of course doesn’t do chores (because no one except Katara and Zuko ever does anything chorelike in these fics it seems), or just outright praise him for that.

Of course, zutara never was a feminist ship, so my observation doesn't add anything new. I understand that zutara kinda fits "female gaze" or whatever, though, it's a women's dream about a perfect partner, which is totally fine by itself – it just has nothing to do with Zuko (and, dare I say, Katara – I doubt she would be so ecstatic about a guy doing "women's chores", she is used to dividing the work around camp and takes it for granted). And that's why I cannot read even relatively harmless zutara fluff – it very often is very focused on this exact subject. I like Zuko for who he is and the truth is 1) he's flawed even after his redemption and 2) a huge part of how he sees himself is his prince title. Nothing of it matches zutara fantasy of a male housewife, so they have a whole other character named Zuko to fit into their imagination land, and I just have no interest in that.

I'm still impressed by that one fic (not in English) where Fantara was 100% sure that Fanfic-Firelord-Zuko will never ever "force any hapless woman" to take care of his newborn daughter (as opposed to her awful, awful husband, Fanfic-Aang who can't even feed his son, who's still eating only breast milk, for several days while Fantara decided to be away). Sure, girl, he's a fucking ruler, he has a whole country to think about, tons of very important shit to do every single day, a full palace of servants, of course he will always personally change diapers, no doubt. I bet he'll even do all the breastfeeding by himself, since his wife died at childbirth and forcing other women is out of the question.

I'm bitter now, and maybe taking it too far but what if – just "what if" – there are very few people who actually ship Katara and Zuko? Because it seems that most content creators in zutara fandom actually ship their two OCs who are very loosely based on these two characters (but don't I dare tell it to their faces, haha, they are under impression that their image of Zuko and Katara is somehow the only correct one).

Just one little disagreement: Zutara doesn't fit the Female Gaze because there's no such thing in the first place. There's not a single trope, way to direct a scene, or romance formula that universally appeals to women, and the same thing can appeal to different women for radically different reasons.

"Male Gaze" and "Female Gaze" were supposed to be a way to point out sexism (and sometimes straight up abuse) in film-making, but it honest God became some bullshit gender-essentialism nonsense REALLY fast. We gotta let that "That is for boys, this is for girls" mentality die.

Aang does chores with Katara. That is completely irrelevant to me shipping Kataang. Aang is not sexist. That doesn't even reach my top 50 reasons to love him as a character. Aang does a lot of things that don't match the idea I was raised to have of a "manly man" and I could not give less of fuck about it. It doesn't bother me, but doesn't particularly appeal to me either.

But for lots of people that is HUGE and some of the main reasons why they love his character and his romance with Katara. And notice I said people, not women.

I like plenty of enemies-to-lovers ships - I don't relate to a single meta/analysis I've ever seen of "Why women like bad boys/enemies to lovers/redeemed villains so much." It all rang hollow to me. But to plenty of women it hits the nail right on the head.

Hell, 50 Shades of Grey is a "romance/erotica" full of accidental misogyny, abuse-apologism, and slut-shaming yet the fanbase is 90% women from all kinds of demographics, and the main thing they praise about these goddamn books/movies is that it did NOT make them feel like they should be ashamed of wanting to have kinky sex with a hot guy.

The Female Gaze isn't real.

[notaspectator]

idea: Omen copies people and tries to imitate people he likes. at first, it'd be hard to tell. but he's picked up on Viper's speech, and from time to time (...as funny as all the other agents find it) he'll repeat what brimstone has said to him. little speech things. but it becomes more obvious when it comes to behaviors. like, how if someone talks to him but does the "talking with hands" thing, he'll try to copy it. except he doesn't speak, because he doesn't understand the two things are connected. it becomes an uncanny imitation that reminds everyone else that Omen is not like them, and Omen cant understand what he's doing wrong. He's doing what he's seen others do, so why do they find it so strange when he does it? When people breath in a certain, noticable way, Omen pretends he's breathing the same way. It takes time for anyone to notice, but Omen does copy it and never understands why it unnerves the others. and say, when they're on a multiple day mission, he'll copy how people prepare to sleep. because he doesn't understand, and he just wants to pretend that he is like them, even if it means laying there for hours in silence because everyone sleeps, except for him, so that must mean that sleeping is a trait of living things. now, this also comes around a LOT with specific agents. like cypher. since Cypher y'know has a mask with eyes that pretend to blink, i like to imagine he also is very expressive with his body language to make up for the fact he has a mask. and Omen would copy the way Cypher likes to tilt his head, or the eccentric way Cypher waves his hands about. Cypher finds it interesting, and would often subtly do unique things such as a certain gesture or a walking to a certain pattern just so that he could see Omen imitate it later, either with him or elsewhere. The only time these little imitations seem *real* and *lifelike* is when Omen isn't trying to do them. Like how Omen will often imitate breathing just on his own, or the way he likes to keep a hand on the wall as he walks by because it is grounding and he likes to know where he is relative to the walls around him, or how he leans toward things he finds interesting so that he can focus better and hear them clearer. Omen doesn't realize that he is trying to put together a collage of everyone's unique traits in a desperate bid to make himself seem human- he doesn't realize that the little things HE does are what make him seem alive. that those little things are proof that he is not just going through the motions and making a fake personality from bits and pieces of everyone else, because he has his own thoughts, opinions, and little quirks that no one else shares. Omen really hasn't existed very long, has he? and yet, he's already killed countless people. from copies of friends, to copies of himself. how could that not fuck somebody up? he went through unimaginable pain, and cannot even hold himself together on a bad day (quite literally), and has looked himself dead in the eye and shot a replica of himself dead. When he has only known the VALORANT protocol- has only known Viper, who isn't known for her empathy- how could he have ever figured out what makes people human? where would he have managed to come up with the idea that his emotions are his own? where does that leave time to realize that he does not have to desperately copy people so that he can be SOMEONE? or really, so he can pretend that he is alive, in some compacity? and I love the idea that Cypher, who struggled with the same problems, sees Omen struggling and he helps him. Cypher is all too familiar with thinking he is not like the others, and has already grappled with the idea that something about him is wrong. and maybe he isn't quite over that idea, yet. maybe he's just pretending he is, but he'll TRY so that he can help Omen, because he just cant let Omen struggle with those thoughts alone. and Omen realizes, that even if he might not be human nor technically alive, that it is okay because Cypher loves him either way, and thats enough for Omen to want to keep going.

[cosmerelists]

Would Cosmere Characters Drive the Speed Limit?

You know, if cars and speed limits existed for them. (Potentially necessary context: I am a USAmerican)

For a different but hilarious take on Stormlight Characters driving, please check out this @saffronique post, which I spent forever looking for because I vaguely remembered someone else doing a driving post and wanted to make sure I hadn't copied them! Anyway it's funny; go read it: https://www.tumblr.com/saffronique/719947907049127936/was-just-struck-by-the-overwhelming-urge-to-rate?source=share

But now for a much more limited question: just, do they go the speed limit?

1. Nale: Yes but also no

As Mr. Beholden-to-All-Laws-of-the-Realm, Nale would of course drive exactly the speed limit! Except that he would also go immediately to the local jurisdiction, get deputized or whatever, and then obtain permission to speed all the time so as to Apprehend Criminals. So he'd actually be almost exclusively speeding but, like, legally.

2. Vivenna: Only at first

Vivenna does drive the speed limit when she first gets her license, because she wants to Follow the Law and be a Good Example for Siri. But, like, everyone is always so mad, and eventually she starts going just like 5 miles over the speed limit, which isn't even breaking the law, really. It's going with traffic! And then maybe 10 miles over, just occasionally 15 but only on a highway when it's safe! 

3. Siri: No

Like, going a bit faster is not a big deal, especially if all the other cars are doing the same thing. It's actually safer to go with the flow of traffic! 

4. Elend: Depends on who's in the car

Elend drives moderately above the speed limit like most people except if his dad is in the car and then he drives under the speed limit just to piss him off.

5. Vin: No

Vroom, vroom to be honest. Vin doesn't do things slow.

6. Dalinar: Yes

As a young man, Dalinar's speed demon ways led to the deaths of many people. So now he does drive the speed limit and insists that his sons do as well, whether they're in company cars or not.

7. Kelsier: No

Kelsier? Follow a law? I don't think so. He taught Vin to drive, you know.

8. Adolin: Not anymore

When his dad was really into Car Laws, Adolin did drive the speed limit per his dad's instructions. But he's since loosened up a bit. He figures he needs to find his own way to drive!

9. Shallan: No

Shallan drives the speed she needs to drive. Veil definitely drives the fastest, and Radiant is most likely to follow the speed limit. But on average...not so much.

10. Navani: No

Adolin can still remember being in the car with his aunt for the first time and being SHOCKED that she speeds. (In my head this is related to Adolin being shocked when he sees Navani wearing a glove rather than a full sleeve. This may not make sense to anyone else but it feels right to me).

11. Moash: No

Moash always wants to get to his destination as fast as possible. Also I just can't imagine him trying to follow the speed limit. 

12. Wax: Depends on the geographic location

Wax drives the speed limit in the Roughs but not in Polite Society (except in dense urban areas where he wishes to avoid, like, killing children).

13. Wayne: Does not have his driver's license

I feel this in my soul. 

14. Lirin: Yes

I think Lirin would argue that "getting to your destination thirty seconds faster is no reason to speed and put everyone else on the road in danger! Drive safe - arrive safe! That's what matters!" And then he would go exactly one mile under the speed limit at all times while everyone behind him honks. 

15. Kaladin: No

Kaladin spends three months driving very slowly after his dad shows him videos of horrific car crashes but eventually he just can't do it. He NEEDS to get there faster! People are DEPENDING on him! And he likes to feel the WIND in his HAIR as he cruises down the open highway! 

(Kaladin and his dad cannot drive together.)

[moonspirit]

Cadet!Aruani having a little dance on top of the walls at night, just being silly little lovers in a world of utter misery.

Ohhhhhh anon, this is so cute T____T!!!!

I really like the idea of the walls at night being their little meeting place. After all, they're wide enough for a small corner to be invisible to anyone looking. There's a patch of ground where the two like to sit, sometimes lay, sometimes with a bite to eat or sometimes with nothing at all except for the eagerness to linger in the warmth of the other.

Armin... he looks forward to these nights. There's something about being next to Annie and noticing all the tender pockets she holds. After a grueling day of combat training, his hands are calloused and beaten, but hers are still soft. He wonders how that is, how she can turn people inside out on the fields and yet fill him with awe at how the torchlights illuminate the angles of her face so gently.

He's never told her, but he thinks she touches him like someone does a feather falling through the sky.

And it's fall. There's a harvest festival here in Trost and all the streets have been filled with the sound of music and laughter for days now. Dusk is the time the people put on their best clothes and dancing shoes and turn to a tune in the town square. He hasn't been. Eren was moody and Mikasa lonely and he had to help with the amends.

Now he steals a glance at Annie sitting close by, her cool blue eyes so dark under the moonless night, and wonders if she likes to dance.

"Um," He begins softly, tentatively. "I was wondering if--if you'd like to--"

"Dance?" She finishes, catching him off-guard. Her face turns wry upon seeing the surprise on his face. "You've been tapping your fingers and toes for the past one hour. I noticed."

Armin laughs, half embarrassed, a blush heating up his cheeks. "Oh--is that so, I uh--I didn't think--"

"It wasn't exactly subtle," Annie says, leaning back on her palms to study him. It's what she does, he's used to it now. Anyone else would call it the look of a dangerous, soulless creature but he can't quite think of it like that anymore. The fear he felt before he knew her name and the sound of her voice is long gone - now he has only shivers.

The good kind.

"What?" He chuckles shyly, leaning back to mirror her. "Do I have something on my face?"

She doesn't say anything at first, only stares. Quietly, gently, carefully. Like she's looking at stained glass or something delicate, and unfortunately that's what he is - delicate.

But when her eyes are on him this way, he doesn't hate it.

What does she see? He wonders. Because she's silhouetted against the light, wisps of her hair going against the light breeze, and all he can think of is how she's so... otherworldly. Like she comes from somewhere beyond his reach and somewhere beyond his dreams, a place he cannot... hope to touch or see.

She's beautiful in this firelight.

Does she... see the same in me?

She gets up rather abruptly then and he blinks in surprise. "So," Annie holds out a hand. "We should dance."

Armin squawks. Oh he's good at asking questions but not at following through in action. Shit. He should've known better than to poke at something that required physical skill; something she had in abundance and he had none of.

"Oh, it was--just a question--I uh--I'm not any good at it, I don't think--" He splutters, suddenly wishing he was anywhere else so he wouldn't be making an inevitable fool of himself.

Annie shrugs, taking his hand and hauling him up to his feet. "I can't imagine it's that different from fighting," With another shrug, she adds, "A lot of footwork."

He doesn't protest as much as he should, knowing he's going to disappoint her. Standing before her now, he sees the top of her head, the colour of silver grass, and becomes acutely aware of the fact that he's grown taller... a bit.

O-Oh.

So now if he were to kiss her again--if she'd let him--then he'd have to... or-or she'd have to-

"You look like you're about to have a stroke," Annie points out dryly and he snaps out of his daze. Right. Kiss later, now he has to make sure he doesn't trip and kill them both in a 60 metre fall.

"S-sorry," He mumbles, blushing. "Uh--shall I... uh- my hand around your...your waist--that is..."

Perhaps he's mistaken though. Annie's cool facade rarely ever disappeared but sometimes, just sometimes, like now on the wall under such dark, silent nights, she'd bite her lip and blush.

He thinks he's very lucky to see it, when it happens.

Just like right now. Her cheeks are pink and she won't look him much in the eye.

"Annie?" He whispers.

She just nods.

He's touched her before, but not like this. At most her cheek or her neck or her wrist. Her waist is an expanse more intimate and more sensitive, if the sigh escaping her lips is anything to go by, but Armin finds he'd rather touch her here from now on. She's so stiff and slight in his hold that even when his fingers press between the spaces of hers, she's still not looking up.

"Ann-"

Then she touches him. Just a hand on his shoulder, but it sends sparks firing beneath his skin. She's touched him before, exactly like this, but maybe it's the view of her crown, maybe it's the space of only a few breaths between their heads, for some reason or all of them, his heart speeds up until he thinks he might just combust.

"Let's start." She says.

They dance. It's not like any of the dances in the town square, this is clumsy and graceful and shy and soft. Annie dances and Armin follows, a little this way and a little that way. They can hardly hear any music so high up, but he's got a tune stuck in his ear and hums.

He trips plenty but she holds him firm. It's a dangerous place for a dance, one wrong move and their gear wouldn't be enough. He feels sorry every time her grip tightens but there's no anger in her eyes. Only a determined set of her brows to keep him safe.

"Armin, I swear to god-"

"Sorry, sorry!"

At some point he goes out of tune and then she laughs; Annie laughs. He teases her then and she gets progressively annoyed until she steps on him quite hard and he surrenders.

There is a thought in his head when she looks into his eyes, easy and relaxed, the hint of a smile playing on her lips as they turn slowly.

It's not a thought he has often.

It's usually the opposite.

But with Annie...

Someday, he thinks, looking at her, I hope you'll catch me if I fall.

[notroosterbradshaw]

Miss You Most... at Christmas Time [one shot]

about: Rooster never thought he’d have it all; and as his deployments extend, he feels it all slipping through his fingers. TBE/TRE universe.

word count: 6.3k

part of: The Boyfriend Experience universe

warnings: nsfw 18+, language, angst, smut, fluff.

masterlist.

Rooster watched you nod slowly, your stare blank as he told you it would be another fortnight before he was home. His deployment had been extended yet again.

“It’s already been four months,” you replied unevenly, unable to see any reason in his words. “You were supposed to be home a month ago. You’re going to miss Christmas,” the accusations in your voice light, but threatening to bubble over as you blinked back tears.

He knew. Dear God he knew. 

“You know how it goes, sweet girl…” he said quietly, patiently although he felt everything except it.

Yeah, you knew how it was too.

“Is she sleeping?” he asked softly as you nodded.

“Yeah.”

“I only have a few minutes; can I see her?” he begged quietly.

“Of course,” you crawled out of bed and tiptoed to the crib a few feet away.

“I hate that I’ve missed all of this…” he said miserably as you carefully put the phone over your two-month-old daughter’s crib. “I just can’t wait to meet her.”

“I know,” you said quietly, not wanting to wake her, your tenderly sleeping babe. You gently brushed a tuft of hair from her forehead. “She can’t wait to meet her Daddy either.”

He sighed. “Fuck. I gotta go. Can you please give me two more weeks, Momma?” he begged as you looked back at him and could see the tears in his eyes, threatening to spill. Because if this was hard for you, it was a fuckload worse for him. “Please?” his voice watery.

You brought the camera back to your face and nodded simply. He could see the sadness etched all over it and it only made him feel worse. “We’ll be waiting.”

He gave you a soft smile. “I love y-,” the screen went blank before you could answer and if the timing was crueller, grizzling snapped you back to reality like clockwork for baby Bradshaw’s 2am feed. 

You picked the little one before she got too unruly and kissed her soft cheek. If there was ever a more perfect face, you realised moving to the rocker at the window and taking a seat, cradling her protectively. You carefully adjusted yourself and she latched, feeding, while you cried to yourself.

“Maybe I’m just not cut out for this anymore…” you sighed as you sat on a blanket in the yard with Natasha a week or so later, the afternoon sun setting and tummy time for the little one with Natasha was happily joining her. “But every time I think I’m ready to leave, I cannot imagine being with anyone else but Bradley, you know?”

Natasha gave a gentle smile from where she lay, your little one staring up at her with her big eyes. “You guys are far too solid for that. I don’t know a man that is in love more than Rooster is with you. And I don’t know a woman who is stronger than you to put up with it.”

“I don’t tolerate it by choice. We agreed he would retire last year after we got married and along came another promotion and he’s just been so absorbed with it all.”

She nodded, knowingly. “It’s all he knows. It’s all we all know, you included.”

“Well, it’s gotta be time for him to learn this little one, right?”

“I agree with you,” she said. “Trust me, he knows. And he will make it up to you. Both of you.”

“When are you leaving?”

“Dawn,” she confirmed. “Are you sure you’ll be okay another few days?”

“Yeah,” you brushed the notion away confidently. “Can’t believe you’re both missing her first Christmas though,” you sighed. “Won’t be the same without you.”

“Yeah, that sucks but I’ll call to see this little angel,” Natasha agreed, kissing her finger and gently pressing it to your little one’s forehead then moved to stand. “I have to go because being around her is making me think I could have one and it’s really not in my short-term plans,” she laughed.

“I’ve recently found out that it’s actually not just a short-term thing,” you joked as she grinned widely.

“Can’t just put it back where you found it, huh?”

“Apparently not,” you laughed and hugged each other. “Thank you for coming to see us.”

“Of course,” Natasha replied. “It’s only a few more days,” she reminded you.

“Yeah, and it’s action-packed. Oscar’s kindergarten nativity play tonight,” you bent down and picked up your little miss. “Wrap some presents, keep Mama sleep-deprived for when Daddy is home, so we will both be exhausted. My God, I feel so old.”

“Well, you look gorgeous, and coffee will keep you going for another little while. I better go, few more errands to go. If you need anything, please call your sister or hell, Jake is in town if you’re really desperate, even for the company, okay.”

“You want me to call Hangman?” you asked her incredulously.

“Yeah, I take it back,” she snorted, bopping her goddaughter’s little nose and began to leave. “Merry Christmas!” 

“Merry Christmas... be safe,” you called after her, waving the little’s miss’ hand. “Bye, Aunty Natasha.”

She gave a big smile, disappearing down the side of the house and out of your gaze. And it was just you two again. You sat on the picnic blanket and rolled to your back, your little girl snuggling into your chest.

“Are you excited to meet Dada?” you asked. “He’s so excited to meet you. I probably won’t get a look in, there’s a new lady in Bradley Bradshaw’s life,” you giggled softly. “You can go to sleep,” you stroked her soft hair and sighed. “Then we will try and keep ourselves busy until Dada gets home.”

Dropping his bag at the door, Rooster called out for you. Your car was in the drive, but the house was eerily quiet. Maybe you’d taken baby girl for a stroll? Were you napping? Not quite the homecoming he wanted, but he was home early, and he wanted to surprise you.

He smiled fondly at the tree in the living room that you’d trimmed with the utmost care, the gentle white lights fading in and out against the golden glare of the afternoon sun flooding in.

He continued through the house, his boots echoing against the hardwood as he entered the kitchen. Nothing happening in there either. He sighed, going to the fridge and eager to taste anything aside from carrier food on his tongue. Beer. Sweet release, he grinned, opening it and tossing the cap on the benchtop, his eyes catching movement in the backyard with you basking in the golden afternoon sun with his baby girl in your strong arms, tracing her skin.

His wife and his daughter.

It was the most beautiful sight he’d seen.

His breath caught as he put the bottle down and stoically made his way to the backdoor, your back to him as he called your name. “Sweet girl, love…”

You froze. You were either finally going crazy, or your husband had wrangled an early return and didn’t tell you… so you’d have to kill him because you knew the house resembled a war zone. Turning slowly, you were on your feet before you could answer him and, in his arms, even quicker. “Oh, my God, Bradley,” you said, the tears that had been spilling constantly since he left drenching into his uniform.

“Oh, baby,” he lifted your chin and gazed into your eyes, thumbing away your tears. “I’m home, sweetheart,” he kissed you deeply. Not hungry, not as desperate as you felt, but forcing the kiss he missed giving you every day since he departed. “I missed you so much,” he said, but you knew he was distracted by the bundle in your arms.

“Want to say hi, Dada?” you asked gently as you heard him give a shaky breath. Maybe you weren’t the only one crying. He nodded.

“Very much,” he replied as he readied his arms for you to guide his infant daughter into them. “Oh, my God. She is the littlest thing. Oh, Momma, she is a rare beauty,” he looked at you and grinned. “I think I’ve fallen in love again.”

You laughed quietly, your hand rubbing an encouraging circle on his lower back and snuggling into his strong bicep. “We did pretty well, if I say so myself,” you had to laugh. “But she’s all you.”

“You think?” he inspected his daughter’s delicate features and she looked at him, a tired yawn escaping her little mouth and Rooster’s breath hitched, enamoured with her little beeps and chirps. She wriggled and writhed, and Rooster looked at you, panicked.

“Can’t get out of this one,” you told him with a giggle. “She’s your problem now, Bradshaw.”

“She’s so beautiful.”

You hummed, a little more in love with Rooster as he gazed at your girl. He was just enamoured. “Shit. I’m gonna have to buy a shotgun,” he realised as you shook your head. “You’re sure we don’t need a gun?”

“Never been more certain of anything in my life.”

“Okay,” he adjusted his posture, and she found his index finger and latched to it in her strong baby grip. “Do you think she knows who I am?”

“She probably knows your smell,” you shrugged, not adding that you’d left one of his t-shirts in her crib so she knew exactly what his scent was. “But she knows you,” of this you were certain. You were surprised as he reached down and kissed you, tenderly.

“I love you. I am so in love,” he said. “Can we just stay out here? Just the three of us?” he asked quietly. 

“Of course,” you led him back to the picnic blanket and you lay back down on your back, your boobs starting to get uncomfortable, and you cursed quietly.

“You okay?” he took a seat, crossing his long legs and staring intently at the most perfect face he’d ever seen. His heart raced, but this he couldn’t regulate. He had loved his daughter from the moment you told him you were pregnant, but he’d be lying to say there wasn’t a disconnect with her born while he was serving. 

This was a feeling he’d never felt before and he’d never felt so protective of anything in his life.

You used your palms to help lift the ache in your breasts. “Sore boobs. I either have to pump or feed her soon. That’s my life now. I’m a milkmaid.”

He laughed quietly. “Are you in pain?” his gaze dropped to your chest, although he noticed the new swell the second he saw you. He licked his lips and distracted himself. It was not the time.

“Not unmanageable,” you told him. “Do I look different?”

“Yes,” he smiled sweetly. “You are a little curvier, but in all the right places. Fuckin’ delicious, actually.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re lucky you’ve got that face and body, Bradley.”

He giggled softly. “What do you want me to say? Yes, your body has changed. It kept our baby safe for nine months. I’ve always been obsessed with your body, trust me when I say, I am always gonna be turned on by you and cannot wait to explore.”

You held back a smile. “Knock it off,” you warned, body warm under his gaze. You reached for his hand, and he kissed it, both his girls now in his hold. “Do you have any time off?”

He nodded with a small smile. “I put leave in. Until New Year.”

“Oh, my goodness. That will be the longest we’ve spent without work distracting us since our honeymoon,” you said surprised.

He raised an eyebrow. “You got plans for me, love?”

“Oh yeah, I am going to sleep so well and you’re going to do all the overnight feeds and change all the poopy diapers. Get acquainted really quickly,” you teased.

He winked. “Do it in a heartbeat anyway.”

“Famous last words. Famous last… words.”

“You don’t have to come; I know you’re exhausted. I’ll text Annie, we can see them tomorrow or something instead?” you asked going for your phone to let your sister know you were out for Oscar’s kindergarten play.

“No, no. This will mean a lot for Oscar. We’ll go. It will be nice to see everyone,” Rooster replied, bent over and watching his little girl sleep in her crib. He had the dreamiest look on his face and if he kept looking like that, she’d be getting a sibling a lot quicker than expected. How did he get more handsome draped over a crib with a faraway look in his eyes was beyond you but he was divine, and home. That was all that mattered.

“You sure?” you were hoping he’d say he was too tired and then at least you wouldn’t have to convince him to make up a story to not go. He squinted, on to your bullshit. “We’re going to see a lot of the family over the next few days…” you continued.

“Oscar probably worked really hard practising for you all,” said the voice of fucking reason.

“You going for sainthood?” you rolled your eyes, mockingly.  

He shrugged. “Well, maybe not sainthood. Fairly sure I’d spontaneously combust if I ever walked into a church,” he chuckled and stood to height. God, you missed his bigness. Noting it, he kissed you, pulling you close, both of you childfree for the first time since he walked in and he held you tightly. “I missed you so fucking much. I don’t think I have ever missed you so much.”

His strong hands made their way down your sides, memorising no the new delicate curves, massaging your hips and groping your ass, bringing your waist closer. He nuzzled at your throat and left wet kisses on your clavicle, and you’d swear, it felt like the first time he’d touched you, heat prickling through your skin. “God, that feels good,” you said, wrapping your arms around his waist, hard and firm under his uniform. He always came home stronger, and you missed the way he held you.

“How much did you miss me?” he murmured into your skin. “Do we have time for each other?” he pleaded. It had been a hard four months and he was desperate to share a release with you. He walked you back towards your bed, sitting you down and easing you onto your back as he crawled over you carefully, his dog tags falling from behind the khaki and begging for you to clutch.

“I’m not back on birth control yet,” you told him gently as his tongue traced your jaw lightly. You were melted butter. “I’m so hopped up on hormones still with breastfeeding,” you barely managed to say, breath catching in your gasp.

“I’ll pull out,” he reassured you, nuzzling and kissing your earlobe without a second thought. He was playing extremely dirty. “God, you feel so good,” he huffed a disbelieving giggle into your skin. “You’re so sexy.”

God, you hated to do this. He felt so good, so hard and was so deserving but… “Bradley…” you pushed him back a little.

“What?” he asked a little surprised, and maybe exasperated.

“You need to head to the store,” you suggested, carefully.

He blinked, his eyes searching desperately between your bodies. “Why?”

“Condoms.”

He sighed and deflated. “Oh.” Shit.

“Yeah…” you tenderly caressed his waves. “Sorry.”

He shrugged, casually. “It’s fine.”

“Will you survive?” you taunted him, grabbing the chest of his khaki and balling them with playfully distressed fists.

“Sue me, I like being able to feel you,” he confessed, rolling his hips into yours, hoping to ease some growing pressure. 

“I know, I do too,” you comforted him just like a petulant kid. “We’ve never used condoms. It’s weird to start now.”

He agreed. “Imagine if you got pregnant straight away,” he laughed though you didn’t join him. His cackles stopped abruptly as you pushed him back and sat up, he did the same. “That will not happen. No Irish twins in the Bradshaw household,” he announced quickly.

“No. There will not be Irish twins in the Bradshaw household, Lt. Commander Bradshaw.”

“Lt. Commander,” he repeated, and you could hear in his voice how it turned him on to hear you say it. He watched as you loosened his belt, carefully lowered the zip on his fly and moved your hands to the straps of your sundress, letting them fall. He breathed, hips shuddering in anticipation. “I’ll do anything you want me to,” he breathed as you gently shook your head, steadily moving to your knees.

After four months of thoughts of you and his own calloused palms, Rooster deftly reminded you that he was far too excited and would probably come hard and fast. “It’s okay,” you told him, carefully slipping his incredibly strong cock into your warm hands. He groaned, watching you eagerly. This was the welcome he was expecting, but baby Bradshaw sure made her presence known. He’d have to get used to this change.

“Did you touch yourself when I was gone?” he was desperate to know, imagine it.

“Before the baby, yes. Gotta say, month eight? Horniest time of my life. You really missed out.”

“Fucking hell,” he groaned dismally.

“Oh, you would have loved being you,” you laughed quietly, gently stroking him as he groaned and fell back against the pillows. “I was pretty much insatiable.”

“Tell me more,” he begged.

“I hadn’t needed to use my toys unless we were using my toys, but between the toys and my fingers, I was averaging two, three orgasms a day.”

Rooster could cry as you stopped talking and kissing his neck and pushing him back onto the bed. Your lips continued down his uniform, your slick tongue swirling around his screaming cock. “God, that feels so fucking good,” his voice dropped. “I won’t last,” he reiterated. 

“I know, baby. It’s okay,” you told him and hovered to show him just how much you missed him. “Just enjoy.”

You’d never heard Rooster so turned on. The curses, the groans, the firmer clutch in your hair. It felt possessive - not like he’d been away but like he was trying to prove something. “Deeper,” he pleaded, a writhing mess as you dutifully did as requested. “So soft and wet,” he muttered, his hips leaving the bed to fuck your mouth as your tongue did that thing that drove him wild. “Love, I’m so close,” he strained.

He saw the purity in your eyes when you peered back up at him, telling him to go for it as you took him deeper, stroking him at the base.

“God dammit, fuck,” he almost said as an apology, he hadn’t come so hard or long in his life, hitting the back of your throat as you continued to clean up the mess he left as he panted, destroyed beyond the pillows.

His fingers were now soft as he smoothed your hair and you kissed up his body before reaching his lips. He moved your body to him, your bodies tangled in the skirt of your sundress as he kissed you rough, deep and tasting you.

“I love you so fucking much. I wish you knew how much I missed you,” he pressed furious kisses on your face, his arms a constructor around your body.

“I missed you too, so much,” you said, letting him love on you a while longer. He deserved it and you were craving him unlike ever before. 

“Are you sure I’ll be able to get a seat?” Rooster asked as you rolled your eyes.

“Rooster, it’s a kindergarten play,” you said, but honestly? You weren’t sure how full the small hall would be. “I have a ticket for you anyway. I always get a ticket for you. Because if I have to suffer through this, so do you,” you added playfully.

He laughed, bouncing on his heels as he pulled the pacifier from his pinkie and put it in his little miss’s mouth, immediately soothing her. He loved the carrier option and keeping her so close to his chest. He knew he was never going to be a stroller kind of guy and didn’t particularly care what he looked like at that moment. “You always get me a ticket?” he said, backtracking. “What do you mean?”

“Well, in case you surprise me and come home early,” you shrugged shyly. “I mean, I always want you to come to these things and the last few years you haven’t really been able to…” your voice trailed off.

“Oh,” he said with a small smile. “That’s really sweet.”

You shrugged as he kissed you. “Paid off tonight.”

“Yes, it shall,” he said darkly, wriggling his eyebrows.

“Control yourself, big boy.”

“Trying, but that blowjob has only made me want more,” he admitted. “A lot more.”

You knew how he’d felt. After you’d gone down on him, he stripped you down, caressed every piece of skin until you were on fire and buried himself between your thighs until you came all over his face. A new development in your relationship and all Rooster could do was figure out how he would manage to get you so turned on that it would happen again. Research was required, he realised. Lots of it.

“Rooster, we are at a kindergarten play, put it away,” you hissed, trying not to laugh. “Honestly, do you ever quit?”

He shook his head. “Nope. Always planning and scheming my next way to get inside you,” he murmured into your ear and you think you about melted. “You’ve never cum like that before,” he reminded you. “Sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Your entire body overheated. “Well, you weren’t the only one pent up.”

He grinned. “Apparently not,” the tease in his voice was merciless. “Apparently... not.”

“Knock it off,” you begged.

He looked so good. He’s showered four months of the carrier off him, shaved, and he smelled divine. He had about two colognes in rotation, and he was wearing your favourite one tonight. If he was trying a seduction angle… it was working but he’d never really needed to try that hard. He was a walking, talking daydream. You figured anything that wasn’t spit up was going to turn you on at this point.

You didn’t realise you were staring until he made a silly face, trying to get your attention.

“Earth to my sweet girl,” he joked, nuzzling your neck.

“I forgot how handsome you were. I never truly forget, but you are just so sexy right now.”

He laughed quietly as he followed your inside and you spotted your family. He took your hand and followed dutifully behind you.

“You couldn’t text and tell us he was home?” Annie accused as your sister and husband reached behind you to high five Rooster in greeting and you politely told her there were more pressing issues when he got home as Ava shuffled to your lap, peering at her little cousin in Rooster’s arms, and you wouldn’t ask her, but you knew Ava had her nose out of joint that she didn’t have all of Uncle Brooster’s attention.

“Uncle Brad,” she whined, making grabby hands at him. The only person in the world that got away with calling him Brad. The only person.

He gave her a gentle smile. “You wanna sit with me? I’m holding your cousin.”

“Here,” you said, “I’ll swap. You can sit next to him,” you offered as Ava shook her head and pointed indignantly at his thighs. You understood the attraction. He wasn’t getting older, he was just getting hotter. You found yourself tracing the shell of his ear without even thinking as he smiled at you and kissed your temple.

“No. With Uncle Bradwee.”

“Yikes,” you muttered. “Ava, honey. Little one is sleeping. Remember how Mom said she needs lots of sleep to grow?”

“Yes,” she said sourly. “But it’s not sharing.”

Rooster bit back his grin. “You’re very popular with the ladies tonight, Roost,” Annie joked.

“Story of my life… before the most beautiful woman in the world settled for me,” he corrected himself slowly with your raised eyebrow and motioned Ava closer to him. He covered her ear and whispered until she was beaming. You were familiar with how that worked but imagined it was nothing like what he would have murmured to you. “Think we can make that a deal?”

“Yes,” she hugged his bicep gently and sat back on your lap.

“What did you say to her?” you asked him quietly.

“Said I’d piggyback her for the rest of the evening, but only after the play and she has to sit still.”

“You’re not happy until kids are falling off you, are you?” you raised an eyebrow that Rooster caught and kissed.

He laughed. “Still the king of the kids,” he shrugged. “They’re on my level.”

“Goofball,” you rolled your eyes as Oscar’s kindergarten teachers stood before the small audience to welcome and introduce the evening.

“Here,” Viper handed Rooster a glass of whiskey and cigar later that night as you fed the baby inside. You didn’t intend to go to your grandparents but you’d gotten a text that your grandmother had cooked far too much food and yourselves and Annie’s family eagerly went over for a free feed. “To whet the baby’s head.”

“Oh,” Rooster accepted the glass. “Thank you, sir.”

“For Christ’s sake, Bradley, you’re married now. You are the father to my great-granddaughter. Call me Mike!”

Rooster bashfully bobbed his head in acknowledgement.

“Happy to be home?”

“So much,” he replied, taking a keen sip. He wasn’t fond of cigars, but he’d humour the old man anyway. “Jesus, this is good.”

“You bring out the good stuff for occasions like this,” Viper reminded him. “You doing okay, son?”

Rooster smiled softly. “Happy to be home,” he admitted. He was exhausted, he was physically and mentally cooked. His eyes were rimmed purple, and his body ached. He wasn’t getting younger and these deployments and the assignments were wearing him down. 

Viper sighed. “I’ll ask again. Are you okay, Bradley?”

Rooster regarded the older man and realised how he’d misunderstood him. “Umm,” he laughed, nervously. “This was probably the worst time away. I can’t believe I missed the birth of my baby. I can’t believe I had to tell my wife, repeatedly, that I wasn’t coming home when she needed me the most,” Rooster muttered sadly.

“It’s hard,” Viper concurred, all the familiar.

“I just don’t know if I’m meant for this anymore, sir,” Rooster confided quietly, spying over his shoulder to make sure you weren’t around. He didn’t want you to hear how upset he was, how broken up he was that he didn’t want to do this anymore. He feared if he said it out loud, it would change absolutely everything. 

But everything had changed already and he knew he simply was not the same as he was before. Before you, he’d walk onto a carrier and do everything requested of him, no thoughts required. He was now distracted, felt like he was spiralling and could only imagine being home. In the safe arms of his wife and beautiful baby daughter.

Viper nodded. “Having a child at home changes everything. It’s a hard realisation when you’ve done what you’ve done for so long.”

“I knew it would, but not like this. I was distracted, angry. I don’t know if I can keep leaving them. I know my obligation… but my life has changed,” he said. “I’m sick of missing birthdays, Sunday mornings, my bed every though it kills my back.”

“I’ve heard around the traps that Simpson is having a hard time filling a position as an educator/instructor that you might be a shoo-in for. Son, you’ve done your time. The country thanks you. But your priorities have changed.”

Rooster’s eyes shot up. “A role here? Like a 9-5?”

“A 9-5,” Viper laughed as Bradley dropped his eyes. “No. You’ll be drowning in paperwork, I would expect you would be selected for specific detachments, but that’s the calibre of pilot you are. But these months-long deployments could be a thing of the past.”

“Wow,” Rooster said, surprised. “Think he’d let me interview?”

Viper gave Rooster a look that told him he was probably at the front of the queue if he went about it right. Rooster was always going to be taken care of by Mav, Viper and when he was still alive, Iceman. They helped raise him after his father’s death and as he aged, were still there every step of the way, maybe now more so.

“Would it ground me?” He asked warily. That would be the one thing that devastated him. He needed the skies, it was his outlet, his freedom.

“No, you’d be dealing with the new assholes,” Viper grinned as Rooster flushed. Didn’t seem so long ago that Rooster was the new Top Gun asshole. “Think about it. Talk to your wife but if I know her… and I know her pretty well,” Viper chuckled, sipping from his fancy crystal tumbler. “I think she would love seeing you every day. You won’t miss those things that are most precious… as much.”

“We will probably drive each other nuts,” Rooster joked.

“I imagine so,” Viper agreed, patting Rooster’s shoulder. “Just think about it. It doesn’t always work out for everyone, but it may just work out for you.”

Clean diaper, fed and rocked to sleep by her doting daddy, you smiled from the bed as you realised it was the first night anyone else had ever put your baby to bed. You watched as he gently crooned Tupelo Honey and you swore, you’d never been more in love with him, bare-chested with his baby girl in his strong, protective arms. God, you’d missed him. He looked up at you with a gentle smile as he pushed himself to stand and nodded for you to join him.

You’d do anything he asked. “Can you show me how to put her in her crib?” he asked softly. “I don’t really know what to do.”

You nodded. “Got a good hold?”

He nodded. “Yep.”

“Okay, put her in,” you advised simply. He frowned at you. “I had to learn what works, and so will you,” you told him. “Just be gentle. She is in a pretty deep sleep, you’ll be fine. You have a couple of million dollar’s worth of firepower in your hands every day and land on a flight deck with ease, this should be a friggin’ cakewalk,” you kissed his bicep and Jesus Christ, you’d missed his smooth skin. You moved behind him, your hands smoothing across the taut muscles and golden skin. He moaned as he put your little one into her crib, and draped a small blanket over her. 

Watching him succeed was worthy of the deep kiss you’d been craving since he got out of his shower, hair loose in tight ringlets, a body more impressive than you remembered it from the last time. You felt insatiable and he really needed to help you scratch that itch.

He smiled against your lips and eased into the kiss. “Did I do good, love?”

“Perfect.”

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling your body tightly to his. “You feel so good,” his strong hands kneaded into the few extra pounds that you hadn’t managed to drop since your pregnancy and Rooster would be lying to say he wasn’t being driven wild by elegant, powerful extra curves he’d come home to. You’d muttered a few times about the baby weight, but he'd never found you sexier. “Come here,” he dropped a little to hitch his arms around your ass and raise your body to his waist. “Yeah, right there. Just like that,” he rested his forehead against yours. “Can we go to bed too?”

“I know you’re so tired,” you told him as he gave his little girl one more affectionate smile in her crib before catching your gaze, his eyes dark with desire. “But I want time with Daddy too.”

He laughed quietly. “You’ve got me right where you want me.”

“Where I need you,” you corrected, his pelvis lowering into your groin, rolling his hips without shame. Your head lolled back, the feel of his body on yours driving you wild. 

“I went to the store, I did what was asked of me,” he knew how petulant he sounded, carrying you towards the bed and easing you down. You scurried up a few feet and he crawled between your thighs. “And I need to re-learn this amazing body again.” he lay above you, the warmth in his hazel eyes revealing nothing but adoration and love. 

“It’s not exactly in the condition you like it,” you said with a pitiful eye roll. “Definitely not in a condition I like it.”

“Hey, don’t you dare talk about my wife like that, it is exactly how I love your body,” he warned, he kissed your décolletage through the old ratty, threadbare Navy tee. “You look phenomenal. You feel incredible,” he said as your hands laced into his curls, giving them a gentle tug and he grunted. Fuck, he’d missed that. “But you’re a little overdressed,” he noted the addition of the tee you used to wear when it was just you in the house, with nothing much underneath. It would drive him wild and he wondered if it was a professional choice on your behalf.

“I don’t sleep naked anymore,” you confided.

“No?” Rooster asked sadly. “Shit.”

“Maybe when she goes into her own room.”

“Are you telling me… we can’t be naked in here together?” he feared the answer. 

“We can,” you stroked his handsome, oh-so-concerned face. “And, trust me when I say, I cannot wait to get you naked.”

“But…”

“I’m just feeling really self-conscious.”

He nodded. “I don’t know why, I think you’re absolutely beautiful.”

“I haven’t gotten into the pool for months. I was too uncomfy when I was really pregnant, and now I simply don’t have the time to. I don’t eat like I used to; I barely have time to shower.”

He broke into a small smile, letting you continue.

“I know this is all incredibly unsexy.”

“You could never be unsexy to me. This is our new normal and I wouldn’t change a thing about it. But I’m here now and I’ll do everything I can to make you understand how fuckin’ wonderful, sexy and perfect you are to me.”

“You trying to get laid, Bradshaw? Because you don’t have to work that hard, big boy. You know I’m a sure thing,” you joked as he laughed, his fondness for you shining in his hazel eyes.

“I like to make an effort,” he said jokingly. He nudged you. “But there is no version of you that is going to disappoint me. Your body is stronger now than it ever was. I will always be a mess for you. Nothing will change that,” he found your hands and gripped them above your head, pinning you down. “Tell me what you need and I’ll give you everything I have, love.”

“As much as I need all the hungry, desperate stuff, because fuck, I do… can we just be here together, slow?”

Primed to joke, but knowing you didn’t need one now, he smiled and nodded, knowing you needed to reconnect, just be one for a while. “I’ll be anything you need, sweet girl. Always.”

Somewhere around 3:30am, Rooster rose to the sound of his little girl whimpering and watched as you sighed, flicking your bedside light on. “Go back to sleep,” you told him as you stretched your tired bones. “You need your rest.”

“It’s okay. I’m awake,” he told you, watching you stumble across the room to pick up your daughter. He eased onto his elbows, watching you slow, methodical ministrations to organise yourself and your body fed his baby. “Do you know how strong you are? You are still as powerful as the ocean, baby,” he said, kind of amazed.

“Literally sitting on a chair with my boob out,” you were too tired to see his humour or affection and yawned.

“You miss your sleep,” he realised.

“I miss my sleep,” you admitted. “This is the most taxing thing I've ever done in my life. No one could have warned me how exhausted I’d be.”

“I couldn’t be prouder of you. I know I need to support you better. I know I’ve been away too much. I know I promised you I’d be home more,” he said softly.

“I know what I got myself in for,” you replied, with a small shrug. “And I know things will change one day.”

He nodded softly. “I never wanted you to do this alone, you know that, right?”

“Bradley, nothing is going to change until it changes,” you didn’t mean to sound so short but it was what it was.

He sighed and slid out of bed, pulling on his boxer briefs and padding across the room quietly and sitting before you, drawing his knees to his chest. “I know how hard it was for Mom to do it all on her own.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“I don’t wanna be a part-time dad.”

You sighed as your eyes welled up a little bit. You would be so happy when the hormones levelled themselves out. You’d also be happy for a full night's sleep. And to finish a cup of coffee without interruption. “I don’t want that either.”

“I don’t want you to think I’m not all in. Because I am. We’re married, and we have the perfect daughter. I am so in love with you and this little bubble we have here.”

“I miss you so much when you’re gone. I feel like I’m going a little madder every day,” you said, the tears slipping freely now and he was up on his feet immediately, sliding in beside you on the rocker, holding you tightly.

“Sweet girl,” he cooed softly.

“Only 18 more years of this,” you laughed incredulously through the tears.

“I am right here. I always will be.”

“I know, I just imagined it to be different. You’d be home. We’d do this together. And we’re not and I hate that you’re missing everything.”

“Not hardly as much as me. But things are going to change this year. I’m going to make it up to you. I promise,” he drew a series of light kisses into your temple until you stopped shaking underneath him and relaxed against his strong body. “I love you so much. I will never let anything happen to you. You are my life, and I will do anything and everything every day to make sure you know that, sweet girl.” 

When the baby was fed and you’d gotten back into bed, he held you tightly. And when you’d fallen back asleep, he found his phone and opened his email, looking for the job Viper had mentioned. He’d read it a few times, knowing that if he was going to commit to being here for you, it was now or never. 

He wasn’t sure if was right or if it would be the answer you were both looking for but as his thumb hovered over the button, he dared no longer and pressed APPLY before he could talk himself out of it.

Christmas Eve, you swore loudly as Rooster stood before you, expectantly.

In khaki.

“Is it Halloween? What the fuck, Bradley?” you removed a shirt covered in spit up and tossed it at the hamper, a bit of force behind your aim. “You said you were on leave until after New Year.”

“I didn’t say anything about expectations on base,” he reminded you softly.

“Jesus Christ,” you muttered. He’d never seen you get so upset so quickly. He knew you were up half the night, but he was not expecting that kind of response.

“I won’t be gone all day. I have a meeting with Vice-Admiral Simpson.”

“Whatever, I don’t care. Use your excuses somewhere else,” you rolled your eyes, the shirt that missed the hamper grating on you and you put it in properly, slamming it shut.

“Calm down, baby. What is wrong?” Rooster had never seen you like this. You weren’t slamming doors and taking it out on hampers even in your worst fights.

“I’m tired, it’s hard doing this alone. This was family time. You, me, the baby,” you reminded him. “And you’re about to go to work,” you accused.

“Okay, okay, I get it,” he said, reaching to hold you as you stepped back.

“No, just go have your meeting. I’ve got stuff to do. The world doesn’t stop revolving just because you’re home,” you snipped, pushing past him. “We need to be at Annie’s for Christmas Eve dinner at 4pm. If you’re not here, I’ll meet you there… or whatever.”

Rooster didn’t bother watching you huff out. He smoothed his freshly trimmed moustache, incredibly pissed off that he ended up in the firing line. Sure, he wasn’t going to tell you he was going to interview for a position that had him home at dinnertime every night in case he was laughed out of the place, but a little understanding would have been nice. He inhaled sharply, calming down and following you but was not ready to explain the email from Cyclone’s secretary about wanting an interview with him asap.

Finding you in the laundry, he stepped into the confined space as you slammed closed the washer. Without asking, he picked you and up placed on you your machine, resisting every urge to joke that this machine had been used for more than just washing in friskier times.

“Don’t do that,” you muttered.

“Look at me,” he said softly, his thumb caressing your chin and he forced your eyes to his. “I am only going to be an hour or so. I know you’re tired, but I’ll come home, you can nap and I’ll put the little one in the carrier and hit the beach, okay? But I have to go to this meeting.”

“What is it, a debrief or something?” you breathed, knowing you were completely irrational, trying to control your mood but even as handsome as he was in his uniform, you weren’t banking on seeing him in it, as promised, this side of New Year.

“Yeah,” he said. “Something like that.”

“Okay, I guess I will see you when you get home.”

“Kiss me, please?” he said softly. And of course, you did, letting him pull you against him tightly. You couldn’t stay angry at him and it drove you mad that it only took those soft puppy dog eyes and you were a keening mess for him. Not much had changed after all this time. “That’s more like it,” he said with a gentle smirk. “I love you. I’ll be home soon,” he kissed your forehead and left.

“I love you too,” you said softly after him.

“Gotta plan,” you said finding Rooster strumming his guitar on the floor in his music room later that evening. He had developed a habit the last few years… shoes and shirts in the house were unnecessary and you thought you might be drooling as you noted the top button of his jeans loose. Baby asleep, Christmas lights your strung across the speakers low… wine in your hands. He deserved a good ravishing. You’d see to it.

“What’s that, sweet girl?” he asked as you put the glasses on the coffee table, barely clothed in a loose tank of his. The sound he made in his throat was unnatural, catching you both by surprise. You giggled quietly, taking a seat behind him on the couch. “Need a minute, big boy?”

“I have no idea what that was,” he admitted, swallowing. “Sue me; you look so hot.” So much skin, side boob... no panties. He couldn’t figure out why you’d even bothered with the tank.

You hummed, rolling your eyes. “To breathe,” you instructed the wine and him as he nodded.

"I’ll try. Jesus, woman, warn a man first,” he muttered, eyes fluttered closed as you lost your nails to his unkempt curls.

“I’m going to pump… then we’re going to enjoy this wine because it’s Christmas Eve.”

“OK – ”

“Then we’re going to have sex. And I am planning multiple orgasms… for both of us.”

Rooster laughed quietly, putting the guitar down and turning gracefully to your face. He kissed you roughly. “I could help you with something that doesn’t require any hands…” he hinted, scurrying before you and spreading your legs wide. “All you’d have to do is sit there and take what I give you.”

“Bradley!” you exclaimed as he wasted absolutely no time giving you exactly what he had in mind. 

If there was anything better in life, Bradley Bradshaw had yet to find it. His darling baby girl asleep draped down his chest after an early morning wake-up he eagerly took to as you dozed against his shoulder, enjoying the lie-in. Pretty lucky asshole, he realised.

Annie had handed him the gorgeous eternity ring he’d designed before he left on his last deployment that coincided with your push present (something he wasn’t aware of until Natasha had made a big deal of it during 200 push-ups one afternoon). Not under the tree, but in his side table drawer. He called your name quietly.

“Hmm?” you hummed, linking your fingers with him across the angel on his chest, not all that interested in waking.

“Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Bradley,” you yawned, kissing his bicep but making no real rush to get moving.

“I know we didn’t have much time to talk last night… and I’m sorry again work got in the way.”

“The Navy will always be in the way,” you replied drily. “It’s okay, really.”

“I didn’t tell you about the… debrief,” he chose his words carefully. 

You huffed but didn’t answer.

“It was an interview. For a permanent position here.” When you didn’t reply, he continued. “I met with Cyclone yesterday for a teaching/instructor role for new blood. I’ll still be in the air every day, I’ll have a fuckload of paperwork to do, and I’ll probably have late nights. But I get to come to bed with you every night.” 

He could feel the tears spill against his skin and he pulled you closer to him, trying not to disturb the little one. 

“So, I guess you’ll be seeing a lot more of me…”

“That is so good,” was all you could manage to say.

“I will still be recalled for special detachments – hopefully, nothing like last year.”

“Yeah, could really do without you being shot down over enemy territory,” you told him so seriously he was almost scared. He was most certainly not wishing for the same thing either.

“I understand,” and he knew you or he had absolutely no say on where, when and how he was instructed to undertake any mission he found himself on. All he could promise was he would be safer in future.

“When will you know if you’ve got it?”

“Cyclone texted a few minutes ago, actually,” he said, smoothing his hand down his little miss’ back. He would never get used to this feeling. It was so wholesome, he was almost sick.

“Bradley… did you get it?” you sat up, suddenly very awake.

He handed you his phone in his opposite palm. “He wants me to have time off until the next group commences in mid-January. And he says Merry Christmas,” he couldn’t hide his grin. “You’re very quiet... is this you speechless?” he teased.

“Oh my God, Bradley!” you exclaimed, kissing him wildly. “Congratulations, my baby. I’m so fucking proud of you,” you kissed his lips, tongue snaking in cheekily.

“Thank you,” he chuckled quietly, cupping your cheek.

“I can’t believe you’ll be here every day…”

“I’m going to drive you so mad.”

“Impossible,” you kissed him again. “This is the best news.”

Rooster laughed. “Well, get used to it.”

“I certainly will.”

“Think you’ll be okay? I mean… half your life has been on an aircraft carrier. It will be a hard adjustment. You’ll see your friends less.”

“Coming home to my girls and eating amazing food, with hot water and forceful water pressure? Sharing a bed with you and not some random that snores/farts/jerks off when I’m in the vicinity?”

“Gross,” he wasn’t great at talking up the Navy at the best of times.

“Yeah, think I’ll live,” he reached to kiss you. “I still get to fly, probably in the air more, I may be called away for special detachments,” he figured it was best to get that out there. It would be a fuckload worse if that happened later.

You nodded, solemnly. There was a catch of course, but it wasn’t a dealbreaker.

“What do you think?” he asked softly.

“Best Christmas ever,” you told him, smiling happily, eyes shining with tears. “I’m definitely going to have to go back on birth control,” you said certainly.

“Absolutely. Daily sex is back on your agenda, Mrs Bradshaw. God, I’m so happy to say that.”

“Daily,” you scoffed.

“Okay, five days a week,” Rooster reasoned with a cheeky grin.

“No, no. We can still negotiate daily,” you rolled over properly, and he looked at you adoringly. “Just entering my prime really.”

“You’ve always been in your prime.”

He gently sat up and moved to stand, walking his little girl to her crib and putting her in safely. He watched her, mesmerised, a little more. “Merry Christmas, but I’m sorry, darling heart, but I think this is time for Momma and Dada,” he said.

“You can say our names,” you instructed as he dived onto the bed, bouncing you gently.

“Yeah, I take it back,” he grinned. “Where do you want me? I’ll do anything.”

“Dealer’s choice,” you winked. He brought the good news; you would do anything he asked of you as he pumped his fists in celebration.

“Get on those hands and knees, sweet girl. We’re getting dirty this Christmas morning.”

A/N: the tag list no longer exists. To keep up to date, give @notroosterbradshaw-library a follow x

[kiirotoao]

Will being the most beloved person in The Party to Mike is sweet, no doubt, but like, god, imagine how the others would subtly favor him too-

Dustin and Mike sometimes catch Will wearing Lucas’ letterman jacket and they’re a little jealous. Lucas justifies that Will is only one who won’t ruin it (and he’s right - Will never does).

On that strain, Lucas doesn’t let anyone else near his wardrobe except for Will. Only he gets to wear the headband. Lucas also doesn’t accept fashion advice from anyone else.

When the boys get older and take everyone out to dinner to hang out, the fight for the bill at the end of the night is absolutely insane. There is yelling and threatening between Mike, Lucas, and Dustin, and Will sometimes has to sneak the waiter the bill just so they’ll stop, but they get even more upset because they don’t ever want Will to pay (Will finds it hilarious).

After the night Will went missing, Dustin made it a point to buy Will comics. Dustin felt so bad, at first, thinking about the time he went missing, but it slowly became just a regular thing and now Will has a truckload of comics.

Dustin randomly gives Will snacks in passing between classes. Will would sometimes refuse them or give them back, so eventually, Dustin just put them in his locker.

When Will gets his first job, everyone visits him at least once a day to keep him company and see how he’s doing. They don’t care to visit each other though. Just Will.

Second to El, Max teaches Will how to skate when he asks about it. She refuses to teach anyone else in The Party (much to Lucas’ dismay lmao).

Max also shows Will how she gets high scores on Dig Dug. Everyone else can suffer.

Every secret Santa, Will’s gift is always the most expensive. Without fail. (For example, Max gave him brand new Vans with cool designs. Dustin gave him a fancy radio. Lucas gave Will a bunch of really nice art supplies. And bonus because of my Byler heart - Mike gave him a nice leather jacket just so he could see Will wearing one).

Erica is usually a pretty aggressive player in D&D and she will sacrifice her party members on some occasions, but she never lets Will die in any campaign. It doesn’t matter that he can be revived. He cannot die on her watch. Ever.

Also!!! Erica buys Will a new D&D set with even more cool features as a thank you for the set that he donated to her 😭💕

Also another bonus - when the kids went to Scoops Ahoy, Steve and Robin made it a point to give Will extra ice cream and toppings.

(I know that El’s also a part of The Party, but that’s just sibling stuff so I’ll make a part two just for them :3)

[ayvayenildi]

Snupin First Wizarding War Headcanon I Cannot Stop Thinking About

Just imagine Remus Lupin being a spy for the Order of Phoenix during the First Wizarding War and infiltrating the werewolfs that serve Voldemort as just another desperate one except he encounters Severus Snape, who very obviously knows who Remus is and how loyal he is to his friends. Surely, Remus is afraid that Snape will denounce him in a matter of seconds but instead he offers a deal: he will turn a blind eye on Remus' presence if Remus tells him how Lily is doing or, at least, whether she's still alive. This Snape is not yet a spy but he isn't very devoted to Voldemort's cause either plus he still cares about Lily above all else and knowing nothing about her drives him mad.

Remus doesn't like the idea but he doesn't really see a way out so he starts feeding Severus pieces of information. Slowly but steadily they grow closer and begin to cover each other's asses (Remus needs quite a lot of ass covering as he still tries not to hurt anyone and that makes other werewolves and Death Eaters suspicious). What started as a forced alliance becomes a real friendship as they are both in a desperate need of someone close; that's the time where some people in the Order start suspecting that Remus is a double-agent and is actually working for Voldemort — the Marauders seem to canonically think so as well, at least that's why (according to Sirius in the third book) they didn't tell Remus about Peter as the Secret-Keeper.

Imagine Remus and Severus growing so close over time that one morning after getting way too drunk for all the worst reasons they do actually wake up in the same bed. Imagine them both embarrassed as hell (Remus still has this big fat unrequited longing for Sirius and Severus is in a sort of situationship with Lucius), and they try to act as if it didn't happen except they both can't and keep coming back for more. Imagine them just finding some comfort in each other's embrace amidst what they both (wrongly) consider to be the worst time in their lives. That little thing they have quickly grows out of control.So, when Lily dies, and Snape desperately needs to blame someone for what had happened (he already blames himself but that’s simply not enough to calm the pain), the only person he can think of is Remus. It's Remus who distracted him and made him lose control. If it wasn't for Remus, he might have been able to save her.

Well... at least that's how I explain why Remus in the third book stubbornly calls Snape by his first name, thank you for coming to my TedTalk, bye!!