#I mean not barely a kids show. just a very well done one

[witherby]

HI HI. SAME ANON :33anon here!!!

omg???? jfc christ? that was so good im shaking my cup for more 😭 i think the fact my ask is being used as a power shower is silly... i love it keep up the good work!

(side note ive done metamorphosis may i be 🎆anon.... i will be yapping at you on a later date o7)

Welcome to the club 🎆 I am smooching ur cheek

Hahaha...wouldn't it be so silly....if I used your ask again.....to post the second part hahahaha.....isn't that the silliest idea hahahaha.........

The Littlest Wayne: Uncertain Home

(Part 2 of 2)

Masterlist is Here!

"Let me make sure I've got this straight."

Everyone stiffens in their seats. When Batman says things like that, it means he is very, very close to yelling. Batman never yells unless his patience has reached its limit, his emotional threshold has bubbled over, or he hasn't slept in over six consecutive days. Given his usual activities, it could very well be a combination of the three, and the current situation is not helping.

"You —" he points a gauntleted finger at Manhunter, "— realized my child was showing signs of developing their powers six weeks ago, and told no one."

He turns to Superman and Diana next, talking through clenched teeth.

"And then you two, today, realized the same thing, indirectly told them they would no longer have a place in my home, and then they vanished under your cape."

He places his hands on the meeting table. Inhales. Exhales.

"No one attempted to reach out and express their concerns to me, the father, in either incident."

He slams his fists on the table. The wood splinters under the impact. Everyone flinches with it.

"AND NOW MY CHILD IS MISSING! DID I FORGET ANYTHING? DID I LEAVE ANYTHING OUT!?"

The silence afterwards is deafening. Bruce yanks his cowl off and slams it to the floor, running his hands through his hair.

"The Watchtower is under lockdown until further notice. We do not leave until either I find my kid, or I figure out how to track them down."

"Batman," the Flash chimes in, "I feel for you. This is a bad situation, but we can't all stay here; I have to —"

Bruce rounds the table and crowds Barry into his seat with near-inhuman speed. His eyes are wide and wild and his teeth are bared.

"We do not leave until I find them."

The lights briefly turn red and an automated voice comes over the intercom, alerting them that lockdown protocols have initiated. The heroes watch as blast shields cover the windows and the Zeta tubes deactivate, effectively blocking their only ways out.

Green Lantern re-enters the room from the observation deck with a determined expression.

"Checked the monitors and surrounding galaxy. Skies are clear, and earth-side we should be fine for at least a couple hours, so I went ahead and triggered the protocol."

"Hal!" Barry protests. "C'mon, I'm gonna be late to work again! It's not as easy for some of us to maintain our civilian covers, you know!"

"Well, then it sounds like we gotta find our missing Mouse fast."

Bruce presses a button on his gauntlet and pulls a small ball out of it, rolling it to the center of the table. A hologram screen pops up and shows a picture of you sitting in Tim's lap and enthusiastically looking at something on his computer with him. To the right of the image, a wall of text begins to appear, detailing observations made about your growth, health, and development of your powers.

"You already knew," Diana mutters, like the words have been punched out of her. Clark holds his head in his hands.

"Why didn't you tell us then, huh?" Oliver frowns. "Didn't think we could benefit from that information?"

"My child, my discretion," Bruce hisses. That shuts Ollie right back up. "This is everything I've been able to passively observe about their ability. They can latch onto any shadows in their immediate vicinity, up to a range of approximately one hundred feet, and until now has only used them for pathfinding, like solving puzzles or looking for small objects. What just happened today with Superman's cape is the first discovered instance of them being able to traverse into darkness itself."

"That's why the Watchtower is locked down," J'onn realizes. "If they can only travel so far with the shadows, chances are high that they're still in here."

"Yes."

"How do we pull them out if we find them?" Arthur speaks up, arms crossed. "Last I checked, no one else has shadow powers."

"Do what you can without risking injury to them or yourselves. If you can talk them out, that will be the ideal tactic. Any more questions?" Bruce waits a few seconds for anyone to speak up, then dismisses the holo-screen and rises to his full height. "Then everyone fan out, cast some shadows, and get to work."

--

Arthur is having no luck. He checks the furniture that was already casting shadows, like tables and beds and appliances, to no avail. Calling to you and feeling around those dark spaces isn't gonna get him anywhere.

Clark and Diana had picked up his cape and hunkered down under the fabric, gingerly asking you to please come out, Uncle Clark and Auntie Di are very sorry they implied what they did, they never meant to scare you, please please please come back.

Barry is zipping around the whole tower, checking high spaces and low, calling for you with a mixture of urgency and concern.

Ollie uses his body to cast a shadow under the fluorescent lighting and Dinah crouches in the space of it, patting the ground gently and urging you to appear. She insists everyone is worried and looking for you because they want you to be safe.

Bruce is frantic. He's visually very composed, but Hal can see the tremble in his hands as he slowly and methodically checks every single shadow he can find or create for signs of you.

"Bruce," Hal mutters, watching him check his cape for the fifteenth time in just as many minutes. "Bruce, sit down and breathe for a bit."

"Don't mention breathing," Bruce snaps. "This is unprecedented. I'm working with zero useful information and three of my teammates contributed to this situation in the first place. Can they just exist in darkness forever, or is there a limit before they get spit back out? Can they even get back out? Is there oxygen wherever they are? Are they safe or in any kind of distress? If you don't have answers to these questions or haven't found them yet, I don't want you talking to me."

He turns to check his cape again and almost runs right into J'onn.

"There was a shadow moving in the training room," he noted. "When I approached to investigate, it melted away. I found it important to tell you that Flittermouse seems to be active and uninjured judging by the ease in which that shadow moved."

The Manhunter leaves them again, phasing through the walls to continue searching for you. Bruce pulls his gloves off and rubs his face, sighing.

"Hal."

"I forgive you," comes the immediate reply. Hal places a hand on Bruce's back and offers him a thin smile. "You're a dad who's scared for your four-year-old kid. I think you're entitled to a little bit of bitchiness."

Bruce hums.

"Just a little bit, though. Like fifteen percent more bitch than your baseline. Which is to say, if you talk to me like that again I'm going to make a giant cartoon hammer and beat you to death with it."

Both men hear you giggle. Their heads whip around in the direction of the sound, and find a small, child-shaped shadow moulded into the corner. It's a strange thing, to look at a shadow with no source. It would be frightening if it wasn't you.

"Mouse?" Bruce immediately calls, stepping towards you. The giggling stops and the shadow shrinks. He crouches down, palms extended. "No no no! Don't go, don't go anywhere, please. Can I talk to you?"

You don't respond. Bruce isn't entirely sure if you can, in your current form. You haven't run away yet, however, so he inches just a bit closer.

"I'm...there's...." He stops and starts, searching for the best words to use. "Mouse, there was a misunderstanding. No one is making you leave. I'm not going to give you up or send you away, I promise."

"...m e t a h u m a n..." you mutter. Both Bruce and Hal shiver. It sounds like darkness itself whispering directly into their ears, faint and echoing and all-encompassing.

"Yes, that's what people with skills like yours are called," he confirms.

Your shadow doesn't move for a while. Bruce shuffles closer, palms extended, and is about to ask you to come out, but then your entire form wobbles and starts shrinking even more.

"...n o m e t a s i n G o t h a m..." you say, and the sadness in your voice is so potent Hal has to brace himself against the wall.

"No!" Bruce says, pressing his palm against the wall just a second too late. You dissolve and disappear. "That's not — ffffffuck."

He presses his forehead to the wall and closes his eyes, taking slow, deep breaths to avoid screaming. It takes a while.

"They're not going to talk to me," he eventually says. "They're scared of me, of that damned rule I —"

He cuts himself off and rubs a hand down his face.

"You have to do it."

"Me? Specifically?" Hal asks.

"You're their favorite uncle." Bruce pushes himself off the floor and rests his hand on Hal's forearm. "They adore you. They ask when you're going to visit Gotham again all the time. If anybody's gonna get them to understand that they're not in any trouble or danger of losing their family because of something I did, it's gonna be you."

"Whoa. No pressure," Hal says. He knows it's true though — you absolutely adore Hal, and the feeling is mutual. You feel almost like his own kid. He's just as scared as Bruce is about your current situation. "Okay...alright, I got this. Listen, tell the others that Mouse probably isn't gonna come out for 'em. Go hang out in the meeting room and gimme an hour alone. I'll bring them back."

Bruce nods, but he seems hesitant to leave the part of the hall where they spotted your shadow. Hal gives him a small nudge and he eventually turns away, his boots clocking softly against the floor.

Hal inhales slowly, holds it, then exhales for a count of ten.

He's got this.

--

He does not have this. Hal walked into an empty corridor and flicked all the lights off, choosing to sit in the darkness and try calling out to you for almost thirty minutes. There's been no luck.

He sighs and uses his ring to construct a small bear, illuminating the immediate space around him in green, and makes it walk around.

"Y'know you used to love playing with my constructs," he murmurs. "We had this game I made up, where you would chase after whatever toy I made as fast as you could and try to catch it. I let you win a lot."

He makes a construct of you as a much smaller infant, not yet able to walk, crawling eagerly after the bear.

"You'd grab the little toy and hug it tight, and then come show me you got it. And I'd scoop you up and give you a cookie before we did it all again. We had to really tone down the cookie part because you got sick one time. Bruce made me sleep on the floor for a week. Not even one of the million couches in the manor. The floor. It was the worst."

He hears the surrounding darkness around him giggle. Hal leans against the wall and heaves a large, relieved sigh.

"Hey, kid," he says softly. "S'good to hear you."

You don't respond. He tries not to feel discouraged, instead seizing the opportunity presented.

"I'm not gonna ask you to come out, but if you don't mind...I'm kinda lonely. D'you think we could play that game again?"

Hal vanishes the constructs and makes a new one — a small, stuffed bat toy. He makes it flap its little wings and flop in circles.

"Think you can catch it? This one's a bit feisty."

Nothing happens for a few seconds. Hal feels himself growing nervous, and he's about to abandon the idea and suggest something else, but then the bat just vanishes. The construct is sucked up into the shadows, like darkness itself came up and hugged it into the void. A knot in his chest comes undone.

"That," he says, "was awesome. Okay, here's another one. Even feistier than the last."

This goes on for a while. Hal makes something for you to chase, you emerge from the dark just long enough to pull it in with you, and the process is rinse and repeat. Eventually, though, you come out of the shadows more and more, staying out of it longer and longer to chase around the conjured toys, until you're just tossing them into the shadows with gleeful little cheers.

"Got it!" You cry, jumping up to reach another one, this time shaped like an owl. You're panting from exertion and grinning widely at Hal, just standing and hugging it to your chest. "I win?"

"You win again," Hal agrees, expression painfully fond. He adores you wholeheartedly. "C'mere and get a victory hug, kid. Don't have any cookies on me, but we'll do a raincheck on that."

You go to him easily, practically collapsing in his lap, and rest your head against his chest while you idly pet the glowing owl toy. The area is bathed in dim green, enough to see each other without strain but still casting more than enough shadows for you to hide in again if you wanted.

"Fantastic job," Hal murmurs, kissing the top of your head. You nuzzle into his chest even more, hiding your face. "We definitely have to do that again some time. Don't you think?"

You start to nod, but the motion is jerky. You hesitate, then shrug, hugging the toy tighter.

"Oh, Mousey," he says, running his fingers through your hair. "You didn't think your powers would make Uncle Hal stop wanting to play with you, did ya?"

You slowly nod again, curling in on yourself.

"Well, that's just plain wrong. I love you, honey. Everybody loves you, y'know? You're smart, and adorable, and soooo much fun to be around," Hal insists, giving you a quick squeeze. Your mouth twitches like you're trying not to smile. "And it's gonna be way more fun now that you have cool shadow powers! Hide and seek might get a little challenging, but we'll make it work."

"...and Daddy?" You mutter. "Will he...want to play, too?"

"I know Daddy would love to play any game you wanted," Hal swore. "Daddy loves you more than anything in the whole wide world. And you know what else?"

"What?" You ask, lifting your head. You look at him with wide eyes and furrowed brows, hanging onto his every word.

"Sometimes Daddy makes mistakes. Like creating dumb rules he shoulda broke years ago."

You look away, snuggling further into Hal.

"What if...Daddy don't wanna break the rule?" You whisper.

Hal curls around you almost protectively, kissing your head again.

"Then he's a big, smelly dummy, and I'll take care of you instead," he promises. "You can live at my house, and I'll still bring you to the Watchtower to hang out with everyone and play games, and maybe, if you're extra good, I'll take you on vacation in outer space. I'll show you things you've never seen, like planets with four moons, and people as tall as skyscrapers, and space food that turns your hair all different colors. It'll explode your tiny head!"

"Nooo!" You giggle, grinning. "I don't want a exploded head!"

"Hmm...you drive a hard bargain kid," Hal says. "Okay, I won't give you explodey-head food. But only because you said so."

He lets you get your laughter out, then gently pats your back to regain your attention.

"I know you're very scared," he says, "but I promise this doesn't change the fact that you are so, so incredibly loved. I bet if you gave the others a chance, they'd be more than willing to prove it. Especially your dad."

You tighten your grip on the owl in your arms, bottom lip wobbling for a moment.

"Could you give him a chance, Mouse?" Hal asks. "If you don't want to, that's fine. We can work an arrangement out and always try again a different day. But I know he would be really, really excited to see you again."

You stare at Hal, face tight in contemplation. He waits patiently, continuing to rub small circles in your back.

His patience is rewarded when you bury your face in his chest again, nodding.

"Want daddy," you whisper. Hal settles you more securely in his arms and immediately rises to his feet, relishing the burst of satisfaction and relief in his chest.

He takes you back into the meeting room. Bruce immediately stands up from the table when he spots you curled up in Hal's embrace, hands twitching like he wants to hold you himself.

He moves with all the carefulness of someone approaching a wild animal. His face is uncharacteristically open, broadcasting his worry for you and relief that you're unharmed.

"Hi, sweet pea," Bruce mutters, silk-soft, and that's all it takes to make you start sobbing and reach for him. Your father doesn't hesitate, sweeping you up and giving assurance after assurance that you are just as treasured and loved as you've always been, that he is so happy to be your dad, that you belong in Gotham and that will never change no matter what.

The lockdown gets lifted from the Watchtower. Several heroes, after conveying their relief and gratitude over your safety, take their leave. Diana and Clark stay behind to apologize profusely, both to you and Bruce, for implying that you would ever be unwelcome in your own home just for being different. It's easy for you to forgive them, but Bruce is grinding his jaw a bit, so they excuse themselves for the night and take their leave.

"Well." Hal claps his hands together and yawns. "I'm ready for a drink and a bed. What do we say we hit the road, huh? C'mon, B, let's get Flittermouse back home. I've hit my daily quota for adventure."

Bruce nods, walking with you back to the Zeta tubes. You've already nodded off in his arms, drained from your stressful day.

"Thank you, Hal," he says, preparing to warp home. "Come by after the kids are in bed. Let me repay you properly."

"Y'know, normally I'd be all over that," Hal smirks, "but I'm seriously beat. Can I cash my reward in tomorrow?"

Bruce gives him a small smile. "Whenever you want. Come by anyway, if you like. We don't have to do anything."

"Yeah, okay. I'll see you later, then." Hal crosses his arms and relaxes against the corridor wall, smiling down at your dozing form. "You take care. Both of you."

Bruce thanks him again, disappearing in a flash of light. When Hal drops by later that evening, he finds his boyfriend asleep with you in his arms, clinging to his shirt and drooling on his chest as you coast peacefully in Dreamland.

Before joining the cuddle pile, he finds that sitting on the nightstand, written in a combination of pen and crayon, is a contract holding both yours and Bruce's signatures:

The rule against Metahumans in Gotham is hereby null and void forever and ever.

Signed by: Daddy & Mousey

[focalove]

Bathing with him

Cw! : gn!reader....... with some mentions of maybe f!/m!reader, mentions of d*ck, nothing too explicit. written before sunday & aven release!

Aventurine

✦ 01 bb come home the kids miss u :(

✦ 02 Though, by all means, Aventurine never or rarely reveal his ✦ bare naked self infront of anyone. So congratulations for achieving this level of intimacy with him

✦ 03 At first he'd be so cocky and teaseful when you asked him if you wanted to bath with him

✦ 04 "Oh? princess/prince-y here wants to bathe with me? well what's the occasion, or are you just that touch starved?" he snickered with a smirk of a devil in his face

✦ 05 I also think he'd also ask you to undress you to like "sweetie… I don't think I can take off my shirt… can you help me?" and he would be dangling his chest window area

✦ 06 and his pants too maybe, to show you his d---

✦ 07 anywayz, when both of you finally get in the bathtub, he'd be so shy

✦ 08 pls lead him!! princess needs his directions on how to do it correctly :<

Aventurine had a big bathroom. Big bathtub, a lot of space, fully furnished bathroom, a complete set of bath commodities. For you, it was like a dream bathroom. And there you are, sitting on the brims of the bathtub. The water tempeture was warm and the fragrance of the soap that had been mixed with the water was devine.

The door opened, revealing Aventurine in a towel around his waist. You can hear the footsteps behind you. An indication he's coming. "The water is set, you can get it in you'd like" you played with the water just a bit.

Aventurine put a hand onto your shoulder and gave you a kiss on the cheek "Mhm sure, arent you getting in honey?"

"I am, i am.. what, you need help with your towel?"

"Is that an offer, sweetheart?"

"…forget I said anything then" he snorted and smirked hearing your retort

As soon as both of you had done removing eachother's towels, both of you get in the bath tub.

Aventurine, gets in slowly, almost like as if he was scared to break the water itself. Adorable, really. To see a man who acts so smug and so sure of himself, express nervousness when he's just taking a bath with his one and only lover. You noticed his nervous behavior and you cant help but let out a light chuckle, "Scared much, Avey?".

In which he reply "Nonsense, lovely." however to contrast his words, he stammered on his words he spoke. It's not that noticeable, so he hopes you don't notice it.

yet ofcouse you would notice it and scooch over to him closer and give him a little kiss on his shoulder and snake an arm on the back of his waist. Just a way to tease him, just a bit.

He flinched slightly by your touch and scoffed "Devil much huh? oh sorry, I meant hell spawn." you laugh, "Not my fault that handsome here is so stiff. Come on, I'll wash your hair and you wash mine"

He let you do as you please with him. It felt oddly nice to have someone taking care of him for once in a lifetime. You do it so gently with him too, now how could he not feel at least slightly emotional when only such a few people have given him comfort and almost all of them have died? And now here you are, taking care of him like he's a stray cat.

He just can't help it but say

".... I'm glad I met you, I love you, sweetheart."

Jing Yuan

✦ 01 Big cat. Very big cat.

✦ 02 Big cat flop onto the bath tub

✦ 03 Big cat will ask u to wash his hair (uncertain he would do the same tho)

✦ 04 Will sleep if u take too long to shampoo his hair.

✦ 05 Cold water can do the trick to wake him up

✦ 06 Would probably pull you in a huge hug too.

When Jing Yuan got on the bathtub, it was almost as if he hogged all the space that were available. "Hey, how come I don't get a room?" You complained. Which he replies with a lazy smirk "you can just sit on my lap?"

An awkward pause fills up the room, and the longer the pause, the more contagious the little pink blush is on your cheeks which he just cannot help himself to laugh. "Well? Would you like to, dove?" In which you just let out a whine.

Eventually, you cave in and give into his whims. It's not like there's any other way to get in the bath tub without any of his body parts being touched by you. Now here you are, sitting on top of his lap, looking like a confused cat, don't know where to leap next.

It was a sight for sore eyes. You looked cute, now he can't help but let out a playful chuckle and bring you forward to him. "Why so stiff? Is it your first time seeing me stripped? I don't think so…" Worst part, he gave you his signature little lazy smile, looking like he has no wrongdoings.

"That's… Irrelevant, just let me do your hair, baobei." Hence, he let his head down and let you untie his ponytail, and do the rest

While you were washing his hair, his eyelids suddenly felt heavy. He couldn't help it, it felt so good to have your delicate yet skillful fingers all over his scalp. It just so happens that you were doing too great of your job.

"Baobei, it's done~!" You twisted his hair and stuck it into the top of his head. "Baobei?" You called him out again. No response.

Out of suspicion, you raise his head to show his sleeping face. Ah, in all of the places in the universe.. he just had to sleep at this moment, you thought. Abruptly, you had a really… Devious plan to wake him up.

Jing Yuan really just needed to rinse the shampoo away and he'd be done. But instead of using the warm water, just use the icy cold water to wake him up. And perhaps instead of using the shower, why not just pour a bucket full of it? That's exactly what you did.

Sure, it's quite literally deceitful, but at least it gets the job done. It's hard to wake up this big general, so a bucket of cold water could do.

You took a small bucket lying around the bathroom and filled it up with cold water. Little did you know, Jing Yuan was already awake when you were done with his hair.

You swear you didn't feel the water vibrations changing, but somehow, he's already in your shoulder while you were still not done filling the bucket.

"Mmnh… What are you doing my Qīn qīn? Not trying to splash me with the cold water aren't you?"

Drat. How did he even—

"No-no… O-ofcourse not.."

"Then what is it for, hm?"

"I…" You decided to give up from the act. Goddamnit, you were so close!

"you know what? yes, I was, now.. have a taste—!" You splashed the water into his face. Yet, no response. Not even a reaction, single flinch, nothing… Literally unfazed.

"Mhm, it takes more than that to even make me flinch, baobei dear."

Sunday

✦ 01 Asking to bath with Sunday isn't really that hard... But he would reassure you if you want to do it, it's a very intimate action to bathe with one another.

✦ 02 But bathing with Sunday is like bathing with an angel in a cloud

✦ 03 He'd be so soft, delicate. As if scared to even hurt you, make a wrong move.

✦ 04 Though, as delicate as he can be, he expects you to do the same.

✦ 05 He would let you wash his wings, but be gentle with them!

✦ 06 Once again, his touch is so gentle. Like imagine him washing your face with his thumbs just circling your cheeks

"Dear, turn your head downwards for me please?" He asked. Your boyfriend, Sunday, couldn't have been more gentler. He's washing your hair and your whole body with firm yet gentle strokes. You did as he asked and turned your head downwards. "Good girl/boy..." and thus felt the warm water wash away all the foam that covered your entire frame.

"Mm... Shouldn't I be the one praising you, angel?" He let out a silent chuckle "And who's being the obedient one here, hm?" It was a somewhat convenient playful banter between the two of you. Convincing the other that they're better.

Once you're done, Sunday gave one last splash of water to your hair and scrub off any remaining shampoo or soap that still be sticking around. "There, all done." He gave a wet kiss on the forehead. Which you unintentionally let out a giggle. "Hey this isn't fair, can't I bathe you too?" You note, it was true, all this time who's getting the royalty treatment is just you. "Do you want to? If so you could do that.."

An unanticipated idea came up from your oh so brilliant head "How about I wash your wings?"

"..." He hesitated just a bit. If truth be told, he was quite... Anxious to lend you his wings. Just what if you accidentally pulled one of the feathers? "How about my.. body, dear? My hair?" He recommended

"I mean— sure.. but can I wash your wings? Pleasee?" You insisted and pleaded. You even crawled your way to his chest, he felt compelled to kiss that face of yours and hug you tight. Just how can he reject you? "Fine, fine... But be extremely gentle." He sighed.

You started on with his right wing. Once you've held it, the wing flinches by accident. You poured the soap into your hand and started caressing the tip of his wing, cleaning all the dirt or dust that was there. "Does this hurt, sunday?" Through which he denies "no, absolutely not, darling. You're doing great" and purred as you do his wings

As you did the other wing, he kept purring like a pigeon being petted. Perhaps it was to imply that he was very enjoying this.

"Enjoying this much, love?"

"Very" he cood "oh, and thank you, I love you darling.." you giggled in response as you rinse both of his wings "I love you too."

✧ XTRA : i fking gentlemenfied sunday dawg :sob: also this was vv rushed, thats why it keeps getting shorter from aven to sunday (Aven is 430 words n sunday is 400 words) but oddly enough jy is 560 words💀 cringed so bad in jy's part tho like i speedrun that shit & gonna write guitarist bf kazuha after this

[fungateshortcakes]

The Best There Is (according to Laura)

I had two old man Logan x reader fics in my drafts but decided to connect them because it made more sense to me. This old man being domestic just does it for me Ughh

Pairing: oldman!Logan x fem!reader

Summary: Parenting comes with challenges Logan never thought he would have to face in his old age; like school drop offs, nosy teachers and career day disasters

Wordcount: 2.8k

Warnings/tags: english is not my first language, age-gap, established relationship, Logan 2017 ending never happened, domestic fluff, violence mentioned, Prisoners 2013 reference, it's just cute old man dad Logan please let me have this, !!!not proofread!!!

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Laura hated school. She had never gone to school before and she was fine, but after Logan and you had taken her under your wing, you put her in a school for her 'education'.

The only thing she needed to be educated in was survival. She hated sitting in a chair for hours, trying to keep still so she wouldn't get scolded. She hated the dumb questions teachers asked, their dumb faces while they got frustrated that the class didn't understand. And She hated math.

But most of all?

She hated that Logan had to pick her up every damn day. Not because of Logan himself or because she wanted to prove that she could walk home on her own, but because every time Logan stepped foot into the classroom to get her-

that one teacher wouldn’t leave him alone.

Her name was Miss Dover. She was pretty, blonde, and always smiling way too much when Logan arrived. She touched his arm, she laughed at things he didn’t mean to be funny.

And Laura?

Laura wanted to throw her backpack at her face. Or get her claws out, but Logan didn’t allow her

Logan already regretted agreeing to pick Laura up every day after the first time he had done so. Of course not because of Laura, but because of Miss Dover. Today was no different. The second he stepped onto the school grounds, surrounded by students who reminded him of the old times in the mansion, there she was.

“Mr. Howlett!” she called out to him in a too friendly manner, flipping her hair over her shoulder to show off. “Right on time, as always.” she smiled and to Logan, it looked like it hurt. He sighed. Here we go.

He only grunted in response, crossing his arms. Don’t engage. Keep it short. Get out.

Miss Dover, of course, ignored all of that. And she was in no way repelled because of Logans clear lack of interest in her. “You know” she started, biting her lip as she looked up at him, “I think it’s so sweet that you take the time to pick Laura up every day. A lot of dads just send a babysitter. I find that very admirable and...amazing”

Logan barely kept himself from rolling his eyes. “Well, she’s my kid.” he deadpanned. He was supposed to pick her up from school, so he did. It was the bare minimum, no need to make a fuss over something that was so self-evident.

Miss Dover beamed at him even after his discouraging answer. “That’s wonderful! A family man.” Logans eye twitched at that. He needed to get Laura and leave. Now.

Laura watched them from the steps of the school entrance, arms crossed over her chest, her pink glasses sitting on top of her head. She glanced at you, who stood beside her, smirking. Logan had begged you to come when he picked up Laura so he could prove to you how persistent and stubborn that one teacher was when it came to flirting with him.

“Should we save him?” you asked the girl beside you. For the record, you weren't jealous. Why would you be? You knew Logan loved you and didn't have eyes for anyone else, if anything, you were pretty amused by his misery. Laura shrugged at your question. “He deserves it.” you snorted a laugh, she had a point “Yeah, but we need him in one piece."

With a sigh, Laura slung her backpack over her shoulder, slipped down her sunglasses so they covered her eyes and marched towards Logan. Miss Dover was still going on about something, being awfully handsy while Logan was so obviously uncomfortable, when Laura reached them. She grabbed Logans sleeve, pulling at it. “Can we go now?” she asked Logan, paying no mind to her teacher. Miss Dovers eyes softened and she let out a coo “Aww. Looks like someone is eager to get home with Daddy” upon her words, Laura stared at her with an unreadable expression. Then, very clearly, very loudly, she said:

“He is married”

Miss Dover blinked. Logan groaned but was silently relieved. It wasn’t the way he thought Miss Dover would find out, but in the end he was glad. Laura pointed directly at you as you approached from the steps. “To her”

Miss Dovers smile dropped as she followed to where Laura pointed. You, meanwhile, finally stepped closer, grinning. “Hi” you greeted cheerfully with a wave, slipping your arm around Logans “I’m his wife” you confirmed with a nod. And judging by Miss Dovers expression, you knew she thought you didn't fit into the family, that you didn't even look like Lauras mom, that you looked way too young and you were overall not a good match in her opinion. You could tell she was about to gossip over this in the teachers lounge. But you couldn’t care less.

Logan exhaled in relief as he felt you settling beside him. Miss Dover turned red. Out of embarrassment or anger, you couldn't tell. Probably the latter. “Oh, I...I had no idea-" she stammered, averting eyecontact and taking a step back, her hand playing with the fabric of her skirt.

“Yeah” Laura said flatly. “Can we go now?”

Logan didn’t wait to answer her. He turned on his heel and walked away, practically dragging you and Laura with him. The three of you walked to his truck in silence. Logan ran a hand down his face as he threw Lauras backpack into the car. “Finally" he grunted as he sat down behind the steering wheel.

You laughed at him “She really doesn’t get the hint, huh?” you noted. Logan twisted the key, rubbing his temples while he drove out of the parking lot. “I swear, next time-”

“Next time” Laura interrupted from behind “you are sending her to pick me up”

Logan frowned, looking through the rear-view mirror at her “Why?”

Laura buckled her seatbelt “Because then she will know you are taken for real. She probably thinks this was a joke or something"

You laughed at that, leaning against Logan. “She’s right, you know. That woman looked like she wasn’t believing her ears when I said I was your wife. You said she was being persistent, I don’t think she will take this seriously” you chuckled, giving his rugged cheek a kiss. Logan sighed defeated "Yeah, yeah” he answered, putting a hand on your thigh while rounding a corner. “Maybe next time, you pick her up”

You grinned, laying your hand over his. He was a little tense. You knew why. He didn't know if you were jealous, maybe you were a little mad but didn't show it. "I'm not jealous, if you think that. Not at all"

Logan raised an eyebrow. Then he looked at you - really looked at you. At the way you fit so perfectly against him. At the way your eyes sparkled with mischief, teasing him. At the way your hand rested over his, like it belonged there. And when he turned his hand to grasp yours tightly, he was holding his heart in his palm. Yeah. You weren't jealous. Because he was yours. And you were his. And nothing was ever going to change that.

Not even when Laura stood in front of Logan a week later, her arms crossed, staring him down despite him clearly towering over her.

“You have to come”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do”

Logan sighed, rubbing his temples. They had been at this back and forth game for like 10 minutes now “Why?” he grumbled. “Because it’s career day” Laura answered flatly.

He gave her a look that said he cursed the way she was just as stubborn as him “Yeah? So?” he muttered lowly and shrugged. Laura huffed and rolled her eyes. “So” she said, already looking exhausted over the argument “everyone has to bring a parent to talk about their job”

Laura really wanted him to come. Mostly because she was always the black sheep in her class when it came to telling stories, showing emotions and just simply existing. She was different than the other kids, and after what happened to her, she had every right to be. The others picked on her more often than not and while she wanted to let her claws speak for her, Logan had strictly forbidden it. So all she could do was listen to them. It was draining. She just wanted to be normal for once.

Logan knew that, yet he scowled, picking up a can of beer from the fridge "Tell ‘em I’m dead.” he said between chugging down the bitter liquid.

You were sitting on the couch and as you heard their conversation, you couldn't help but snort.

Laura didn’t blink, unfazed “You have to come.”

Logan glared down at her, hating just how much she was like him. He was about to tell her to fuck off and go to her room, but he sighed “Kid, no one wants to hear me talk about drivin' a damn limo.”

Laura shrugged at that, turning on her heel. “Too bad.” she said. And just like that, Logan lost the argument.

And thats how Logan found himself sitting at the front of the classroom, arms crossed, scowl in full force. You stood at the back with a few other parents, your eyes fixated on him. It was fun, seeing him so annoyed. But it also warmed your heart- he sat next to Laura, sitting way taller than she was, his long legs barely fitting under the table. The two were bickering, poking each other back and forth before Laura leaned her head against his shoulder, his arm around her securely. He was it for you. Yes, you were married, but you'd marry him again in a heartbeat.

There were parents that had already gone before him. Firefighters, doctors, a lawyer. A police man sat down in his seat again after his presentation. And now it was Logans turn.

Great.

With a grunt, he stood up, slightly limping over to the blackboard. He could already feel the judgy stares of the other parents. Laura gave him a small thumbs up, and so did you.

Miss Dover, the teacher yes, that one, smiled at Logan “Alright, Mr. Howlett, why don’t you tell us what you do for a living?” she cheered.

Logan exhaled slowly.

"…I drive a limo.”

Silence.

Some of the kids blinked. A couple of parents exchanged unimpressed glances. Then one kid raised his hand. “Like… for famous people?” the young boy asked, looking a bit intimidated by Logans frown.

“Sometimes.” Logan grunted as an answer. Another kid raised her hand, bolder and more confident than her classmahe “What’s the coolest person you ever drove?”

Logan grimaced at her question, but what was he supposed to do? “A drunk guy who puked in my backseat” he replied, looking at his feet while silence spread through the room again. Miss Dover cleared her throat, the tension in the air was awkward “Oh! well, uhm..does your job have any…exciting parts?” she stuttered out, the eyes of the other parents resting on her as if to ask: why the hell did you allow him to come?

Logan stared at her, the question heavy in the room. Did she really want him to tell a bunch of ten year olds about the times he got into fistfights and gun battles with passengers?

“…Not really” he muttered.

From the back, you smiled. You knew exactly what was happening. Logan wasn’t embarrassed about his job, nor did he care about what these people thought. But he cared about Laura. And right now? He felt bad that her dad was a limo driver while other kids got to brag about firefighters and surgeons and stuff.

Your chest ached.

Because he didn’t get it. Laura didn’t care about any of that, she just wanted her dad.

Miss Dover clapped her hands, her cheeks red in slight embarrassement. “Well, let’s open the floor for more questions!” she welcomed the classroom.

Big mistake.

A mom from the third row, blonde, red lipstick, way too interested, raised her hand “So, Mr. Howlett” she started, smiling too much, “do you work long hours?” she nearly purred. Logan tensed a little, rubbing his beard “…I guess.”

Another mom, brunette, twirling her curls around her fingers in a flirty manner, leaned forward. “Must be tough coming home late all the time. Bet it gets lonely.”

You bit your lip, amused, but also a little sorry for the kids that had to witness their moms shamelessly thirst over another kids dad. Laura rolled her eyes and Logan scowled “I’m not lonely.”

The blonde mom giggled, biting her bottom lip “Yeah, I bet with me you wouldn't be” she purred. Jesus, what as up with these women??

Logans jaw clenched in annoyance. He didn't understand how these women could just full on flirt with him while their children were there. Besides that, he, Laura and you had arrived later than everyone else and he had kissed you before sitting down, surely they noticed that? Apparently not, not even the obvious ring on his finger seemed to catch their attention.

You, meanwhile, just waited. Because any second now-

“He’s married.” Laura deadpanned, her arms crossed, saving him yet again.

The brunette mom blinked “Oh” she mumbed, her face burning red. The blonde mom hesitated. "really..?”

Logan, already done with everything, just pointed at you in the back of the room. Every head turned and in any other situation, this would have you highly uncomfortable. But you just grinned. “Hi Ladies” you greeted them. You walked forward to the blackboard, smiling at the way their jealous stares bore into the back of your head. You could tell the women were fuming over the fact that you bagged such a handsome man, but Logan knew only you could truly appreciate him. "We should try and advertise our marriage" you giggled.

Logan grumbled, wrapping an arm around your waist protectively. You smirked up at him, fixing his loose tie “Maybe you should start to wear a sign.” you teased him even more. He rolled his eyes at you “Shut up" he mumbled, but his grip on you tightened. Because you were his. And he wanted to show that.

You didn't even wait for the other parents to have their turn at presenting their jobs. You just took Laura and went out of there, walking back to Logans truck. “That was hell.” he sighed, letting himself fall behind the wheel with a grunt.

You laughed as you closed your door from the passenger seat, slipping your hand into his “You survived"

“Barely.”

Laura climbed into the truck behind you two, buckling her seatbelt “Next time, I’m bringing her” she said, pointing at you. Logan frowned at that, the engine purring to life “What, so she can brag about…what? Painting? Making fun of me?” he grinned smugly, making you want to wipe that smirk off his face.

You returned the grin “I could have given them a whole presentation on how sexy my husband is.” you hummed, leaning in close to his face, your noses touching. Logan chuckled, the sound rich in his chest "Oh, yeah?” he muttered gravelly, leaning in to give you a deep, wet, noisy kiss.

Laura made a gagging noise.

You pulled back with a laugh and Logan turned towards the road as he started driving, a satisfied smile on his lips. You glanced at Laura in the backseat. “So?” you asked. “Were you embarrassed?

She blinked at your question, her brows furrowed, making her look so much like Logan “What?”

You gestured toward Logan next to you, then looked back at her “That your dad is a limo driver.” you stated simply, matter of factly. Lauras frown deepened, like the question itself was stupid. “No.” she said flatly.

Logan glanced at her through the rear view mirror, his brow cocked. "That right?” he asked her, feeling a soft smile creeping onto his lips. She shrugged, looking out the window. “You pick me up every day. You don’t talk too much. You don’t smell weird. You’re fine.”

Your heart swelled and you aww'ed at the two. "Great review, kid.” Logan huffed, but you knew he was feeling proud inside. Laura pulled a juice box from her bag and for a moment, the car was silent.

“Better than the other dads.”

Logan swore his heart just did a giddy flip “Yeah?” he asked, as if he had just heard her wrong. Your expression was soft as you looked at him, your hands curling around his.

Laura nodded wordlessly. And just like that, Logan realized it didn’t matter what he did for work, what he had done in the past. It didn’t define him entirely. Because Laura?

Laura was just happy he was her dad.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

idk how these career days work, I am not american and never had one, I don’t even know if they are that popular im sorry😭

I still have a few unfinished requests in store, i am so sorry everything is taking so long. But, next post will be a very long smut, so be ready😌

[stevieschrodinger]

Link to Part Two

Part One

Eddie stares down at the plastic doodad. It proudly declares the word ‘pregnant’ on the little screen, cheerily oblivious to the fact that it's just ruined Eddie’s whole fucking life. It’s a word as well, the actual fucking word, ‘pregnant’ shown oh so confidently on the little screen. Eddie’s done a test before, one time when he had a scare as a teenager, that had been the sort that showed one line or two.

One lines for not, two for...are. Two would have looked like prison bars, which would have been ironic given being saddled with a pup is probably pretty equivalent to 25 to life.

Anyway. Eddie shakes it. Looks again. Throws the fucking thing in the bin.

Well fuck.

Eddie contemplates, very very briefly, getting rid of it. His mind and body recoil from that thought the same way it would from, like, rotted tuna. Or someone else's puke. Or like...salad.

Eddie’s Omega’s got a lot of needs and no Alpha willing to fill them. Eddie gets by, fobbing his Omega off with with a couple of short term friends with benefits arrangements and the odd one night stand. Mostly his Omega can’t tell the difference between having an Alpha and having any Alpha, so he makes do. It scratches the itch.

Unfortunately, that means this pup could have been fathered by any one of three dudes, and Eddie doesn’t have a fucking clue which of them it would be. Eddie would really rather not it be Alpha A, Alpha B is a piece of work with a big dick, and what's behind door number three would be potentially catastrophic.

Anyway. Eddie makes a decision at two am in his apartment bathroom, and it starts with two text messages, an email, and a phone call.

“Thanks for doing this so on the spur man,” Eddie tells his landlord as he hands over the keys. Ex landlord. It was only a room in a shared place. Had to share the bathroom on this floor with two other dudes, but, meh. It had been perfect for what Eddie needed, and more importantly, within Eddie’s budget.

His whole life is sitting in the back of his van, barely filling a third of the back. Which is ideal really, made clearing out quick and easy and Eddie’s uncertain about weather or not he should be doing any heavy lifting right now.

He makes three stop offs before he leaves for good, shifting the very last of his product at discount prices. He mournfully throws in his last two boxes of cigs with the last deal; going cold turkey is going to be the opposite of fun, but Eddie’s in it to win it, and he’s going to try his best as of right now.

Wayne already has the door open when Eddie hops out of his van, beer in hand, eyebrow raised, “heya old man.”

When Wayne sees Eddie dragging bags out, he lifts the brim of his cap, puts it back again, and heads inside. Eddie sees him move a couple of things out of Eddie’s old room, and although it’s empty and the bed is stripped to nothing, it’s untouched, “how long you back for?” Wayne asks him, offering a beer.

Eddie looks at the offered bottle, dripping condensation, and very pointedly doesn’t take it “so, about that.”

There’s a long drawn out moment, and Eddie’s sees the realization dawn, “oh Ed.”

“You like kids!”

Wayne sighs, pulls Eddie into a hug, “I just hope they sleep better’n you did. Don’t think I can go through that again.”

Eddie snorts a laugh into Wayne’s shoulder, all relieved. He hadn't doubted for a second that Wayne would back his play, Wayne's always been unshakably team Eddie, but to hear it said in no uncertain terms is still a huge weight lifted.

Eddie’s got a slightest curve of a bump, small enough that it’s not nearly noticeable yet, especially with Eddie’s usual wardrobe. To go along with his bump, he’s got a scan booked at the Omega Health place, an insatiable craving for garlic mushrooms, and a job.

An actual honest job. Alright, a temp job, because he’s pregnant and no one in their right mind is going to hire a pregnant Omega for a full time permanent gig. So he is, conveniently enough, covering maternity leave for a beta girl at the record store. But that doesn’t matter right now, the moons aligned, and Eddie jumped at the opportunity. He’s going to have a secure pay check for the next seven or so months, and right this second, that’s what counts.

He can’t drink. He can’t smoke. He can’t do drugs and he’s most certainly not going to party. Eddie does the next best thing he can think of; he goes to the library. This is his reward now, his fun, his safe space; he’s going to reward himself with a good book. A good free book.

Turns out registering himself for a library card is a ten minute thing, and then he’s done, bit of plastic in hand, he wonders the shelves looking for the fantasy section. He rounds the corner into the main room only to find a dude reading and signing along to a bunch of little kids. He has the book propped up on a thing to keep his hands free and the pages open so the kids can see.

He’s encouraging them to sign along with a bunch of the words.

He has good hair...like, really good hair. There’s something familiar about the guy that Eddie can't place...until he does.

Holy fucking shit. That’s King Steve.

And he’s in a library...wearing fucking gold rimmed spectacles and a sweater vest.

And he’s hot. He’s still hot. He laughs at something and leans forward to help a toddler with the placement of her chubby little fingers and Eddie’s ovaries fucking explode.

He walks away. For self preservation he walks away. He forgets what he just saw because there was no way it was real. He’s been going through a dry spell, hasn’t got laid since he moved back to Hawkins and now he’s seeing mirages of his high school crush, that’s all.

That’s all it can be.

Until Eddie goes to the fancy scanner machine to check out his little pile of four paperback fantasy books and a deep Alpha voice is asking if he needs anything and he’s, like, right there. And he smells of library and Alpha and whatever nice thing he washes his fucking sweater vests in.

Jesus.

“No,” Eddie squeaks, “I’m okay.”

“Eddie?” Steve frowns at him, tilting his read and looking over the top of his glasses in a way that should be fucking criminal, “Eddie Munson right? I thought you moved away?”

“I have. Did. I mean, I did do that. Previously. Back now. Clearly.” Shut up shut up shut up and Steve can probably smell his embarrassment because he’s standing closely enough to clearly scent Eddie and Steve’s senses must be absolutely pinpoint because his eyes drop to Eddie’s stomach, then spring up to his neck. He frowns, like, the tiniest bit.

Eddie’s pregnant, and unmated, and Steve’s clocked that in about four seconds flat which, great. Humiliation complete.

But Steve’s face clears as quick as it had clouded, the whole thing passing so fast Eddie’s now not even sure he saw it, “so it’d been cool to catch up, you wanna wait a minute, I’m just about to have lunch?”

“Errr…I mean. I wouldn't want to impose or anything-”

“Steve!” And holy shit, if Steve is the ghost of Christmas past or some shit, the second ghost just rocked up in the form of Robin fucking Buckley of all people. Eddie doesn't even understand why they’re even friends, Steve was a topnotch jock and a total fucking dickwad, and Buckley was a band nerd.

This makes less sense than Steve’s sweater vest.

“Yeah, come on Eddie, lets go sit outside,” Eddie gets tugged along in their wake, somehow, and ends up sitting on a bench outside in the sun.

Robin had a bag of take out in her hand which she gives to Steve, and he takes out a carton of something that instantly makes Eddie’s mouth water, Eddie looks back up in time to catch Steve widening his eyes at Robin, tilting his head off to the side sharply in silent gesture for her to fuck off over there. She signs something, real quick. Steve nods.

Eddie doesn’t know a single lick of sign language, but he's pretty sure that even if he did, what happened was so fast he would have missed it anyway, “so, Eddie, great to see you, but I, shit, pretty sure I’ve left the...stove on.”

Eddie frowns at the take out and back to Robin but before he can point out what a steaming pile of bullshit that is, she’s already power walking off and shouting, “byyyyeeeeeeeeeeeee.”

“I, ah, got garlic mushrooms and broccoli and some stirfry-”

It’s too late for Eddie. He’s done. Stick a fork in him. He has no idea what’s happening here but he zones in on the garlic mushroom part of that like a heat seeking missile. A secondary part of his brain is screaming loudly that the Alpha has provided, the Alpha wants to share his food with Eddie. Alpha Alpha Alpha.

Eddie takes the container and the bamboo spork thing Steve hands him, “sorry, I never get chopsticks, no fucking clue how to use them.”

“I can show you,” Eddie says, without thinking it through or registering the implication or stopping to swallow, which means he just spoke with his mouth full of food.

“I’d like that,” Steve tells him, “when can I take you out for dinner?”

Which, Eddie’s brain does stall out there. Because. Well. Lots of things. But he was pretty certain Steve had clocked his specific circumstances earlier, but now he’s not so sure, “I’m pupped,” his mouth supplies without his permission, so he shoves a whole thing of broccoli in there to try and stop it happening again.

Steve hums, eating his beef thing very neatly, “no bite though,” he points out, and Eddie makes an agreeable noise, “maybe we can fix that,” Eddie nearly chokes.

[daddy-dotcom]

Bet on Me

Spencer Reid x Sugarbaby Reader

Spencer Reid never loses, especially when the prize is you.

Summary: Reader is a sugar baby for Reid's opponent, and he bets a night with her if he loses to Reid.

Warnings: Smut, unprotected p in v, bj, swearing ig?

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

This wasn't the first time he'd done this. Granted, the Boss only did it when he was losing a lot of money and needed to sacrifice his "lucky charm." However, this was the first time he bet me and lost, to a man half his age nonetheless. I never liked being used as a gambling chip, but he lost so rarely that I didn't dwell on it too much. The man he was playing only gave us his first name, Spencer, and damn was he good. If I didn't know any better, I would say he was counting the cards. He was slightly cocky, but not in the way that the Boss's usual opponents were. He knew he was good, but he wasn't arrogant. There was an air of confidence to him, almost as if he was guaranteed to win, which was exactly what he did. I'd never seen the Boss this upset before, practically throwing a tantrum on the casino floor. But Spencer won fair and square, more specifically, he had won me. 

Under normal circumstances, he would have bet on me as a last resort against some other equally sleazy old man. He would have won and I wouldn't have to worry about the idea of sleeping with a man who I didn't know and who had zero respect for boundaries. While the Boss wasn't exactly in his prime anymore, at least he paid me well and we had strict boundaries in place. But whenever he bet on me, I had no idea what I would be getting into. Something about Spencer being young immediately eased my nerves, especially since he was so lanky and boyish. He was probably close to my age, but you would never be able to tell because he looked like he was barely old enough to be gambling. 

"Just go on and get it over with, doll, I'll pick you up in the morning," the Boss said irritably. 

I made my way over to Spencer, who was the only one left sitting at the poker table. He sat quite awkwardly for a man who had just swept the entire table. All of the confidence from before had completely melted away. 

"Well it looks like I'm yours for the night, Spencer. I'm (Y/N) by the way." 

I leaned against the poker table, making sure to show off my best assets. If I was going to have to spend the night with him, I at least wanted to have some fun. Between my day job and being a part-time sugar baby, I didn't have the time or energy to date much. So I planned on taking full advantage of the situation. Even if I didn't end up sleeping with Spencer, there was something about him that made me want to get to know him. 

"Nice to meet you, (Y/N)" he said, and I could tell he was avoiding my gaze. This was most likely because from where he was sitting, his line of sight was directly at my boobs. 

"C'mon Spencer, let me buy you a drink."

"Shouldn't I be the one buying you a drink?" he asked, looking puzzled. 

"Looks like you need it more than I do, pretty boy." I said with a smile as I pulled him by the hand towards the bar. 

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

"I'm not a hooker by the way. Just putting that out there . . ." I said, suddenly matching Spencer's awkwardness. 

"I figured as much," he replied before taking a sip of his drink. "You're very well dressed and your jewelry is definitely real. Which could mean you're a high-end prostitute, which isn't uncommon for Vegas, but your relationship is too close for him to just be a repeat customer. So I assumed you were either a sugar baby or a trophy wife." 

"Wow. You got all that just by watching us?"

"It's kind of my job." 

"You a PI or something? What kind of job allows you to pick up on all that Mr...?" 

"Reid. And it's Dr. Reid actually. I work in the behavioral analysis unit of the FBI."

"No kidding! You? The lanky yet mysterious card counter who hasn't looked me in the eye this entire conversation, works for the FBI?"

“Yes and for the record, I wasn’t counting the cards. . .at least not this time,” he said with the slightest hint of a smirk on his lips. 

Feeling a little tipsy, I replied by saying "you know, around here that acronym FBI usually stands for Female-"

"Body Inspector, yes I'm familiar with the joke. I grew up getting my head dunked in the toilet by bullies wearing those cheap souvenir shirts from Circus Circus" 

"Ah so you're a local too?"

“Yes ma’m, Las Vegas born and raised,” he said before taking another sip of his drink. I took the opportunity to ask him another question. 

“So do you have me figured out yet, pretty boy?” 

“Well I don’t see a ring on your finger,” he said while finally looking me right in the eyes, “so that leads me to the conclusion that you are a sugar baby.” 

I could tell the effects of the alcohol were starting to creep to the surface because he wouldn’t break eye contact with me and his body began leaning towards me when he spoke instead of away. He was less guarded and almost flirtatious, in his own adorable way. 

“Ding ding ding, you got me Dr. Reid. I, uh, work as a lab assistant during the day but being his sugar baby is helping with the crushing weight of my student debt.” 

“I’m sorry that you have to spend your evenings with that jerk, (Y/N). That was mostly my motivation for accepting his offer to bet on you. I hope you know I wasn’t planning on taking advantage of you or anything, I just wanted to give you a night off from your boss.” 

My gaze softened and I tried to push away the tears that threatened to spill from the corners of my eyes. 

“That was the sweetest thing anyone’s done for me in a long time, Spencer. Thank you,” I said, gently placing a hand on his thigh. 

I saw a wave of crimson begin to appear on his cheeks and he flashed me a smile before saying, “It was my pleasure. I don’t mean to brag but I have an eidetic memory and an IQ of 187, all of this to say I’m pretty good at cards.”

“Wow! Handsome and smart? Guess you’re not the only one who hit the jackpot tonight,” I said while raising my eyebrows, “but I don’t see a ring on your finger either, Dr. Reid. You’re alone at a bar in Vegas with a pretty girl, so I’m assuming you don’t have anyone waiting for you back home?” I asked, suddenly very interested to know if this smart and adorably sweet man was single.

“So you’ve been profiling me too,” he said with a chuckle, “to answer your question, no I don’t have a wife or a girlfriend or anything like that,” he said, almost enthusiastically. Taking that as a sign, I quickly asked, 

“Would you want to come upstairs with me? I just feel so comfortable talking to you and technically you still have the rest of the night with me,” I said with pleading eyes. 

“Um . . .sure!” he said with both hesitation and excitement, which I’m assuming is because his desire is going against his better judgment as an FBI agent. 

“You agreed to that awfully fast for someone who works for the FBI.” 

“I’m not worried. I’ve been watching my drink the entire night, and I’ve been profiling you, remember?” 

At this point, we were both beaming at each other like a couple of idiots; I had to stop myself from yanking this man’s arm making a run for the elevator. 

———

"It's nice to be with a guy who doesn't have an AARP card for once." 

"Actually, it’s a common misconception that the service is limited to people 50 and over. You can apply for a membership once you turn 18," he rambled, causing me to giggle. 

"You're cute," I replied, placing a hand on the inner part of his thigh. We stayed there for a moment, our eyes fixed on one another with a blush creeping up on Spencer's cheeks. I could see his Adam's apple bob as he gulped, and I could almost swear the crotch of his pants looked tighter than before. 

"W-we don't have to do anything you know," he said, finally breaking the silence. 

"I know. . . " I said as I leaned in close, "but what if I want to?" 

I took a chance and pressed my lips to his. I let them linger there to gauge his reaction before going any further, not wanting to scare the poor man away. After a few seconds, he didn't pull away and I took the quickened pace of his breathing as a sign to kiss him more. I began slowly at first and his lips followed my lead. To my surprise, he brought his hand up to tangle his fingers in my hair and I moaned into his mouth at the contact. Our kisses quickly became hungry and passionate, and there was no denying the now obvious bulge in his pants. I moved my hand from his thigh and began rubbing him over his pants. This time, he was the one who let out a groan, the sound of which motivated me to force my tongue into his mouth. He tightened his grip on my hair, but I pulled away to tend to his growing erection. He remained seated on the edge of the bed as I dropped to my knees in front of him. 

"Y-you don't have to-" he stuttered with wide eyes. 

"Spencer, it's okay, I want to." 

He didn't protest further and I began to unbuckle his belt. I unzipped his pants and pulled down his underwear just enough to let his cock free. I wrapped my hand around the base and began to jerk him, causing him to hiss at the contact. I teased him a little by licking the tip of his dick before I placed his entire length, or as much of him as I could fit, in my mouth. 

"Oh my god” he groaned, with his eyes screwed shut. I continued to bob my head up and down his cock, his hand finding that familiar place in my hair where he began to tug again. My. pace was purposefully slow, dragging out each suck to earn a moan from Spencer. It was thrilling to be in control of the situation for once. As I sped up my motions, his hands were practically ripping the strands from my head. The wetness pooling between my legs was becoming too much to ignore, so I released my grip on Spencer's cock and used his thighs to push myself back up from my spot on the floor. 

"Spencer. . ." I whined, planting myself onto his lap, "I need you."

I took his hand and guided him to the heat between my legs. I shimmied up my dress to allow him to feel the wetness that now soaked my panties. We both let out a gasp as his fingers became slick at the touch. 

"It's been a while since anyone's made me feel like this," I admitted. I felt safe in his presence, especially since judging by his reactions, he doesn't do this very often either. 

“I-I don’t have a-," 

“Don’t worry, I’m 90% sure we’re both clean and I’m on the pill. Trust me I’m not trying to scam you for child support or anything.” 

I could feel his body relax underneath me after reassuring him. I pressed my lips to his once again, our kiss more sensual and intimate than before. Seizing the rare opportunity to be on top, I had one hand on his shoulder for support and the other on his dick to line him up with my entrance. It was almost dizzying how good it felt as I finally sank down onto his length. 

“Oh god, Spencer.” 

I buried my face into the crook of his neck, completely overwhelmed by the few of him stretching me out. Once I was comfortable, I slowly began rocking my hips. We were a mess of breathy moans and strings of profanities escaped my lips as I began bouncing on his cock. 

“Fuck Spence, you you’re so big.” 

It’s always the skinny, shy guys.

“(Y/N) you feel so good,” he grunted as he bucked his hips up in an attempt to fuck me even harder. After observing his reactions to my every move so far, I knew he wasn’t going to last long. But he was fucking me so good that I couldn’t bring myself to care. 

“Yes baby keep fucking me like that.” 

His hips continued with their relentless pace and our bodies slammed against each other again and again. It wasn’t much longer until his thrusts became sloppy and he finished inside of me with one last resounding groan. We stayed that way for a while, just grateful for the intimate connection. Once we finally caught our breath, I spoke up.

“Well you still have a few hours with me Dr. Reid, what do you propose we do?” I said with a smirk.

“We should probably go to bed, I have to catch my flight back to D.C. in the morning. . . but maybe after we do that again.” 

“I’m all yours Spencer.” 

————————————————————————

Not 100% confident about this one but lmk what y'all think :) thanks fro all the love so far besties

[pitchsidestories]

my kink is karma II Alexia Putellas x Reader

a/n: Hi, we hope you've as much fun with the oneshot as we had writing it.

masterlist I word count: 1695

Champions League nights were always magical, no matter who the opponent was. But a Champions League final against record champion Olympique Lyonnais promised an even more special night.

After Barcelonas loss against the same team in the final two years prior, they had something to prove. So of course, the atmosphere among the team was a mixture between excitement and nervousness.

You could feel your heart pounding in your chest right before the game started. You hugged your teammates and wished them a good game, partly to calm their anxiety and partly to calm your own.

“What about me?”, Alexias voice sounded from behind you.

As you turned around, she stood there, her arms wide open with a winning smile on her face.

You looked her up and down before jokingly saying: “You? Well…”

“Well?!”, she echoed, playing offended.

You winked at her: “A goal from you later would be perfect, you know why.”

You could still feel Alexias eyes following you as you took your position on the pitch.

While the referee blew her whistle, signaling the start of the game, the bench was still busy discussing what just had happened.

“What did she mean, Ale?”, Vicky asked, barely able to contain her curiosity.

Alexia shrugged: “Nothing.”

The young striker wrinkled her nose: “I don’t believe you.”

“Focus on the game, kiddo.”, Alexia laughed, nodding in the direction of the pitch.

“I’m not a kid, you’re just old.”, Vicky retorted with a grin.

Mapi joined the conversation with an innocent look on her face: “She’s not wrong about that, Ale.”

“I’ll show you guys old!”, Alexia rolled her eyes with fondness.

Ona grinned at her: “Y/n wants a goal from you!”

“From the bench?”, Mapi asked, her eyebrows raised.

“No, when she’s coming on.”, Ona explained.

“More like if she’s coming on.”, Mapi corrected her.

While the two defenders giggled, Alexia just shook her head: “Of course I’m coming on!”

You realized quickly that the game would not be an easy win. Lyon had their chances but so did Barcelona. For almost an hour, it was an even match but you could feel that your team wanted it more. And then Aitana scored.

“Well done, Tana!”, you yelled as you ran towards her to celebrate.

She hugged you tightly: “Thanks!”

From this moment on, your priority was to defend the lead and try to put your strikers into goal scoring situations.

In the ninetieth minute, Alexia came on. Your heart skipped a beat while she joined you on the pitch. But you also felt some kind of anger. There were only six minutes left to play.

Alexia made the most out of it. 120 seconds after coming on, she scored the 2:0 for Barcelona.

You could barely contain your happiness as you watched your girlfriend run across the pitch while pulling her shirt over her head to celebrate.

You had to blink away some tears as you followed her and pulled her into a celebratory hug: “Ale!”

 “You got the goal you wanted after all.”, she retorted with a smug smile on her face. Despite her cocky attitude you could see that her hazelnut eyes were turning wet. The captain of your team was overtaken by her own emotions.

Everyone could see how much it meant for the midfielder to score in the final against a team to whom you both lost twice in a final.

“You deserve it so much, Ale.”, you whole-heartedly whispered into her ear, not sure if Alexia was even able to understand you as the noise in the stadium escalated.

Embracing you for one last time the Blonde had to let you go, not before muttering close to your face, giving you chills everywhere:” This one is for us.”

“Yeah, yeah, very romantic, but we still got a few minutes to play.”, Lucy interrupted the emotional moment between you two grinning before throwing the midfielder’s jersey back to Alexia who slowly put it back on.

“Lucy.”, your girlfriend rolled her eyes annoyed at the English defender.

“Let’s go.”, Lucy replied unimpressed.

“Don’t worry, we’ll celebrate that goal later.”, you promised Alexia winking.

“I can’t wait.”, she replied.

“Hey! Enough now!”, the older English player yelled impatiently by your lovebird’s behaviour.

“You don’t understand, Lucia.”, you protested laughing.

“We’ve four minutes left.”, she said unmoved by your quite visible emotional turmoil.

“Only four more minutes.”, you repeated to yourself. In fact, they felt like the longest minutes in Champions League history. Your legs were so tired, when the referee blew the final whistle, you fell to your knees, simply from exhaustion and happiness.

Barcelona has won, a second time in a row. It was Alexia's, your teammates and your triumph against Lyon at last. This was unbelievable.

“We did it!”, Alexia rejoiced, standing right next to you.

“Yes, we did.”, you answered cheerfully, before you added with a worried glance at your girlfriend, careful, don’t trip over!”

Your warning came too late, the Barcelona captain fell ungraciously over her own boots, lucky for her she landed very softly on top of your body.

“Girls, the children are still here!”, Sandra shouted at you, although the goalkeeper couldn’t hide her amusement by what just had happened.

“Shut up, Sandra.”, Alexia demanded, her usual stern face was now full of giddiness and excitement. It felt like the young girl who became a fan of Barcelona and fell in love with the club and football had overtaken her in that very second.

“Yeah, nothing to see here.”, you giggled.

“Exactly.”, the captain confirmed, while pressing a kiss to your already blushed cheek.

“You should get up now though, the press wants interviews with you both.”, Irene intervened seriously.

“Coming.“, Alexia said, carefully lifting herself off of you.

You immediately followed suit, brushing the grass of your shirt and short before hurrying to your interview.

The young journalist thrusted a microphone towards you: “Y/n, what does the CL win mean to you?“

“It means so much to me. I know people questioned whether we would be able to keep up with last years performance. But I think we proved that here tonight.“, you said. Your gaze subconsciously shifting towards Alexia who was interviewed on the other side of the stadium.

“You certainly did. Thanks for taking the time and have fun celebrating.“

You grinned at the journalist: “Gracias.“

Turning away from the camera, you were greeted by Alexia: “Done?“

“Yes, what about you?“, you asked, hoping that she was done with her media duties for the night as well.

“Me too.“

Alexia took your hand into hers, gently pulling you away from the cameras and the bustle on the field.

“Wait, where are you taking me?“, you laughed while you followed her.

“Somewhere more private.“, Alexia smiled.

You grinned: “Sounds like a good idea.“

“Come on.“

“I’m right behind you.“, you assured her while Alexia opened the door to your hotel room and pulled you in.

“So here we’re.“, you said, patiently waiting for her to make a move.

She nodded, her shoulders slumping in relaxation: “Finally.“

You wrapped your arms around her: “Oh yes, tonight was unbelievable…“

“You were unbelievable.“, she corrected you softly.

“So where you. After everything that happened in the past year.“ You were absolutely in awe about how much your girlfriend had fought to come back after her ACL injury, the setbacks she had injury-wise and with the conditions of the Spanish national team and how she dealt with the little game time she got.

People had started to doubt that she would ever come back as the World’s best football player but you knew, it was only a matter of time.

Apparently, Alexia felt a similar way. All the hard work she put in was finally worth it. She blinked the wetness in her eyes away: “Thank you. It means so much to me to have scored this goal tonight…“

“I can only imagine.“

Alexias hand come down on your thigh, right above your left knee. The bright red of the injury from the Champions League final two years ago had faded and only left a scar.

You both knew the injury was something that had bothered you for a long time. Alexia did not have to say a word, you knew what she meant but you only shook your head: “That was nothing compared to Ona tonight… that moment was really scary.“

“Ona’s tough.”, your girlfriend remarked softly.

“That’s true. Plus, she’s in good hands with Lucy.”, you were smiling fondly as you were thinking about your teammates who’s love for each other was so visible after the win.

“You don’t have to worry about it.”, Alexia declared earnestly.

“I don’t.”, you cleared your throat before you continued, close your eyes, what do you see?”

For a moment the Blonde gave you a questioning look, afterwards she dd as you told her. A huge grin was forming on her lips:” Us celebrating.”

“A very iconic moment.”, you answered mirroring her happiness while you were slowly undressing yourself.

“Oh, not this one. The next one.”, Alexia quickly corrected herself.

“The next one?”, you lifted an eyebrow which she couldn’t see, but your voice transported your surprise.

“Next year.”, the midfielder confirmed.

“What about now? You can open your eyes again.”, you offered her trying to sound nonchalantly and hide the excitement which you felt running through your veins right now.

“Now, I see you.”, Alexia swallowed hard while her eyes who appeared dark green under the light of the bedside lamp wandered through your almost entirely naked body.

“Liking what you see?”, you asked her in a cheeky tone knowing fully well what your girlfriend was feeling when she looked at you.

“You look so beautiful right now.”, the player replied, licking her lips as she bridged the distance between you both to gave you a passionate kiss. When her kink was karma, triumph never tasted as good as with you by her side.

It was going to be a long night and you couldn’t wait to get started with your own private celebration. The public could wait until tomorrow, now was your time to enjoy the win.

[reverie-starlight]

{the proposal- kuroo}

on today’s episode of “rev accidentally disregards the polls she made”, we have this fic :3 I actually adore this one, it was so fun to write!! hope you enjoy <3 also… thank you sm for 1k followers 😭🫶🏻 that’s huge, I appreciate everyone sm 🥹

gn!reader, no physical descriptions. fluff fluff fluff. alcohol mentions, drunk reader. dialogue heavy at the start.

“You need to propose to me.”

Kuroo, who is enjoying his drink, begins to choke. “I what?”

You roll your eyes with a barely concealed smile.

“Not for real, silly, just a fake one.”

He looks at you like you’ve gone insane. “I’m not following.”

“We’re broke university students, do you really think we can afford to pay for more than two drinks tonight? If you propose, I bet people would make a drunken mistake and offer to buy us a celebration round.” You wiggle your eyebrows at him as he continues to give you that same incredulous look.

“That’s-“ he cuts himself off before he can finish that thought and starts with a new one. “I doubt that would work. I mean, maybe at a restaurant with free dessert, but a bar? Really?”

“I’ve seen it done in stranger places!” You defend yourself. “Besides, you’ve been sipping on your drink for the past 25 minutes. If the ice had poison in it, you’d be dead by now,” you lean back and cross your arms.

Your boyfriend just shakes his head. “Your mind is a very interesting place. Alright, fine. We’ll do it, but if it doesn’t work that’s going to be really embarrassing. Hand me your ring, I’ll do it when more people are around.”

You only have to wait another ten minutes before a group of business men having a meeting a couple of tables over appear to be drunk enough to invest in young love.

Your boyfriend nods once to signal that he’s going to do it and soon enough he’s on one knee, fake tears forming at the corners of his eyes and a dusting of pink on his cheeks that make you want to kiss them.

(Your heart jumps that the thought that he could do this for real one day).

“You’re the love of my life,” he begins, and you make a mental note that he either has a bright future in acting or his drink really is too strong, despite his insistence that he could handle it earlier.

A lady one table over gasps and draws more attention to the performance in front of the customers.

“And I absolutely adore every single thing about you. I had a whole plan for this, but with the way you’re looking tonight, I can’t wait a second longer. We’ve managed to get many years together already, and I’d be honoured to spend the rest of our lives just like this. Will you marry me?”

You’re genuinely touched at his words and the sincerity in his tone almost makes you forget it’s fake.

Not wanting to make your audience wait much longer, you make a big show of nodding your head and jumping into his crouched form with a loud “yes!”

Drunken cheers are only background noise while you press against his chest. His heartbeat eliminates the chance of you focusing on anything but him.

Kuroo tips his head down to whisper, “think we pulled it off?”

You nod against him and start to get up. He looks over to see one of the drunk business men coming over to greet you.

“Congratulations on your engagement! Let us buy the happy couple some drinks!”

The man’s face is flushed and he gestures to his table. “Order whatever you’d like, it’ll be put on our tab.”

You fake surprise. “Oh my goodness, that’s very generous of you, but we could never take advantage of your kindness like that!”

Beside you, your ‘fiancé’ stifles a laugh but the man doesn’t notice. “No, I insist! You should celebrate.”

This time Kuroo takes over. “Ah… well, thank you, sir. Rest assured we won’t go too crazy.”

The man laughs and claps him on the back. “What a polite couple of kids you are! Reminds me of me and my wife,” he winks before heading back to his table, whistling some tune.

You spin around and look up at your boyfriend with a smug grin. “So what are we getting first?”

A couple of hours later, you’re both stumbling into your campus apartment, giggling and trying to shush each other despite not having any other roommates.

You somehow manage to get through your night routines and fall back into your bed soon after. You’re a far more wasted than Kuroo is (he always drinks less than you to be able to take care of you), so he tries to get you to sip on some water.

He watches you with a silly grin as you fiddle with your “engagement” ring. You’ve since slipped it back onto your index finger where it originally was this evening, but you move it back to your ring finger and fiddle with it.

“I think…” your words are slightly slurred and laced with sleep. “I mean, I know… that I don’t want my real engagement ring to be diamond.”

His grin widens so much his cheeks begin to hurt. “No? So what will it be, baby?”

You form your own smile. “I’m sure I’ll love whatever you come up with. You know me best after all.”

He forces you to take another sip of water when your words don’t get any less coherent. While you drink he thinks of the ruby ring tucked away somewhere at Kenma’s house. You’re far too good at sniffing out clues and he’s never been good at keeping secrets from you.

You’re still in university, it’s far too soon to get engaged for real- you’ve both always said you wanted to wait until you’re done with school- but he’s been saving up for that ring since high school. he’s always knows you would be the one for him.

So when the time comes he’ll be ready. With a speech much better than whatever he said tonight.

“Alright, let’s get some sleep. You’re going to have the worst hangover tomorrow, you haven’t had that much to drink in a while.”

You tug at his wrist before he can shut the lamp off. “Wait, don’t you want to celebrate our engagement?”

“Sleep, baby.”

You pout a bit. “Don’t you think we celebrated enough tonight?”

You stare at him and he sighs. “There’s plenty of time for celebrating our fake engagement some more tomorrow,” he shuts the lamp off and wrangles you down with him. “Now it’s time for sleep.”

“‘m not tired,” you mumble, obviously lying. “I could go all night.”

You settle onto your pillow and he strokes your cheek. “I know, sweetheart, you’re a fighter.”

You nod as you begin to doze off.

He notices the ring still on your finger and he smiles softly.

The hangover you’ll be sporting tomorrow will definitely have been worth it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ty for reading!!! i hope you enjoyed <3

tagging: @emmyrosee @luvring @dira333 @tetzoro

[bmbochangetales]

Another meeting Ashley was on the sidelines for. She wanted to make sure she made a good impression even if she wasn’t involved. She had just graduated college and wanted to work her way up. She had been helping pass out papers and serve the members of the board.

She even pointed out to the Board President a valuable client opportunity in his files. When suddenly he commanded the attention of the other men.

“Gentlemen, what a waste of talent you have keeping Ms. Smith in this position!”

Finally, someone saw her talent and skills. This was looking good for her. The President saw that she was good at the job and could do so much in a higher position.

“I mean look at those milkers, obviously she is going to make one of you a very happy man.”

What was happening? Her boobs suddenly tripled in size. Her once demure button down now squeezed he boobs out on display for the men. Oh fuck. They were huge. Maybe this was a test though to see if she could handle boardroom talk. She just began to remove their cups and dishes.

“Did you see they was she cleared the table too? A tray full of coffee cups and plates from breakfast and she did it in heels and a skirt! A domestic goddess waiting!”

Her skirt shrunk and become a tight miniskirt. Her sensible pumps became sexy high heels. Her hair and make up overly done for a day at the office. She continued clearing the table showing off. Making sure to touch the gentlemen and show off her assets to the company.

“And just look at those hips. My wife popped out 6 healthy kids and Ms. Smith looks even more able. Think of how many times you could knock up a young thing like her.” He gave her ass a slap for emphasis. Ashley’s hips widened as her ass bounced out. Ashley saw all the eligible men in the room. She wouldn’t have time for a career supporting one of these sexy, smart men. She would do better at home, getting knocked up, taking care of their home, making sure they don’t have to worry about a thing especially with their stressful job, that she could barely understand. She was here to serve them coffee and pastries.

“I’m sure she would bring you lunch and those lips for a good afternoons blowjob.” He gave tits a good squeeze as she refreshed his coffee. She let out a long moan but kept doing her job. She imagined being under the desk deep throating a big cock as her husband kept working. Stopping only to spray cum down her throat. Then wobbling down the hallway showing off her big pregnant belly, as she went home to make him a dinner worth of a Michelin star.

“Who is taking this fine bimbo home gentlemen?” The president asked the board. There were murmurs of negotiation as the gentlemen pulled rank and status on each other. Well the men were busy arguing, the lowly mid level manager decided to do things more forward. He grabbed Ashley and bent her over the projector table. Her moans called all the men’s attention to their lost prize as their subordinate claimed her for himself. They all looked to the president as the manager emptied his balls into Ashley who was just letting everyone know what a slut she was.

“Hostile takeover style,” the president said, “that is the kind of men we need in leadership here. The bimbo is yours. Now let’s talk promotion.”

[coraniaid]

Buffy Summers is my favorite character on Buffy and (with a couple of exceptions that I prefer to put down to bad writing) I will always find her sympathetic, but. The only reading of the second half of Season 7 that makes any sense to me at all is that we are supposed to think Buffy is doing a pretty bad job of taking care of the Potentials, and that this is why they all end up choosing to gamble on Faith's leadership instead of hers. Like, yes, obviously Empty Places is a badly written episode and the central conflict isn't motivated very well and Dawn kicking Buffy out of her own house is absurd.

But I mean ... look, let's just pick a few of Buffy's inspiring speeches at random, shall we?

From Showtime, in which Buffy 'inspires' the Potentials by ... uh, fighting a powerful vampire while reminding them all how much stronger than them she is:

"Looks good [for the Turok-Han Buffy's about to fight], doesn't it? [The Potentials] are trapped in here. Terrified [...] and there's nothing they can do but wait. That's all they've been doing for days. Waiting to be picked off. Having nightmares about monsters that can't be killed. But I don't believe in that. I always find a way. I'm the thing that monsters have nightmares about. And right now, you and me are gonna show 'em why."

Or from Potential, the very next episode, when Buffy follows that up by telling the Potentials over and over again how likely they are to die:

"You’re all going to die. But you knew that already because that’s the cool reward for being human. […] Don’t kid yourselves, you guys. This whole thing is all about death. You think you’re different because you might be the next Slayer? Death is what a Slayer breathes, what a Slayer dreams about when she sleeps. Death is what a Slayer lives. […] The odds are against us. Time is against us. And some of us will die in this battle."

And from Get It Done, speaking after they just found out that a young Potential called Chloe killed herself:

"Anyone want to say a few words about Chloe? Let me. Chloe was an idiot. Chloe was stupid. She was weak. And anyone in a rush to be the next dead body I bury, it's easy. Just…think of Chloe, and do what she did. […] I'm the slayer. The one with the power. […] I've been carrying you - all of you - too far, too long. Ride's over."

See also, Buffy's speech in Selfless ("there's just me ... I am the law".) See also her admission in Conversations With Dead People that she thinks she's better than all the guys she's ever dated.

To me, it feels obvious that the intended arc of this season, however imperfectly executed, is that Buffy has a sense of herself as uniquely and especially "the one with the power'", but that she's never had any real leadership or mentorship role before and she doesn't know how to use that power to look after all of the Potentials. That she's afraid she won't be able to protect them all and so doesn't want to make emotional connections with them and tells herself (and them) over and over that some of them are going to die no matter what and they just have to accept that. That she tries to keep them at arm's length and hide how badly their deaths actually do affect her, and that she adopts a protective tough-love approach which backfires spectacularly. And that eventually she realizes this approach isn't working and that she should be trying to share her power with them instead of using it to tell them what to do.

And yet so many people on here seem to think that when the Potentials get (understandably) upset about this -- upset about being called weak and stupid by a woman who barely seems to know their names and can't seem to stop reminding them that she has power and that they don't -- that we're meant to think "oh, they are all so ungrateful and unpleasant and Buffy is a saint for taking such good care of them anyway". That her "arc" this season is that she is perfect and doesn't need to learn anything and doesn't have to change in any way, all while people keep giving her shit for literally no reason.

And I just don't see how that makes sense! I just don't find it an interesting narrative and I don't really see how the show itself supports it. The Buffy Summers who gives the speeches I quoted above wouldn't think of sharing her power with others. That's an idea she only comes to when she realizes that being "the thing that monsters have nightmares about" is no substitute for being a good leader and making real connections with other people.

[seresinhangmanjake]

The One I Want: Part 3

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Plus size!reader

Summary: You're new in town and some guy named Jake is about to be your roommate. Being skeptical of new people keeps you lonely and uninterested in any entanglements, but Jake is desperate to change that.

Notes/Warnings: cursing, maybe. I don't think anything else. Sorry if there are typos.

Words: 1720

The One I Want Masterlist

---

Jake Seresin is a wizard. Or a mind-reader. Or some creature with wildly sensitive hearing. You’re sure of it. 

In the month since you moved into the apartment, your only moments alone come when you lock yourself in your bedroom. Otherwise, Jake is near you—sitting next to you, looking at you, talking to you. If your door opens, he follows not five seconds later. If you sit down at the island with your breakfast of bland cereal, he enters the kitchen within two minutes to prepare his own meal; the same meal every morning. Eggs, Canadian bacon, and a protein shake. If you dare to switch the television on, turns out he’s been meaning to watch that show for weeks. You had no idea he was into movie special effects competitions. 

It isn’t irritating, exactly—though, it wouldn’t shock you if others experiencing similar treatment would feel that way. You just can’t figure him out. He’s unfigure-outable. You’re pretty sure that’s a thing. If not, Jake Seresin just brought it into existence. And here you thought you were the mystery. 

“So I was thinking,” he says. 

You close your book without a second thought, having barely read and retained a line in the last fifteen minutes anyway. From the moment he came out of his room and plopped down on the couch—his leg bouncing and eyes trained ahead on nothing—you’ve been waiting for him to snap the tense band of silence between you.

His fingers clasp together, thumbs subtly twiddling when he finally looks over to you. “Maybe you could meet my friends. They’ve asked about you, and you’ve already met Nat so it’s really only the guys.”

That was perhaps one of the last things you imagined he would say. You’ve heard very little of his friends. They’re also pilots. His team. They all have weird nicknames. Half of those nicknames are animals. 

There are other tidbits Jake casually mentioned as well. Coyote is his closest friend. There’s a Rooster who recently found himself a chick. A Bob and a Phoenix—who you learned is Nat—are particularly attached. 

But every bit of that information you figured he was simply spilling to fill moments where you were in the same room but not speaking. Or perhaps it’s some method to draw out feelings of trust so you might participate in his little game of show and tell. In his eyes is always the hope that you’ll share something of your own, but you have yet to find the courage or need to do so. 

“Oh,” you reply, trying to gather the correct words to turn him down. “Look, don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m not really up to meeting a group of people today.”

You hate the way his face falls. Like a puppy denied a treat. But it lasts only a second as another thought brightens the green hue of his irises. 

“What if we went somewhere? You and me.”

“What?”

His body shifts on the couch, more of him now facing you. He’s wearing a shirt today. He’s been wearing shirts around you since you made the request weeks ago, but they’re weak at disguising the body underneath. Thin fabric pulled tight like a second skin. 

“You said no bars,” he continues. “How do you feel about diners?”

—

It’s an odd image—Jake framed in this setting. He’s all lean muscle and neatly styled hair with a clean-shaven jawline surrounded by greasy food and booths so old their plastic seats are cracking. As others watch him—particularly the hostess who cannot for her life keep from glancing his way every thirty seconds—he watches you. Says nothing; just watches until the waitress returns to set a few plates and mugs in front of you both. 

“There you go, kids,” she says. She’s older, and her hair is done up in a style that hasn’t followed the turning of the decades, but you like that it suits her; that she hasn’t paid attention to the change around her, or simply doesn’t care. With her hands on her hips, she says, “Now Jake, if I knew you were bringing a girlfriend I would’ve set aside some of that pie you like.”

Your eyes bug so much they could’ve fallen right onto the table, but Jake chuckles, smiling at you before directing it to the waitress. “Don’t spook her, Mags,” he teases. Then, “This is my new roommate.”

Her lips form an ‘O’ that holds for a few seconds too long before she blinks and tilts her head to the side. “Didn’t work out with the other one, honey?”

“Not so much, no.”

“Well, that’s just fine. I wasn’t a fan.” Mags takes a breath and straightens out her little apron; a costume element you’d rather die than wear, but much like her hair, Mags seems to take pride in it. You can’t fault her for that. You wish you could find a job you enjoy. Or a job at all. She shoots you a grin; nothing like the rehearsed smiles from someone in a customer service job, but a genuine curve of the lips that creates a warm little ball in your chest. “You, on the other hand, look like such a sweetheart. So be good to my Jake here.”

You don’t have the opportunity to disappoint her because she doesn’t wait for a response. Be good to her Jake. Not an ask. A demand. An unspoken ‘or else’ hanging in the air. And though she’s got at least forty years on you, you’re pretty sure she’s spry enough to follow through on her sneaky threats. 

Mags squeezes Jake’s shoulder and departs, leaving you in a confused state of mixed energies. Shock and discomfort radiate off of you like heat waves, meeting the cool calmness emanating from a beaming Jake. 

“Will you tell me more about yourself now?” he asks. 

Shaking off the questionable tone of the older woman, you reconnect yourself to the man in front of you. His words soak in; another unexpected curveball Jake has thrown you within one day. His friends want to meet you, and now your personal details are on his mind. What would come next? Does he want to know the last time you were thoroughly kissed? Your high school GPA? Height and weight? If so, he’s going to be terribly disappointed. 

Steaming, wispy tendrils invade your vision, and you finally register the blueberry hint hitting your nostrils. Jake had whispered the order to Mags with the explanation that he already knew what you wanted. And being the mind-reading wizard you’re convinced he is, on a menu of nearly one hundred items he magically happened to pick something you enjoy. 

You hold yourself back from digging in, instead meeting his eyes as you cross your arms over your chest. “You think free pancakes are a good trade for my life story?”

He slowly slides a mug closer to you. “I got you coffee as well.”

When you raise an unenthused brow, Jake sighs. 

“Fine. You’re leaving me no other choice than to guess,” he says. “But if I get it right, will you be honest?”

With a snort, you pick up your fork and take your first bite of the sweet fluffy cake. It’s undeniably delicious. Fucking wizard. “Sure,” you say, and akin to a child, Jake’s eyes light up like a Christmas tree. 

He ignores his own food and drink to once again watch you. Observing. Your eyes to your lips to your neck and back again. When he comes to a conclusion, he leans back in the booth. “You are a fan of the beach and before you die you intend to live in every beach town this country has to offer for at least two months each.”

Your fork pauses halfway to your mouth. “Are you kidding?”

“Well, since it appears that I am wrong, I’m going to say yes I am kidding because I’m very funny like that.” He stares some more, eyes narrowing. “You’re searching for a long-lost family member.”

“No.”

“You are only attracted to Navy men and thought you’d travel to a hub.”

Again, as he likes to do, he leaves you lacking words for a moment. “That better be another one of your ‘I’m very funny like that’ attempts,” you eventually manage to say. “And you know I wasn’t aware this was a Navy town.”

Jake nods and then leans forward in his seat, arms overlapping on the linoleum tabletop. You can sense the sudden shift; a new energy. The glint in his eye doesn't quite go with the steady seriousness of his voice. Like mismatched puzzle pieces. “So you’re not attracted to Navy men?” he asks. 

Your head jerks back to regain the distance he lessened. “Not exclusively.”

“Damn,” he replies, full playful tone back in place. “I wanted to at least get that part right.”

There’s another bright smile from him. A wink. You look to your right to find Mags' watchful gaze; motherly and hopeful.

After another swallow of pancake, you say, “Alright, you’re done for the day.”

“Oh, come on,” he whines. 

When you shake your head, he picks up his fork and begins to poke at the eggs on his plate, and you bask in the silence of his disappointment. Peace and quiet, with the exception of the diners surrounding you. No questions. No attempted agonizing small talk. You have a moment to breathe. 

It’s not until you’re halfway through your food and the coffee is nearly drained that Jake lifts his head. 

“I’m going to figure you out,” he says with an unwelcome note of determination. 

Your eyes snap up. 

The feeling behind his statement is hard to nail down. You would’ve said delving into your history was something fun for him to do. Something to pass the time with the new person in his home. But now it comes off more like a need. A little prick in his side that he can’t shake. 

You so badly want to be wrong in your interpretation. You want him to give up; to surrender to your stubbornness. Ideally, sooner rather than later. 

“You really don’t have to,” you say.

Jake doesn’t miss a beat. Nothing about him—not his breath, not his stare—stutters at your response. Instead, he returns with, “But I want to.”

---

A/N: Sorry it's a little short. Next chapter will be labeled 3.5 and will be from Jake's POV.

tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @ssa-sadboi @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792 @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @penguin876 @rogersbarnesxx @nani-kenobi @tgmavericklover @athenabarnes @elite4cekalyma @buckysteveloki-me @shelbycillian @kissmethric3 @fox-bee926 @hangmandruigandmav @waltermis @fandom-life-12 @a-serene-place-to-be @bruher @cehenyne @tngrace @mamaskillerqueen @benedictsvestcollection @blackwidownat2814 @himbos-on-ice @entertainmentgal8 @hookslove1592 @whoeverineedtobe @alwaysclassyeagle @chaytea06 @cherrycolas-things @turtle-in-a-tornado @have-a-nice-day-k @inkandarsenic @kidd3ath @coldmuffinbanditshoe

[cursedkeyboard]

Babies shouldn't grow up ☆ Jason Todd & GN!Reader

What does Jason do when he finds a scraggly looking kid trying to pickpocket a gang member in the slums of Gotham? Beat up the criminals and steal the child, of course. [PART ONE ♤ PART TWO ♤ PART THREE ♤ PART FOUR ♤ PART FIVE ♤ PART SIX]

pairings: Platonic Jason Todd & Child GN!Reader

Just like every other story, Jason found you by pure accident

He was doing his rounds in Gotham, tending mostly to the slums where vigilantes didn't patrol as much and police never cared for

And after being tipped by Oracle about gang activity happening nearby, of course he left to check it out

Lo and behold, the place was crawling with gangsters, but not only that, civilians as well

Civilians like you, who managed to swipe one of the gangster wallet so swiftly even Jason wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't been paying attention to the only kid in the area

Needless to say, his interest was picked immediately

First of; Jason always had a soft spot for kids, so seeing one in such dreadful place immediately set off the protective alarms in his head

Second of; You reminded him so much of himself it fucking hurt

Nimble fingers, swift footsteps, a scratched up face

Clearly starved, clearly beaten, clearly abandoned

It was like looking at a mirror and seeing into the past

So when you accidentally bumped into another gangster as you tried to leave the scene, falling to the ground and letting the wallet slip from your hand, Jason didn't hesitate

Before any of the criminals tried to even look at you, Jason was already smashing their faces against the dirty streets

You, a smart street kid, immediately escaped into an alleyway as Jason created havoc by taking every gang member by himself, effectively stopping their arms deal before it even started

It was bloody, maybe a little too vicious for a certain old Bat's liking, but Jason wasn't taking any chances

Once he was done and Oracle had already updated the police to go and grab the knocked out men, Jason went looking for you

Luckily for him, the alley you slipped into was one with a dead end

He found you crouched by a large garbage bin, a cut on your cheek, and a mean little glare

Jason tried hard not to laugh

Look, you were such a small thing at that age, barely ten or so

For someone trying to be intimidating, you sure looked like a puppy

A puppy with rabies that wanted very much to chomp his fingers off but a puppy nonetheless

Instead of laughing, he crouched too, making himself smaller and less intimidating despite his large size, showing you his empty hands when you looked like you were about to bolt or bite

Jesus Christ, you were small

Could you even reach his hips?

In all honesty, he didn't think much at the moment

he didn't stop to calculate the risks or the consequences

not did he really care about how incredibly selfish he was being, trying to mend his own old wounds by using you

All Jason did was pull off his helmet, extend a hand, and ask; "Wanna come with me, squirt? I can get you a much better place than this shithole."

And while you argued that you learned never to trust strangers or follow weird men home, you also knew about Red Hood, the only vigilante to truly care about the poor in Gotham

And he'd shown his face, which, you know, vigilantes never do

So you hissed and tried your best to be a mean little shit

When Jason only laughed, never raising a hand nor his voice, something inside little you calmed down

Adults usually screamed at you when you were being annoying

Some slapped and hit you for glaring at them

But this adult... he was kind

You could tell instinctively, as a kid who barely ever experience any gentleness

You gave in with a grumble and Jason immediately wrapped you in his jacket and pulled you up in his arms

He saw you weren't wearing any shoes and he didn't want you cutting your little feet in some disease ridden glass

You tried to argue

"I'm heavy!" You had squeaked as you tried to push away from his chest

he laughed, annoyingly warm

apparently to him you weighed the same as three and a half apples

He even made a show of throwing you in the air a little when you insisted

Your little squeak put the biggest smile on his face

Jason couldn't lie, you looked fucking adorable when he put you on his motorcycle, his spare helmet so much bigger than your little head

God, he was already growing fond and it hadn't even been thirty minutes since he met you

As he strapped you in as securely as he could, making sure his jacket was closed and the helmet wouldn't slip, a familiar voice spoke up again

Oh, right, she was there the whole time

Oracle asked him if he knew what he was doing

Jason turned his comms off and drove home

He had a room to decorate and a child to feed

And as you wrapped your little arms around his middle, gasping and wow-ing as you saw parts of Gotham you had never seen

Jason knew this wouldn't be a one-time thing

To be continued...

[nethhiri]

Smolder

Heat x Reader

Warnings: none

Phew! Just barely made it in time for New Year's Eve! Enjoy! (If there's egregious typos oops. I'm so tired.)

For months now, you had your eyes on the blue-haired commander. Sure, most people thought the captain or his first mate were the most handsome, and that may be true, but Heat was the sweetest. And you were downright afraid of Wire, so count him out of the running.

Ever since you had been brought on board, Heat was kind to you. You were treated like any rookie, and given the worst jobs. On occasion, Heat would drop by and ask how things were going. When you were finally promoted to full crew member, Heat was the first to congratulate you. It seemed like whenever the crew was split into groups, you were always in his. Maybe it was a coincidence, though you had thought you had seen him staring at you from the corner of your eye several times.

Today was no different, you had been sent along with Heat and a few others into port to restock on things for the next voyage. The new year was also a few days away and there were a few things the captain had requested for a party. You were given the task of finding a few of the items and had found everything but the last one. None of the shops had a "Maritime Cascade Sector Douser" and every shopkeep had given you the same clueless stare when you had inquired about it. You were so frustrated you were about to cry. It was going to look so badly that you couldn't even do a rookie-level job. Heat was going to think you were a total loser. You didn't want to disappoint him, or your captain.

You were already late meeting up with the crew, so you hurried back, easily locating the group of rough-looking punks that were your crew. They sort of stuck out in town squares of normal villages.

"Took you long enough." Heat nodded to your bags. "Did you get everything?"

"Uhh." Your eyes flicked to the ground. "Not everything..." You had to look at the list again to get the name right. "I couldn't find the Maritime Cascade Sector Douser."

"What the fuck?"

"Sorry! I went into every shop and asked for it but no one knew what I was talking about!"

"No, no I didn't mean you, Y/N." Heat pinched the bridge of his nose. "Kid always puts some made up shit on these lists because he thinks it's hilarious. Usually I go through and cross them out. Must have missed this one though." Heat added, "Hope you weren't stressed about it."

When you returned to the ship, Heat offered to take the bags you were carrying. A short while later, Heat turned back up with one of the bags. You stared at it for a while before remembering you had done some personal shopping while you were out as well, some very personal shopping. Heat's face was red and he wouldn't look you in the eye.

"You- you forgot something I think." Heat practically threw the bag at you and ran away.

You had been so worried about not being able to find the last thing on the list, that you had completely forgotten about your own bags. You wondered how much Heat had seen. Did it really matter? Everything in that bag was lace or leather. You didn't have anyone to wear it for, yet. That didn't mean you couldn't wear it for yourself in the meantime. If you felt sexy, maybe you would be more confident. And you needed confidence to finally make a move.

On New Year's Eve, when the clock struck midnight, you were supposed to kiss someone to ring in the new year, and you were going to make sure that someone was Heat.

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

Heat could feel the dread setting in. He hated this time of year, and the closer it got to New Year's Eve, the more he withdrew. He used to celebrate. He loved anything explosive, and fireworks were no exception. Heat used to have a whole fireworks show planned out for the ship. Every year, he became more and more aware of the fact that everyone was getting a kiss but him. And every year, he stayed around the party for less and less time, until he stopped showing his face entirely.

This time of year made him increasingly self-conscious. Heat hated his scars. Most of the time he could ignore them. When everyone around him was enjoying the company of their partner, he was by himself. Who would want to kiss scarred lips? Who would want to kiss someone like him? This year, he dared to think about coming to the party. Ever since you had joined the crew, there was something about you that reeled Heat in. You always smiled so warmly at him when he checked up on you, which is why he checked up on you a little more often than the other new members. He had an addiction to your smile. Even if it wasn't true, he liked to think you reserved that especially warm smile for him. Maybe he imagined it, but your face only lit up for him, no one else.

This year, he thought that if he came to the party, he might finally have someone to kiss, someone that wanted his kiss. That thought was dashed from his mind when he had dumped out the shopping bags from earlier. One of your personal bags had been forgotten and out spilled some rather scanty unmentionables. His heart clenched in his chest. You had someone. Why else would you buy a bunch of new underwear, and very sexy underwear at that? He quickly shoved everything back in the bag before he could think of what you might look like in them. It felt wrong.

Yet another year he would spend in his room it seemed.

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

The entire night you waited. You had put in effort to look your best. A few of the crew even complimented you, but it fell on deaf ears. You only wanted to hear it from one person. You wove through the mostly drunk crew looking for Heat. At first you thought he was late, but the longer the night wore on, the more it was apparent he wasn't coming. A steady stream of booze kept you company instead. You nursed a drink, sitting alone out of the way.

"Disappointed?" Wire spoke from next to you, seeming to have materialized from thin air.

"I don't know what you mean."

"You were looking for someone."

"It's fine."

"He doesn't like New Year's Eve. The whole New Year's kiss thing." Wire seemed to hesitate. "Don't tell him I said anything, but he's self-conscious of his scars."

"I don't care about that," you said softly.

"He's in his room." Wire nodded in the direction of the cabins. "If you wanted to find him before midnight."

"I don't know." You swirled your glass. "Would that be weird?"

"I promise you, it would be welcome."

You held Wire's gaze for a few seconds before nodding. You tossed the rest of your drink back and mustered the courage to go knock on Heat's door. You walked there slowly, trying to think of something to say. Before you knew it, you were standing outside his door. And before you knew it, your hand seemed to knock of its own accord.

Even though you were the one who knocked, you were equally as surprised as Heat was when he answered the door. He clearly wasn't expecting anyone. He was only wearing sleep pants. You didn't want to meet his eyes anyway, but the happy trail staring you directly in the face made it near impossible to tear your eyes away.

"Y/N?" Heat seemed groggy, like he might have been sleeping.

"Hi."

"Do you need something?"

"No. I mean yeah. I mean..." You stumbled over your words. "I wanted you- wanted to talk to you."

Heat blinked sleepily before stepping aside. You realized he was inviting you in. Was it okay? To be in your superior's room like this? You stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, looking around superficially. You didn't want to be too nosy.

"Is something wrong?" Heat was concerned.

"Not exactly." You fidgeted with you hands. "Can I speak freely?"

Heat nodded, unsure of where this was going.

"I- I was looking forward to tonight. I waited all night and then you weren't there and Wire said you didn't like New Year's Eve and I've had too much to drink-."

You were cut short by the sound of fireworks. Blues and reds and yellows flashed across Heat's face. It was already midnight. It was too late. You failed to get your point across.

"Fuck!" You yelled, frustrated.

You panicked and grabbed Heat's face, pulling him down to you and kissing him. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to come here after drinking. You abruptly stopped, realizing what you had done.

"Sorry! Sorry! I just really like you and I wanted to kiss you tonight!" You rambled. "You can forget I was here. You can forget this happened. Sorry!"

You turned to make a speedy exit, but found Heat anchoring you in place with his hands on your shoulders.

"What if I don't want to forget?" Heat bent down, saying more softly, "What if I wanted that, too?"

You closed the gap between you again, planting your lips against his. He reciprocated, moving his lips against yours. His hands gently held your face, his fingers a whisper against your skin, like he was afraid if he touched you and made it real, the whole thing would disappear in a dream. You felt him freeze under your touch as you brushed your fingers against the scars on his cheek. Contrary to his belief that you would be disgusted, you actually liked the texture of his skin. You wanted to rub your thumb over his cheek all night, to show him the affection he deserved.

When you finally parted, you held each other, gently swaying. It was entirely possible you were the only one swaying, with the amount you had to drink. You kissed a few more times, unwilling to leave his embrace, nearly falling asleep in his arms.

"Y/N?" Heat sounded apologetic. "I'm actually pretty tired. Uh..."

"Oh. Do you want me to leave? I woke you, didn't I?"

"You don't have to." Heat turned red and hastily added, "But I'm not asking for- I'm not expecting-"

"I want to." You looked up at him. "That way when I wake up I'll know I wasn't dreaming."

A slow smile spread across Heat's features and he kissed your forehead. "Let's go to bed, Y/N. Promise it's not a dream."

[bouquetface]

Vedic Astro 1

Accuracy influenced by entire chart.

Sun in Scorpio 2nd H

In Vedic this can result in having karma related to the father. This can manifest in many ways. Ex: Father steals from you, Father refuses to provide or nurture, Father needs money from you at some point - needs money for a medical treatment, etc.

Sun will rule your 11th house if you have this placement in vedic. This shows you value your friendships. Throughout your life, your social network will help you. However, due to the sun’s nature, you may not always be grateful for it. Especially in your younger years.

Ex: Your friend tries to help you find a job. In the moment, you don’t realize that your friend is being very caring towards you. Rather, you feel the job isn’t appealing or you feel it’s not that big of a deal that the friend has found a job for you.

As a result, due to scorpio’s karmic nature, you now end up in a situation where a friend is acting entitled towards you. In a different friendship, you may end up being used - possibly financially.

Ex: You pay for your friend’s meal, they never return this favour. Rather they act entitled & ungrateful about it. They act as if you owe them these meals. This upsets you as you have gone out of your way to be kind.

This isn’t to say you are a bad person who has bad karma. It is simply the karmic scale balancing itself. For your placement it is likely the karma involves social network, money & family specifically the father & his side.

When wrong is done to you, the scale will balance itself too.

In Vedic, scorpio is ruled by Ketu & Mars. Ketu can make you generous. You may enjoy giving gifts or making gifts for your friends & family. Ketu is strengthened when you are kind in this way. This is because Ketu does not want more. Now, this doesn’t mean you should donate all your money and always be a saint. Rather you should strive to be kind and helpful (not even financially just in general) when you can. This can help bless you with opportunities. Especially since your 11th (social circle, networking) & 2nd (finances) are connected.

Good news about 11th ruler in 2nd is it indicates you will have good wealth. This doesn’t always mean you’ll be a millionaire. It means you will always be pretty stable - the basic needs are always met. Ex: You could make a huge mistake like quitting your job without another one lined up. You could struggle to find a new job. Yet, you will be taken care of. You will have a family or spouse who supports the basic needs while you become stable again.

Accuracy will be influenced by the entire natal chart.

Rahu in 5th House

This is an indicator of attraction to those from other religions, ethnicities, nationalities.

This indicates having many children as well. I know someone with this placement who told my grandma they would never have kids. Yet, they ended up with many. Possible manifestations are: 1 - Simply having many kids. 2 - Having step kids along with your own kids. 3 - Adopting kids.

There is a scandalous side to the 5th H. I’ve seen rahu in 5th in a man’s chart & he just recently revealed he’s having a kid with his mistress.

Of course astro doesn’t make you do anything. It does indicate in his chart, he is someone who struggles with being satisfied when it comes to his own pleasure.

Accuracy for everyone is dependent on the ENTIRE chart. Looking at one placement or aspect is barely helpful when it comes to life prediction.

Jupiter in 10th House

Generally, this indicates the father is a teacher. The father may influence your career choice. The father may be highly educated himself.

If Jupiter is in neutral signs, the father is a neutral figure (both good & bad traits). If Jupiter is exalted in Cancer, it indicates the father is a strong presence. Someone you admire and look up to. You adapt their beliefs - religious, political, life perspective, etc.

Now if you feel this doesn’t resonate, check for sun and saturn position as well. For ex: Saturn in 9th can indicate a strain between father and child. Sun in scorpio can indicate karma between father and child.

So sometimes regardless of if you have an exalted Jupiter in 10th, the father can be more of a lesson on what you DON’T want to be.

Jupiter in 10th can give you a career where you are looked at as a teacher. You could be a literal teacher or teach newcomers in the field. People see you as reliable and knowledgeable.

Jupiter represents husband in vedic astrology too. In 10th, it shows you may meet in a work/professional setting.

You must consider the entire chart when looking for accuracy.

Rahu in 7th House

This is another indicator of attraction to people from different backgrounds. (Religious, ethnic, nationality.) High chance you marry a foreigner.

These people love relationships. You can hate being single. You need a partner to feel good about yourself. It can be obsessive thoughts & even fear. When will I find someone? Why can’t I find someone? What if I don’t ever find someone?

Good side is you can be highly intuitive. Especially when in a water sign. You are simply in tune with what other people need & want. This can make you very good at business that involves working with people.

This placement can indicate being cheated on or being the cheater. I have seen it both ways. 7th house is other people, however it aspects the first house which is you. Thus, you may be the one who can be deceitful. You or the partner may love attention from opposite sex. They need that validation and may do immoral things to get it.

Even when cheating is not involved, often these people find after marriage their partner was hiding something. Not necessarily a negative thing. Sometimes it’s a personal thing from their past - they didn’t feel comfortable sharing until much later. Or it’s something neutral, they weren’t consciously hiding this thing to be deceitful. You are always learning something due to your spouse.

I know many with this placement personally. For 2 of them, they were cheated on not the cheater. & 1 person is someone who I know would not cheat and to their knowledge has not been cheated on. A well placed rahu, or well placed 7th H ruler can give good results. Like this person, they are dating someone from a different religion & they plan on converting. Nothing bad in their connection.

However, if I am to be truthful, I know someone with placement who always seemed like they would never cheat or lie. Yet, later in life, things changed them. In their 40s, this man left his wife AND KIDS to marry his mistress.

Don’t take it personally or feel fear due to other people’s experiences. Accuracy is influenced by the entire chart.

Scorpio Mars in First house

Mars is connected to your aries 6th house. This can indicate intense relationship with mother’s siblings. They may strongly dislike you. Or you do things that feel like an obligation for them.

At some point in life, you may change your appearance or life direction drastically. Reasons vary sometimes you realize you have self sabotaging behaviours and must heal. Other times it can be due to an illness or injury that changes you. You could undergo a surgery. It may be needed or cosmetic.

Also, one thing I noticed is all these people’s births were significant. They either were extremely intense births such as being a first birth. OR a surprise birth, the mother was expecting the baby to be born a week later but the baby came sooner. Other ex: 1 person needed an emergency c section. 2nd person was so big they cut their mom open, she needed stitches.

Mars is a “cutting” energy so when in the first house, it can indicate cuts in your body or you leave a mark or cut on other people. This can manifest as being an aggressive person. You may experience physical abuse or assault someone else. However, this is an extreme example of what can be.

Accuracy is influenced by the entire chart.

Aquarius Moon in 6th House

People you help will  become your enemy. Enemy is kinda corny and dramatic but what I mean is people you provide emotional + physical support for will turn against you. It can be friends, coworkers, siblings/family, lovers, etc. They will become jealous and hateful towards you. 

Ex: You introduce a friend from work to your social circle because they seem lonely. That friend will attempt to turn your social circle against you. They may gossip/spread lies about you. They will not recognize the good you did by inviting them into your social circle. Rather they will try to take your spot.

These people must be cautious of who they let in their life. With pisces as your 7th house, you gravitate towards helping people. You must keep in mind not everyone deserves your help. Some will want to bring you down/drain you of your compassion.

Generally, aqua moon in 6th people are focused on their health. Later in life, they often become routine-based. They develop healthy habits. Sometimes, it can be an illness or injury that triggers this health journey. 

If you have an elder siblings, they may either become an enemy or distant from you. However, if well placed, they may help you in times of struggle.

Ex: I know someone with this whose older sister helped get her a job interview when she was unemployed.

Accuracy influenced by entire chart.

[ranticore]

About the kid raised by harpies, we have a rough story to explain how they ended up there (it got a lot longer than I thought it would omg): A pen has her eggs stolen, she is able to see the man who steals them but he ends up escaping. This event causes her partner to completely lose faith in their king, believing she could do a better job, and she eventually turns into a king herself, defeating him and taking the pen as a tiercel. As the pen has always been very active, and could barely keep herself still in the tiercel nest at all, they make a deal: she will be allowed to patrol the areas around the eyrie, as long as she's never far enough to disappear from view, never hunts and immediately comes back at any signs of danger. One day, as she's observing a human caravan passing by, she sees a very familiar face… With him, a woman, and in her arms a baby, who they lovingly look at. She follows the caravan further and further, waiting, watching… when an opportunity arises, she snatches the child and flies away with it, back to the eyrie. Her king is incredibly worried when she's back, looking for any sign of injury. What happened? What were you thinking? What would I do if you- wait what is that She explains what happened, and argues that it's only fair that she keeps the human's child after he took hers. She wouldn't be doing anything vital anyways, as it would only take away her time and resources from the flock, but it would be a great distraction from her boredom, keeping her closer to the eyrie. Besides, what other flock has a human in its midst? What a novelty for him to show off! His flock is so prosperous that they can not only keep tiercels but also raise a being from a completely different species just for the fun of it! In the end, he gives in, letting his beloved keep her "hobby project". btw we've thought of calling the kid "Five Talons", since, well, five fingers and all (also it sounds cooler than Five Digits). The first name we came up with was "Stolen Goods" though, I really liked it but friend noticed that it sounded a bit mean dskmfd What do you think? :] I would appreciate some help with naming the pen and the king as well... I'm almost done drawing the first one, may I send you the drawing through a message?

Ahh so sorry it took me a while to get to this!! Yes of course you can dm me any time and I can help with the naming if you like

This story is so funny honestly I'm completely on board... I especially like the angle of "well look, isn't it kind of a flex to raise a human child as well as we're doing?" because that's really. That's just how they think all the time, you always have to be showing off it's just like the law.

Also I'm thinking of this sort of almost parent trap (?) type situation going on here where both stolen babies are sort of being raised in parallel in a sense, by parents who have had their true child stolen from them, so I wonder what types of experiences they may have in common (and whether they might ever be able to meet and bond over it? Like here's a sibling you never knew you had... or instead would they hold the other responsible for their own situation, the hurt of their parents, etc. Much to consider!!!).

Bearing in mind that a stolen harpy is likely not going to a very prestigious town flock, otherwise there'd be no need to resort to theft, it would likely be in more of a similar situation to the human kid than you'd think - raised entirely by a different species, lacking a 'role model' of a sort, potentially not even knowing that other harpies/humans exist, and thinking of themselves as perhaps uniquely weird (in either a positive OR negative sense, i could see both). The difference being that the baby harpy would be raised into servitude, and the baby human is being raised to show off. Both ways are dehumanising (or deharpyising?) in different directions, obviously one has it worse but being placed on a pedestal of your adoptive parent's rage and pain can't be fun either.

[diazsdimples]

@hippolotamus and I were bouncing around ideas the other day about Bucktommy gaining custody of Tommy’s younger sibling and it got me thinking. Full credit to Hippo for this idea.

What if Tommy had a much MUCH younger brother (say, 14 years old compared to his 42 years) who he wasn’t allowed to see. Tommy’s parents are Bad Parents, and they abused Tommy his whole childhood, so imagine the gut-wrenching panic he would feel what he finds out that somehow, his mom is pregnant again. The only thing he knows about this kid is his birthday and his name, and that’s it. He itches to meet the kid, to protect him from their parents but he can’t because they forbid him from coming to visit. They cut off all contact with Tommy, and he spends the majority of his 30’s wondering what happened to his brother and if he’s safe.

Fast forward 14 years, Tommy is happily in a relationship with Buck, they’ve moved in together and are contemplating taking the next step in their relationship (💍). Tommy’s happy, happier than he’s been in years. He’s found his family, he’s doing well in his career, he’s in love, life is good. Until one day, he gets a call out of the blue from his lawyer, who tells him that he now has sole custody of one Dillon Kinard. Tommy listens as the lawyer informs him of his parents’ arrest, and how they’re set to be charged with counts of abuse against his brother. As Dillon’s only other relative, he falls into his custody. And Tommy has no clue what to do. Of course, Buck immediately tells him that they’ve got to take the kid in. He sympathises with Dillon (I think his story resonates with Buck a little) and can see the hurt in Tommy’s eyes whenever they talk about the kid. So Dillon comes to live with them and Tommy and Buck get a sudden crash course in parenting a teenager.

Only problem is, Dillon doesn’t want a thing to do with Tommy. He’s spent his whole life hearing about this almost mythical older brother who never came to visit and never one reached out to them. All he knows is Tommy left him, and he hates Tommy for that. Tommy tries to explain that he wasn’t allowed to see him, that he would have killed to lay eyes on the kid just once, to know he was safe, but every step he took to reach out was thwarted by their parents. And Tommy doesn’t know what the fuck to do, but he knows he is going to love this kid and care for him and provide him with the safe, loving home he needed from the day he was born. So every day, he tells Dillon the things Tommy wanted to hear as a teenager. That he’s safe, that’s he’s loved. As Dillon slowly warms up to Buck and Tommy, he sees that Tommy did care. Tommy shows him the letters he wrote Dillon every year on his birthday, and how they got sent back to him every year. Tommy finds that loving Dillon and helping him heals Tommy’s inner child, the kid that had craved nothing but love and his parents’ approval.

Buck though, Buck is stressed. How the heck can he be a good pseudo-parent to his partner’s 14 year old kid brother? He feels like he’s barely old enough to be his father, having only been around 18 when Dillon was born. And Buck’s never been a dad before, he feels so out of his depth, so he pulls away. He doesn’t run, because he can’t leave Tommy, but he retreats into himself a little bit as he tries to process everything. And that hurts Tommy, because right now he needs his partner’s support, and he feels as though he doesn’t have it. Tommy thinks Buck doesn’t want Dillon in their lives and that hurts more than anything. They have an argument about it, and Buck gets so frustrated because he can’t explain what he’s meaning and he knows he’s hurt Tommy, so he runs to Eddie and begs his best friend to help.

Eddie immediately goes about talking some sense into Buck. He sits him down, listens to Buck rant and ramble about how he’s not good enough, and how he’s going to fuck everything up, and how he doesn’t know how to be a dad. And when he’s done, Eddie very very patiently explains to Buck that he is, in fact, a father. That he’s been a dad to Chris for over half the kid’s life now, that he’s loved his son unconditionally. And that he knows Buck loves Dillon just as much. He contemplates roping Chris in to back him up but figures he should probably leave the kid out of it. Instead, he lets Buck cry, gives him some water and some food, and then frog marches him back to his and Tommy’s home, where he sits the two men down and gets them to actually talk to each other, goddammit.

Tommy and Buck might not be perfect parents, and they’re not going to get everything right all the time, but they’re a damn sight better than Tommy and Dillon’s parents, and that’s all that matters. And sure, the 3 of them have difficult days as Dillon pushes boundaries and is just a typical teenager, but at the end of the day, they love each other and they want happiness for their kid.

[suzukiblu]

Ko-fi thank-you sentences for redflawedglass behind the cut; they asked for dealer's choice, and I picked "Clark wakes up alive". ( chrono || non-chrono )

“I hope you don't mind me just showing up like this,” he says, gentle and apologetic. Conner never had enough choices in his life, short as it was. He feels like–Clark just wants better for him, this time. “Is it alright that I'm here?”

It was partially his fault, that Conner thought he couldn't choose things for himself for so long. Thought he couldn't have things he wanted. Thought he just had to accept whatever he was offered, more often than not. 

Not always. Not every time. But–too much of the time. 

If Clark can help him learn otherwise sooner . . . 

Well. Of course he's going to try to. 

. . . yes, appears very slowly in Clark's head, and he smiles at Conner again. 

“Thank you,” he says. “I'm happy to hear that. I hope us meeting each other makes you happy too.” 

Conner's face stays perfectly impassive, but his eyes go wet. He blinks, and Clark hears his heartbeat stutter again. 

He could've done this last time. He could've done less than this, and Conner would've had a much easier and much less painful start to life outside Cadmus. 

But he didn't, of course, so he can't do any less than this now. 

“Call security,” Desmond says flatly. . 

“On Superman?” Guardian asks in disbelief. “Sir, even if there was a reason to call security, I wouldn't do that to security.” 

“He’s trespassing!” Desmond snaps. “And interfering with the subject, besides!” 

“I mean, I don’t know if this is interfering . . .” Guardian says skeptically. 

This is absolutely interfering, and Clark is going to be doing as much of it as (in)humanly possible, but he does prefer no one calling security and interrupting the conversation. 

“Don’t mind me,” he says to them, as pleasant and sweet as Ma’s most passive-aggressive “bless your heart”. Then he smiles a little softer at Conner, trying to be . . . careful, maybe. 

He did this so badly last time. Did so badly by Conner last time. 

He doesn’t intend to do anything like that again. 

Ever. 

“It really is so good to meet you, kid,” he says gently. Simple and straightforward, still. Easy for a child to understand, he hopes–or at least easier. Conner had enough trouble understanding other people to begin with, and he can’t imagine it’d be any easier while operating a younger brain and with an even earlier interruption to his education uploads. “Would you mind if I hugged you now?” 

Conner’s eyes . . . flicker, just barely. There’s confusion in them, Clark thinks, but it’s a little hard to tell. He’s even less expressive than the version of himself Clark’s used to. 

. . . was used to. 

Clark doesn’t think about that. Not right now. 

. . . ‘hug’? appears in his head, slow and hesitant over an obviously unfamiliar word. 

Clark debates throwing Desmond through a wall. Just a thin wall. Not a load-bearing one. 

But definitely a wall. 

“I mean I’d like to hold you,” he explains, because if Conner sees him get angry, he’ll blame himself for it. Of course he would, between his current age and the kind of things he’s likely had shoved into his brain so far. “Like you were holding your friend a moment ago.” 

He points at the G-gnome to clarify, and Conner . . . hesitates. Nothing appears in Clark’s head. 

“Call security immediately,” Desmond snaps at Guardian. “Now!” 

“Sir–” Guardian starts, half-raising his hands, and Desmond’s expression turns murderous. 

“That was an order, Guardian,” he says dangerously. Clark half-expects to feel G-gnomes in his mind or for Guardian to change his mind under their influence, but nothing happens. 

He doesn’t look at Dubbilex, but he . . . wonders, a little. 

Conner just barely shrinks in on himself, and Clark wonders how many times he’s been faced with an angry person so much bigger and older than him in real life, or even been out of his pod at all. Is this the first time? A regular occurrence? Something in-between? 

The G-gnome hops up on Conner’s shoulders; leans forward over his head and inspects Clark curiously, tilting its own head. Conner freezes, and Clark sees the faintest trace of fear in the back of his eyes. 

He wonders if the G-gnome’s putting it there, but Conner’s looking right at him. 

So if the G-gnome is putting it there . . . 

If it is, Clark can’t help but suspect it’s not actually a deliberate effort on the creature’s part, as opposed to a genuine by-product of Conner not knowing what to expect from him. 

Not knowing if he’ll hurt the G-gnome, he means, remembering the way Conner had hesitated when he’d called it his friend. 

Considering what he knows of how Desmond ran this place–is running this place right now . . . 

“Hello,” Clark says, and smiles at the G-gnome. “It’s nice to meet you too.” 

The G-gnome stares at him for a long, silent moment, and then slips back down behind Conner’s back and wraps its arms around his neck. Clark hears something like a whisper from another room, but not that clear, and Conner . . . hesitates, again. 

Then the word hug appears in Clark’s mind again, this time tentative and longing, and he doesn’t hesitate himself at all. He scoops up Conner and stands up with him in the same moment, and Conner lets out a little breath as his thrumming heartbeat stutters in his chest, and Clark holds him against his own chest very, very carefully, as if he’s holding something more delicate than melting frost on a sunny morning or cracked porcelain. 

Conner doesn’t seem to know what to do with himself; where to put his hands or arms. If he should hold onto him or lean into him or not. 

Clark keeps him in his arms anyway, and swears to himself he’s not leaving without the kid. Not for anything. If Conner doesn’t want to come with him right now, then he’ll wait here with him until he does, no matter what happens outside. 

If Conner never wants to come with him, well–then he’ll just stay, if that’s what it takes. 

He’s not giving Desmond the chance to hurt or hide him. Not giving anyone that chance. 

He wonders if the Conner he remembers even remembered being this small himself, or if it was so brief an experience that it didn’t stick in his head at all. 

He suspects it might’ve been, and hates the thought. 

Buzzes, appears in Clark’s head, still tentative. He doesn’t understand, for a moment, and then realizes Conner’s ear is practically against his chest. So he’s probably talking about . . . 

“I always thought of it as more a ‘thrum’, myself,” he says, and Conner stares mutely at him. Their heartbeats aren’t a perfect match–even with cloned DNA, Conner isn’t quite Kryptonian enough, and his heart beats a little slower and harder than his does. The separate beats are more audible, too. 

But it does still thrum, when it comes to it. 

Warm, appears in Clark’s head too, and Conner ducks his head just enough to hide his face from Desmond when the tears start falling. 

His expression doesn’t change at all, but the tears on his face are undeniable. 

Maybe a load-bearing wall wouldn’t be so bad to throw Desmond through, Clark thinks, bundling the kid up tighter in his arms and wrapping his cape around him as he does. Then he looks at Guardian, and puts on the most pleasant smile he can manage without needing to actually throw Desmond through a load-bearing wall first. 

“I appreciate you taking care of him, but it’s not good for him to be down in the dark like this,” he says, gently stroking what of Conner’s back the G-gnome isn’t perched on and pretending not to notice the fat, heavy tears dripping onto the El crest on his chest. “He needs the sun.” 

“There’s, ah–a solar suit, sir,” Guardian says, but he looks uncomfortable even as he says it. “I mean–he’s being fed solar energy, not just . . . uh . . .” 

He trails off, and looks much more uncomfortable; like he’s just realized what he’s saying. Maybe he has, given Desmond’s influence over the G-gnomes and what they do and don’t let people down here think. 

Guardian still thinks he’s human himself right now, after all.