#LIKE HIS EYE LITERALLY WENT AROUND HIS HEAD!!!

[cakelitter]

Kiss It Better

Older! Leon x Fem! Reader

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warnings: daddy kink, p in v, oral (f receive), breeding kink, spanking, dirty talking, established relationship

words: 3.3k

a/n: hi hi!! no summary for this one cause... idk, a surprise? Reader is attention deprived, but I'd always be demanding more if di Leon was my bf like hello? (never shutting up about him) anw hope you enjoy!!

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Your boyfriend is mad at you.

And how does he decide to punish you? In the cruelest way possible, a way that he knows you’re not strong enough to handle.

Ignoring you.

Robbing you from his attention and validation, treating you like how you’d probably get treated on a daily basis with a guy your age.  

He has never been the type to give you attitude, or even raise his voice, but that does not mean that you go unscathed when you mess up. Right now, he is living his life like he normally does, well his life before he met you apparently. No pet names, no kisses, no “I love you”, not even looking at what you’re talking about and just replying with the most unenthusiastic hum he can muster up at literally everything you say.

“Daddy, look at this cute dog.”

“Hm.”

“How was work?”

“Hm.”

“I almost got ran over by a truck on the highway.”

“Hm.”

It’s pissing you off, and that’s exactly why he’s doing it. Figured out which buttons to push to get on your nerves, and is actively pushing every single one of them. You curl up on his side, wrapping your arm around his neck and place your head on his shoulder. And in return his eyes remained glued to the TV.

You’re going to cry, rip your hair out, and throw yourself off the balcony.

Worst part is that you actually apologized, not once, not twice, but three fucking times, and yet, it all falls to deaf ears. Why is he acting like you kicked homeless puppies or set an orphanage on fire?

Daddy is supposed to be forgiving, and he always has been; pulling you into a hug after each argument, kissing your face and all over your body till you feel better. But apparently daddy is under new management now, following a new set of policies that are getting in the way of your dire need for his attention.

The first day you realized that he’s ignoring you, you’d talk to him and he won’t respond, and if he did it was short and dry answers. Treating you like a persistent fly that just won’t leave him alone, the smile on his lips that was always present when he looked at you is now hid behind his cold gaze.

You tried cuddling, cracking a few jokes, and even started a conversation that you just ended up having with yourself. All of those strategies were met with the same result, nothing. It’s like someone took the man your loved and replaced him with a brick wall, devoid from any capabilities of forming emotional connections or any sort of bond for that matter.

On day two, you tried to make it harder for him to ignore you. Wearing the skimpiest clothes around the house, putting on his shirt with nothing underneath and even went the extra mile of spraying yourself with his perfume. You practically threw yourself over his lap, nuzzling into him and peppering kisses all over his rough stubble.

Nothing.

Actually, he did say something. “You’re blocking the TV.”  

Felt like a slap to the face, you stare at him for a bit hoping that he acknowledges your existence. Again, nothing. His dick is half hard beneath you, aching for your wet heat, and instead of making you ride his dick till you’re crying, he remains still. So now not only is he ignoring you, he’s ignoring his cock as well.

Fine then, the shirt is now off, you are sleeping in your shared bed fully naked and bare like the day you popped out into this world. Figured since Leon is stubborn, maybe he just had a high ego and is too embarrassed to break whatever promise he made to himself to ignore your pathetic attempts of winning him back.

He’ll walk in the room, find you basically giving him an invitation to touch you, waiting patiently in case he changed his mind, and fall right into your trap. A fool proof plan…

The number of times you’ve gotten clowned are getting embarrassing at this point.

Not only did he not do anything, he didn’t do as much as touch you the whole night. Sleeping on his side of the bed and leaving you in the same position you fell asleep in. The arms that would wrap around you during the night are missing, same goes to the hot breath that would fan out on the nape of your neck as you drift off to sleep. Again, cruel old man behavior.

And so, today marks day three without attention. You’ve lost your appetite, lost smell in your left arm, eyelid keeps twitching, haven’t been sleeping well, and you’ve become much irritable. This is getting out of hand; this man has no mercy for your soul. He might as well just shoot you in the leg instead and you’d accept that any day over what he’s doing right now.

You’ve considered just getting on your knees, intertwining your hands together and begging him to talk to you again. Usually, you are never this desperate for a man to talk to you, except for him. Leon has showered you with love every day since the two of you got together, his best and only girl, the apple of his eye, the sole reason he keeps going. You’ve gotten so accustomed to being his baby that it has become an innate need.

In the midst of your desperate attempts, you reach plan C. If it doesn’t work you’ll just give up and actually start acting like a normal fucking person for once, but god forbid things need to reach that point.

This time you don’t say a word to him, ignoring him the way he’s ignoring you. No good morning, no pleading, nothing.

You hop in the shower and then begin to get ready to go out. Your hair is done with extra effort today, and makeup is on point. Not sure if the outfit you’re wearing could be even classified as “clothes”. Cleavage on display, and ass almost hanging out of the miniskirt you have on.

It’s probably illegal to walk out dressed like that, a hazard to public safety. You might as well wear lingerie and call it a day; but believe it or not, that’s what you’re aiming for.

You can see Leon’s eyes look up from his laptop momentarily as you walk past him to go grab something from the other room, but just as you expected he minds his own business, going back to whatever he was doing.

That’s until you see his figure walk into your shared bedroom, leaning back on the door frame, watching you add some final touches to your makeup through the reflection of your vanity. You pretend like you didn’t see him, directing all your focus onto lining your lips.

“Where you going?” Ah, there it is, the first proper sentence he’s said in the past three days.  An achievement that surely deserves a celebration.

 This is what parents must feel like when their child speaks their first word. The child being a man in his late thirties and twice your size, but you digress. With your eyes remaining glued to your lips, you speak coldly. “Out.”

“Out where?”

“There’s this new club my friend wants us to check out together.”

“Which friend?” The look plastered on his face is hilarious; his eyes moving back and forth between yours and your poor excuse of a skirt. He seems worried, more for himself than for you, watching his faux confidence crumble in front of him.

“Won’t be gone for long, don’t worry.” You reply, closing your lip gloss and putting it back in your makeup bag while rubbing your lips together.

“I didn’t ask if you were going to be late or not, I asked which friend.” This tough demeanor doesn’t suit him, he’s clearly out of his element. Fixing his posture, he crosses his arms waiting for you to respond. “Does it matter, Leon?”

You dropped the bomb, letting his name slip out your lips instead of the D-word feels weird, borderline painful, but it had to be done. He goes quiet, your eyes too scared to look back at him through the mirror which has been serving as a way of communication between the two of you.

Can’t remember the last time you addressed him with his name, took you no longer than two weeks to start babbling daddy; his name long forgotten and dust collected in the back of your mind. He liked it, a name only you get to call him by, a trigger you pull causing him to immediately slip into the protective mental space, a space only reserved for you.

“Leon?”

You’re going to shit your pants this actually not even funny.

“Um, isn’t that your name?” Grabbing your purse, you give yourself a one final look over before walking towards the door. Your legs feel wobbly, never the type to start any of these kinds of petty situations. Usually all you have to do is flutter your lashes at him and he immediately gives you whatever you want, this time however he brought this onto himself.

Walking past him, you can feel his eyes burning into the back of your scalp, his energy feeling heavy. You feign confidence, walking slow, posture straight and hips swaying from side to side. Truthfully, you are fighting the urge to just book it and run as far as these heels can take you (not that far) before he does whatever is running through his mind.

You don’t even get to make it two steps away from the door before a hand yanks you back into the room, and throws you over his shoulder.

“Leon, I’m already late, put me down!” A loud smack echoes through the room as a stinging pain overtakes your senses. You yelp out, blood rushing over to the red handprint on your ass, heat spreading on the area.

Your back hits the plush mattress of the bed and within seconds he’s on top of you. His hand grabs one of your thighs spreading them wider as the other goes for your neck. Crashing his lips against yours, a groan escapes your lips, as his hips thrust against your core, hardened dick rubbing against your panty clad cunt.

“Oh yeah, I’m sure that ‘friend’ of yours would be pissed.” His breath feels hot against your lips with each word that leaves his mouth. “What did I tell you about lying, baby?”

Should’ve known that lying doesn’t work on him, never did and never will. Has you memorized by heart, starting from your actions, reactions, and every thought that crosses your mind.

Reality is, there is no friend, and there is no new club. You just wanted to get a reaction out of him, and making up a whole scenario was the only option you had left. “I’m sorry.”

His hand lands on your ass once again with a loud slap, your body jolts in pain as you bite your lip to suppress a whine. “Sorry what?”

“I’m sorry daddy.”

“Atta girl.” He coos, his hand rubbing against the burning skin, rewarding you with a sweet kiss. “See that wasn’t so hard, was it?” The cold air hits your nipples as he drags your top down, revealing your breasts too him. He gropes one, moving over and giving the stiff peak a firm pinch. “Why’d you lie sweetheart?”

Him and those fucking questions, can’t the interrogation wait till he fucked you? His hips continue rubbing against yours, the gusset of your panties is soaked with your arousal. “Wanted daddy’s attention.”

“Of course you did.” He chuckles lowly, eyes focused on your tits as he plays with them. A smile flashes across your lips, maybe your plan did work after all, not fully the way you intended it to; but it worked nonetheless.

His hands are on you, he’s speaking again, and his cock in near reach. Maybe life’s not so bad after all.

“I wouldn’t call this a win, sweetheart; think I might just play with these tits and leave you like this.” The smile that was once present on your glossy lips disappears, your heart drops at the possibility of him leaving you to deal with the aching between your thighs, again. It’s been three long rough days without his dick, he can’t be doing this to you.

“No, no, no please daddy, I’m sorry.” You shake your head from side to side, knots forming between your brows, hoping that your pleading is enough to convince him.

“Was actually going to apologize for being so mean to you lately, but after seeing you act like this… I don’t know, baby.”  You whine, head falling back down on the mattress below.

Frustrated, tears begin to brim in your eyes as your hands reach over and grab his muscular forearm. “I’m so sorry, daddy. I promise I won’t do it again.”

His eyes stare into yours, he stays quiet for a moment before his eyes soften. Dropping down, he places a kiss on your forehead, his thumb caressing the side of your cheek. “Pretty girl, I’m sorry too, shouldn’t have been so harsh with you.”

He presses another soft peck on your cheek, smiling at you warmly. Your heart begins to thump faster, your sadness dissipating with each passing moment. He’s back, you can’t tell of you feel good because the two of you made up, or because his hard cock is still rubbing against your wet heat.

“I need you.” you whisper, rubbing against his hand like a kitten. Chuckling, he nods and kisses you this time on the lips and it feels ten times sweeter than normal. Rubbing your sides, his hand slithers down to your clothed clit, rubbing soft circles, causing your back to arch.

“Think it’s about time to makeup it up for you, sweetheart.” You hum in agreement, capturing your bottom lip in a bite, and spreading your thighs even wider, inviting him to continue. His lips connect to the tender skin on your neck, kissing and biting down on it, your hands tangling between his soft locks and closing your eyes in pleasure.

Moving back, he admires his work momentarily before dropping down to his knees at the foot of the bed. Unzipping your skirt, he pulls the fabric down before tossing it somewhere behind him along with your soaked panties. Calloused hands snake the inside of your thighs, gentle caresses along with some gropes here and there.

His fingers spread your lips open, in awe at the view in front of him, your arousal evident and dipping down from your core like a waterfall, down to the sheets below. “Missed you too, baby. Daddy missed you so much.”

Those words are not for you, but for your cunt, addressing it like it’s his. An open-mouthed kiss gets placed on your clit, his blue eyes staring deeply into yours as he does so. The scene on its own is enough to make you cum.

Teasing you, he places a few more on your thighs; eyes not leaving yours for a minute. He rubs his cheek against the soft skin, the stubbled chin feeling prickly. Giving it the love and affection that it missed out on.

You wait patiently, letting him enjoy and take his time, basking in the heart warming feeling of it all. Like always, good behavior never goes unnoticed, and so he rewards you by pulling the hood of your clit back, and sucking on the sensitive bundle of nerves, a satisfied groan vibrating through it amplifying the pleasure.

His skilled tongue makes out with your pussy, licking and fucking itself into you. Your moans fill the room, gripping the covers below you for dear life. Feeling your orgasm around the corner, but as soon as you notice his hips subconsciously thrusting into the footboard of the bed below, groans coming out of his busy lips, the knot in your stomach snaps immediately, causing your thighs to squeeze around his head as he holds your hips in place.

Placing your foot on his shoulder, you pull away from your core, the uncomfortable sensation of overstimulation taking over your senses. He moves back, stubble glistening in the mixture of your fluids and his spit.

He looks into your half-lidded eyes for a moment, his hand rubbing your thigh affectionately before kissing the inside of it. “So pretty, such a pretty girl.”

Your heart flutters, getting high on each love filled word he says. Grabbing his hand in yours, you pull him up towards you, connecting your lips in a kiss much more tender than he ones before. Lust and desire dissipating, replaced with the warm feeling of adoration. He pets your hair, leaving a final peck on your nose, causing you to giggle in response.

The mood however shifts again when you feel the imprint of his cock through his sweatpants; the familiar aching between your legs ignites once more, begging for him. “Daddy.”

“Right here.”

“Want you inside” He captures your bottom lip into a deeper kiss, his hands assisting yours in taking his pants off. Breaking the kiss, he fully removes them, revealing his thick cock to your desire filled eyes; the flushed pink tip, and the dollop of sticky precum begin to drip down the side of it.

He wraps his fist around it, pumping himself a few times, earning a sharp inhale out of the sensation. The head bumps against your clit, slapping against it a few times before guiding it down to your entrance. The two of you moan at the stretch, his fingers digging into the plush of your thighs. “So tight, sweetheart. Fucking meant for this dick.”

Your eyes flutter close, trying to compose yourself before you feel him begin to move. You can feel every inch and every vein inside your velvety walls. The aroma of sex over takes your senses as his thrusts begin to pick up speed.

Wrapping your legs around his waist, his fingers intertwine with yours as he slams into you, deep and speedy thrusts causing the bed to creak beneath your masses. “Take it, baby. Take it so daddy can fuck you full of his cum.”

Your walls pulsate around him, your hand squeezing his. “Want it.”

“Fuck, might knock you up sweetheart. Make you a mommy as an apology.” Your back arches, his voice bouncing off the walls inside your mind. You nod, biting down on your bottom lip, head empty and pussy gripping his length.

“Like that? Mark you as mine forever, pretty tight pussy all mine.” You wail, gripping onto his shoulders tightly, leaning back your head in attempts to stop yourself from being too loud. “Gonna keep you here all night, make sure that this sweet cunt takes it.”

Pleasure blinds your vision as you let go, your cum coating his dick as he begins to chase his own high. Your head lolls emptily to the side as he continues to fuck into you relentlessly, the head board hitting the wall behind it. Your tits bounce with each thrust, the image of you getting pumped full of Leon’s cum still evident in your mind.

His hips shudder as he releases inside of you, hot and sticky fluid accompanied by some curses and words of praise, earning a satisfied hum from you. Thrusting in a few more times, he admires the sight beneath him, distributing your fluids evenly.

He pulls out, flopping down next to you, as his arm wraps around your body, pulling your closer to his chest. Rough hands pet your hair, as he rests his chin on your temple, keeping your body warm next to his.

The two of you sit in silence momentarily trying to catch your breath. Your eyelids feel heavy, body completely worn out and satisfied as you start slipping away into a much-needed worry free rest, hearing your lover whisper something into your hair.

“Sorry for being mean, sweetheart. Daddy loves you.”

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divider by: @/floriseu

[fandomxo00]

Ok but imagine:

Logan getting jealous when you're oblivious to flirting

Logan was overwhelmingly annoyed. Because you were being kind, as you usually were. To a guy who was so blantly flirting with you, Logan didn't believe you didn't know. But then you apologized when the guy got too close to you and he knew that you were oblivious. Your eyes trailing over to Logan, your heart starting to pick up as you met his eyes. A frown coming over your face at Logan's demeanor before turning back to the man. Which just made your boyfriend fume even more, but you raised your hand smiling over at him. Then made your way over to Logan, his shoulders moving down as let out a breath.

"Hey." You smiled, sliding your hand on his shoulder, before coming to his face. Logan's chip dipping as his hazel green eyes gazed into yours, you saw the wild emotion behind them. "What's wrong?"

"That guy's been flirting with you all night." Logan grumbled, looking into your eyes.

"He was?"

"Yeah baby." He gruffed, his eyes falling on the man as he dipped his head into your neck, as you moved closer to him.

"You know I only want you." You murmured, your hand tangling in his hair and pulling him into your face. Your cheeks flamed at the PDA, but you knew Logan usually didn't like it. But he didn't care right now, both of his hands finding a place on you. One of your hip as he leant back on the wall behind him, his other hand coming up to your face. You melted into his touch, leaning in to his hand your eyes remaining on his, almost in a trance. "He was only an old friend, that's all. I'm all yours, Lo." You promised.

"I'm an insecure jackass." Logan sighed, as your hand rubbed at your chest as you shrugged.

"I'm weirdly oblivious and literal."

"That's what I like about you." Logan murmured, as your hand came up to play at his hair.

"And I like that your so protective over me. Don't think it's just jealously, you know that I don't know what's happening-."

"Then watching them flirt with you over and over as you move away and-apologize for them being creeps." Logan grunted, petting at your hips before leaning in to kiss your forehead. You grinned over at him before rising on your tippy toes to kiss him. He hummed into your mouth, wrapping his arms around you as your hand slipped back into his hair. His tongue invades your mouth, making a blush run up your chest. Then you pulled back, bashfully looking away as Logan smiled down at you. "How about I take you home and remind you who you belong to, huh?" His voice was dark and grumbly, and when his hands went over your love handles your eyes landed on his with wanting eyes.

"Uhh, sounds good," You lowered your voice, "daddy."

Logan huffed out a breath, laughter coming from his chest. Before he grabbed at your ass, before kissing your lips harshly.

tags:@jessjessmarvelandhp @chronicallybubbly @delicateholland @bubblegumholland @mega-kittyglitter-1

NOTE: ik i get experminting with daddy kink don't shame me plz, he is sooo daddy.

[rainbowolfe]

Why Aym and Baal?

They were, according to Shamura, supposed to be Narinder's replacement family/companions. Narinder never really got that memo, but like, what did Shamura expect? Relationships don't work that way. You can't just throw two strangers at someone and have them fill the void of a millennia-long relationship.

But the question of the hour is, why Aym and Baal? I don't think it's because they're cats.

It's implied Narinder had his own family (made up of cats or whatever he is) and chose the Bishops, a goofy assortment of non-mammals over those blood relations. So he's not exactly inclined towards members of his own species. So that doesn't feel like the reason why Shamura chose them. And it doesn't feel like the reason Narinder kept them.

I noticed that this photo from Jalala's journal had to have been of pre-servitude Aym and Baal, cause they're much younger. Baal's hair is shorter, they're both just wearing basic tunics instead of their signature robes, and Forneus isn't wearing her hat. So Aym's always looked a bit scuffed, and it wasn't the result of his time spent with TOWW in the Realm Beyond.

Which means Shamura saw him and went "wow that's literally Kallamar". Scar over one eye? Check. Messed up ears? Check. It would also loosely confirm that the boys were sent after they sealed Narinder, since Kallamar's ears wouldn't be scuffed before then.

It would be really funny if what Aym's looking at is Shamura, and this picture was taken 5 seconds before disaster.

Now, my first instinct was that Baal would be Narinder, and what Shamura hoped to recreate was Narinder's relationship with them and Kallamar. But that doesn't quite make sense. The new "family unit" already has a Narinder, so why would Shamura give him another?

Baal can't be filling Shamura's role for two reasons. One, as the head of the family, Shamura would be more likely to be Forneus (the role they are now placing Narinder in). If not Forneus, then the unseen father presumably taking this picture. Two, Shamura does not believe that Narinder loves them. That's. Kind of why they're doing all of this. So they wouldn't give him a replacement-Shamura either, unless they were feeling really really egotistical.

Which leaves us with two options.

And the correct one is Leshy. Leshy, whose core item is the red camellia. And whose symbol becomes a black heart when he's cleansed.

While we don't get to hear much from Baal, Heket's core traits are that she's a shit-talker and likes to eat. Leshy's core traits are that he's chaotic, but has an appreciation for/focus on the world around him. Smells, sights (when he could see), and sounds.

Baal is actually the politer of the two and, based on his recruitment dialogue ("So much color... so many creatures") he too is the worldly type. Also, Baal thanks Lamb for helping them. Leshy and Narinder are the only Bishops who thank Lamb in the end.

And, you know, if you take the order Shamura lists the family in into account, Leshy and Kallamar are the first and second sons respectively.

...

Of course, this can be taken one step further in another direction :3c I can't just leave Heket out of this.

Although Shamura only gave him Aym and Baal, theoretically what they saw was a four-person family unit that reflected their own... before Narinder entered the picture. I mentioned before that if Shamura isn't a reflection of Forneus, then they're a reflection of the unnamed father. (Who I suspect to be Paean)

Which means they saw Heket in Forneus.

Do you see the vision??

Cause this is a found family, age order doesn't necessarily matter to the familial hierarchy. Even if Shamura wasn't the eldest, they would still be the head (whether matriarch or patriarch) because their role is as the leader of the other three. Heket would be below Shamura, but above Kallamar and Leshy, because she serves as caretaker. She's even the one who takes charge upon Lamb's return, as the matriarch would do if something were to happen to the patriarch.

((Traditionally, while the father is seen as the protector and provider, his purpose is specifically to rule/lead the family. It is the mother whose sole purpose is to protect. Primarily the children, as their (often only) caretaker. But in traditional circles, it's commonly felt that the mother should sacrifice everything for the father as well.))

It would be particularly fitting because a lot of Heket's side of things revolves around sacrifice. How she's burdened by it, and seemingly how much she tried to do to find a better/different outcome. She's characterized as particularly family-inclined.

...

This would suggest that who Narinder valued the most in the family were Leshy and Kallamar. At least, it would suggest that's how Shamura saw it. But I'm liking this line of thought, so let's say their read is accurate.

Shamura saw that Narinder. Could also be Forneus. And Shamura loved Narinder the most, so...

Narinder and Heket's disdain for each other stems from them competing for the same role in their family: The matriarch. Shamura's second in command, and the boys' caretaker.

Not in a "raise them" type of way, at least not in Kallamar's case. But to guide and influence them. To be the one they trust and rely on. Heket has been that. And, intentionally or not, Narinder intrudes on that.

Narinder's the 'other woman' lmao

As a bonus:

Baal is aligned with his father (you get Tears of the Vengeful Father in exchange for him). Aym is aligned with his mother (ditto for Tears of the Merciful Mother).

If Aym = Kallamar; Baal = Leshy; Forneus = Heket; and The Father = Shamura

Then that dynamic is actually reflected in this Tarot Card. It pairs Kallamar with Heket, and Leshy with Shamura. :3

[mylifesjustacarousel]

femme fatale

pairing: james hook x fem!reader (requested!)

summary: you are the new transfer student at merlin academy, and hook falls head over heels for you when he realizes that he’s not the only pirate on campus anymore

type: fluffy…? very silly goofy

CW: kinda suggestive, reader has a knife

WC: 1.5k

not proofread!

“Who is that?” Hook whispered, nudging Morgie’s shoulder. The two of them were sat in class when a certain someone caught Hook’s eye. Morgie looked up from his book, gazing over at the person in question. You were sat a few rows ahead of the boys, your feet on your desk while you leaned back in your chair.

“Her? I think she’s one of the new transfer students. You know, she’s a pirate too.”

Hook’s interest in you instantly piqued. It wasn’t every day that he met another pirate, or at least one as breathtaking as you. “She’s stunning. You think I should ask her out?” Morgie looked puzzled. “Ask her out? You don’t know her.” Hook scoffed, looking offended. “Look at me, Morgs. I’m irresistible to all.”

When class was dismissed Hook got up, scrambling to get up and walk over to you. He almost tripped on his way over to your seat, catching himself on your desk. “Silly me, I’m already falling head over heels for you. The name is Hook, and you are?” he asked, winking at you. You raised a brow, looking him up and down. Your eyes stopped on his hook. “I see where the name comes from. I’ll call you pirate boy. As for my name?” You got close to him, your faces mere inches apart. “You’ll just have to figure it out, lover boy.” you whispered, getting up from your seat and walking past him. Yes, he was gorgeous. But you liked to have a little fun with your prey before you went in for the kill.

Hook was practically frozen in his spot, absolutely in awe from the interaction that had just occurred. Morgie walked up to Hook, tapping him on the shoulder. “You okay? I don’t think I’ve ever seen a girl reject you like that.” Hook stood up, brushing off his clothes. “No, no. That was far from a rejection. This just turned into a game, and the ball is in my court. She’ll be mine… eventually.”

“What’s he so happy about?” Maleficent asked Morgie in a hushed tone, watching as Hook quite literally skipped into the lair. Morgie giggled, looking up from his book. “He met that new transfer student, y/n, in class today. I can’t really say why he’s so happy, though. He almost fell on his face right in front of her. If that was me, I would’ve started running and never looked back.”

Hook looked over at them, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’ll have you know that, no, it didn’t exactly work out how I wanted it to. But, she was totally into me. She didn’t really show it on her face, but I could tell.” Maleficent snickered at him. “You think that you have a chance with her? I’m sure that you could get any girl that you wanted, just not her. No, even Uliana is a little scared of her. She exudes so much confidence that it’s actually a little terrifying, and that is coming from me.”

“And that makes me like her even more. I like a girl who knows what she wants.” He let out a happy sigh, sitting down next to Morgie. “She’ll come around, they all do.”

“Hook, you have a problem.” Hades mumbled.

“I don’t recall asking.” he grumbled. “Look, I think she’s into me. It won’t hurt for me to take my chance. In fact, I think I saw her studying in the common area. Maybe I’ll pay her a little visit.”

“Hello there, m’lady.”

You looked up from your homework, seeing the same pirate from earlier standing in front of you. He pushed your papers aside, sitting down on the table. You crossed your arms over your chest, leaning back in your chair. “Well, isn’t this a pleasant surprise, pirate boy.” He rolled his eyes. “It’s Hook. James Hook.”

Giggling to yourself, you sat up. “Do you even know my name?” Leaning forward, the faint feeling of your breath ghosted the skin on his neck. “Why should I bother to use yours?” Hook audibly gulped, looking down at you. Never, not once, had someone rendered him speechless. He always had something to say, always. “I, uh…”

“You what?” You ran your fingers through his long hair. “Tell me, pretty boy. I don’t bite.” Hook’s heart was racing about a million miles a minute. He absentmindedly leaned into your touch, his eyes threatening to close. “Your name is y/n.”

Your hand stopped in his hair, a smirk growing on your face. “So you do pay attention. I’m impressed, Captain. If you can even be called that. Have you earned the title of Captain?” He looked over at you, pulling your hand out of his hair and holding it in his own. “I can show you why they call me Captain, darling.”

You tapped your finger against your chin, acting like you were thinking about it. “I’ll pass. But, thank you for the invite, gorgeous.” You went to pull away but he pulled you back towards him, your chests pressing together. “You don’t know who you’re toying with, lassie.”

“I’ll see you around, James.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek, leaving a dark kiss mark from your lipstick. He huffed, watching you gather your things. “You’re not even going to consider? I’ll make it worth your while.”

“Maybe another time, pretty boy. After all, I do love to stare at that little face of yours.”

Hook stormed into his room, throwing his bag down on his bed. Morgie looked over at him from his desk. “Hey, Hook… What’s on your face?” Hook groaned, slamming the bathroom door open and looking at himself in the mirror. Right in the middle of his cheek was a big ol’ kiss mark from you. “She’s playing hard to get, Morgs. But I’m not going to let her win.” he grumbled, trying to rub the kiss mark off with water.

Ever since the second that Hook laid his eyes on you in class, he was instantly infatuated. Your confidence, your playfulness, your drop dead gorgeousness… He wanted it all.

Morgie got up, leaning against the doorway of the bathroom. “What if she’s just not interested?” Hook spun around on his heels to face Morgie. “Oh, she’s interested. She’s hot, I’m gorgeous. It’s meant to be.” Morgie slowly nodded, making his way back to his desk.

“You’ll see, Morgs. A pirate always knows how to get their treasure.”

“Okay, Hook.”

You were laid out on a towel at the Enchanted Lake, trying to soak up some sun before the weekend was over. While relaxing, you couldn’t help but think about your new… admirer. You knew that you were playing hard to get, but you couldn’t help it. He was just so fun to play with. No matter what, he kept trying. It was intriguing, to say the least. You couldn’t lie and say that you weren’t even the tiniest bit interested, though. After all, he was gorgeous. But you didn’t give in that easily to anything.

“Sitting by yourself, darling?”

You took a deep breath, not even having to open your eyes to know who the voice belonged to. “Yes, I am, pirate boy. Emphasis on the “by myself” part. How do you keep finding me?” you asked, propping yourself up on your elbows so you could look at him. “I was, uh, actually just passing by. Then I saw you and I thought that I would stop and say hi.” You bit your lip, trying your best to hide the smile that was trying to make way on your face.

“You don’t think that’s a little odd?” You stood up, walking over to him. “I mean, not that I mind, pretty boy. But, you don’t know who you’re messing with.” Within seconds, there was a small blade pointed at Hook. His eyes widened and his face turned a cherry red. “Where did you even pull that out from?” You just shrugged. “A good pirate always keeps a method of defense on hand. If you need tips, pirate boy, I could always give you a… little lesson.”

“A lesson?” he scoffed, his face still as red as his jacket. You reached up, straightening out his jacket. “Careful, love, any more flustered and your skin will completely blend in with this jacket of yours.” Teasing him seemed a little mean, sure, but he made teasing him simply too easy. Any ounce of attention you gave him went straight to his head. It was cute.

“Well, I think that under all the knives and the mysterious attitude, you’re interested in me too. I mean, you haven’t even tried to kill me yet. Any good pirate would’ve taken their enemy down already.” he smirked, his smirk only growing bigger when he saw the shocked look on your face. He caught you. “Listen, gorgeous. If I let you take me out, will you sod off?”

“Only if you don’t fall magically in love with me, which you will.”

“We’ll see about that one.” you huffed. You were definitely interested, but you weren’t going to let him know that. “Meet me here next Friday at twelve. Bring a towel.” He nodded enthusiastically. “Next Friday, twelve, towel. Got it.”

You cupped his cheeks, holding onto his face so he was looking you in the eye. “I look forward to it. Don’t be late though. I don’t like to be kept waiting.” Pulling away, you gathered your things and left him standing there.

Let the fun begin.

a/n: i think i’m gonna do a part 2, but let me know! i’m sorry it’s a little short, thank you so much for reading MWAH MWAH MWAH

taglist: @skellseerwriting @sleepyking @ljaylmaoo @lesbpotmurdocklokistan @yokolesbianism @eretsupremacy89 @descendantsramblings @thegoddessofnothingness

[inawickedlittletown]

Something Good - 8x01 coda

Read on Ao3

-

“It was a bee-nado,” Evan said. “You should have seen it.” 

“Here’s what I don’t get,” Tommy said, “I make a perfectly good reference to literally any movie and you have no idea what I’m talking about and yet you somehow know about shark-nado?” 

“Shark what?” Evan asked with a laugh. 

Tommy should have actually just known better. Of course Evan had no idea about Shark-nado. 

“The bees were literally in a funnel, weren’t they?” he asked as he pulled into his driveway. 

Evan nodded. “Yeah. Yeah. It was crazy.”

“And they’re still out there,” Tommy said. 

“Yeah,” Evan said. “And they’re angry. Kinda like Chris, I guess.” 

They had left Eddie’s house after Eddie insisted that he’d be alright on his own. That he didn’t need their help to take down the decorations or for the party to become some kind of pity party. Evan had tried to argue and yet in the end they had both realized that maybe Eddie did want to take a moment for himself. 

“He’s a teenager,” Tommy said. 

Evan nodded as they walked into Tommy’s house. “It’s just…it sucks.”

Tommy gave a nod. None of them had thought that Chris would still be in Texas after a whole three months had gone by, but he really was still mad. None of them could blame him for it either, though it probably didn’t help that his grandmother seemed to love having Chris with her. Was she even trying to encourage Chris to forgive his father? The whole thing was murky. 

“Like I told Eddie, he’s trying and when Chris comes around — and he will — he’ll know that the whole time Eddie was trying. That’s…it means something.” 

“Yeah,” Evan said. “It really does, doesn’t it?” 

They had talked about it a little. Evan at least did still have contact with his father even if it seemed to be minimal and mostly conducted over email. Still, Evan understood exactly what Tommy meant. Maybe not in the same way because their fathers were very different. It all came to how they could both agree how good of a father Eddie was in comparison. Not perfect, prone to mistakes, but still a good dad. Chris would come to that conclusion again one day. 

“I think I was hoping for something good to happen tonight,” Evan said as they headed towards the kitchen. 

“Hmm,” Tommy said, “that could still be arranged.” 

Evan laughed and let Tommy grab hold of his hips and pull him closer. He was never going to get enough of Evan. He leaned towards Evan and Evan met him in a kiss, their lips slanting together in what was becoming very familiar but not lacking in how amazing it was. Evan pressed himself even closer together and before Tommy knew it, his back was against a kitchen counter and Evan’s hands were under his shirt inching up slowly, torturously. 

It was a revelation, to know how eager Evan was, to know how much Tommy was wanted by him. He’d been more than a little cautious about how Evan would take to more than kissing, but any fears had been unwarranted. Evan threw himself right in with curiosity and enthusiasm that made up for the places where he lacked experience.

They made it, somehow, up the stairs and to Tommy’s room, clothes getting discarded as they went and then Evan crawled onto the bed, eyes blown wide and his lips parted enticingly as he looked at Tommy. 

“Want you,” Evan said. “Want to feel you.” 

And how could Tommy say no to that? 

[i-starcreamed]

Can you write something with D16 and a human reader please? Maybe like seeing a human for the first time and befriending eachother, then the reader develops feelings because I mean....D16 XD (There is literally nothing of transformers one 😭) PS. I don't know why but I feel like transformers one character at least the miners are closer to human height for some reason 🤣 (sorry for yapping I'm obsessed)

D-16 X READER

Ok so…very unrealistic because yknow, no humans on cybertron. However I made up my own scenario :3 in my mind humans reach about to the knees of mine bots. You’ll make it work..

Human! Reader

Dumb fluff, no sad stuff

Reader is a space explorer who SOMEHOW MAGICALLY managed to successfully land on Cybertron with some of their survival kit intact (food, water, etc). What they didn’t expect was to encounter a train looking vehicle, hopping in it out of curiosity. What they also never expected was the train to start moving at full speed, charging inside of the planet as the crust literally opened up.

Your throat almost went sore because of your screaming.

You shifted, groaning as you sat up from your laying position. God, your head was pounding, what even happened? The ground beneath you was cold and rough, like the texture of popcorn wall if it were made of metal. Around you, you could hear the sound of wheels screeching, metal banging. Whatever you were on was not a smooth ride.

You opened your eyes, your breath hitched as you saw a figure above you. They were looking straight forward, both their hands placed on the edge of the cart. And they were not human. No human is that big.

You swiveled your head around you, seeing a pile of large rocks surrounding you. They were glowing a bright blue, looking quite radioactive. Okay, maybe you and your team expected a tiny bit of life here—but not a whole…whatever this was. You slowly stood up, carefully making your way towards the rock nearest to you. You struggled to move, all the rocks were basically covering your body. The rocks rolled over softly as you lifted an arm.

“Hey there,”

You froze, hearing a deep voice above you. You turned around, eyeing the figure still looking away from you. They looked to their side, mimicking the human expression of curtly smiling and nodding to someone to their right. You sighed in relief.

Placing both your palms on the edge of the cart, you pulled yourself up, letting the rocks fall away from your legs. You peeled your head over the cart, your eyes widening at the life around you. Sooo many robot beings walking around and pushing minecarts, all in different colors and similar size. You let out a small gasp.

D-16 raised a brow, hearing a noise just below him. He did a double take as he saw..something poking out of his cart. He froze. You froze. You both frozed.

“AHH!” You both yelled at the same time, backing away from eachother.

You fall back in between the rocks, probably scraping your back against one. Simotaniously, he bumped into someone’s cart in back of him, he muttered an awkward apology as he hurried along with his cart—he couldn’t let anyone else see this…thing.

He rushed over, taking a sharp turn and away from everyone doing their jobs.

When he stopped, he leaned over his cart to take a good look at you.

“Okay…what! What are you?” He whispered yelled, honestly feeling a bit defensive. You couldn’t blame him, he’s never seen a species like you. Sure, you were smaller. You were about the size of his leg..definitely shorter.

“I uh..I could ask the same thing…” you nervously said.

When you two first met you were very cautious of eachother. You were both scared. I think it took him a while to realize you were from a wholeee different planet. You were a space explorer? That’s cool! He’s definitely going to ask you about cybertrons surface, even though you insist you only saw it for a couple minutes before being kidnapped by a train.

He becomes so interested in you. Eventually, you OF COURSE get introduced to Orion. He had the same reaction, but was equally as intrigued. We all know how much he loves history and learning, they’re both gonna ask so many questions. They do everything to keep you hidden away from other bots, ESPECIALLY DarkWing. Orion has never seen D-16 as enthusiastic about someone as he is about you. (Maybe except for Megatronious)

The three of you are almost always together, but you definitely spend more time with D. Instead of getting rest after a long day in the mines, he takes you around with you sitting atop his shoulder—just talking. Whenever he hears a bot approaching, he quickly snatches you off and holds you behind his back. Definitely not obvious.

Rest in piece to privacy, because you both have NONE! We saw how none of the miners have individual sleeping areas. You have to constantly sneak away—usually it’s places where Orion has taken him. Imagine being taken to their special places :((

You spend longer than you thought on Cybertron, it’s not like you had a choice. Your pod was left on the surface and most definitely scrapped for materials. No one knows who or what and where the mysterious person from the pod is. Lucky you

It’s only logical you begin to fall for D-16. He’s oddly charming, funny, dedicated, and caring. You spend all your time together. He introduced you to his best friend. He tells you about all his plans. Plus, it’s always exciting to go on little trips together, potentially risking getting caught. These trips eventually turn into dates btw

He has definitely called you cute and pet your head with one digit. Yeah that kinda did it, even though he meant it as a tease

You know that scene where the two went racing? They were in first place, they’re exhausted and D got hit. Despite this he grins, looking back at the cameras which he knows are streaming the race. He knows you’re watching all the way from that green light.

“This is for Y/—!!“ he begins, only to be interrupted when a jet zooms past them, knocking them both over and sending them flying. Idiots <3

[jazeswhbhaven]

Falalalala, Michael is Sold~ (Christmas Miracle Card Spoilers|Summary)

Howdy there lovelies, sorry it took me fucking forever to drop this, I've been distracted with Amy and Sitri (which I still need to finish out the last parts of that lmao) But, alas here we go with seeing how things play out with this bratty, brother-complex angel being sold at an auction... To view the prologue parts for the card I already went over HERE YA GO <3

If you've already saw all of that, I'm jumping right in. Same format as Raphael's Summary. As a reminder since the angels are paid banner only per PB's warning I am only allowed to really just paraphrase and heavily summarize his card story instead of the usual reacts I do.

Enough of the boring yapfest let's go lol

First I would like to thank my friend for continuously sharing card content with me. I wouldn't be able to do these things without such blessing, ;w;

Second, I would like to let the public know Michael was my fave at first due to aesthetics only. The pretty black hair, the one wing on the side of his head, but goodness doesn't he have some demons in him. (I want this to be a joke and a literal thing because..)

Anyways

We lead in with Michael being pissed off that he's having his body shown, and everyone is infauted with his skin describing it as porcelian white. So marks show up very easily.

I like the continued theme that every seraph does not show their body to anyone but God.

The bid was high, like 55 million. Makes sense Tarataros is rollin' in dough.

Some important things to note for Michael's card is that unlike his brother Raphael, he made a lot of expressions each time he was touched.

Instead of cursing and vocally trying to say anything, his body is simply reacting as he's thinking about how he shouldn't be showing ANYONE this and that MC needed to be stopped.

We still have the elements of "non-consent" but it seems it's different with Michael. He's wordlessly threatening everyone's demise but he doesn't put up as much of a fight.

MC ofc is getting turned on by everything he's doing

The guests have started masturbating in their seats (imagine being that one person just wanting to be there for the auction and your neighbor just starts jackin' it/flicking the bean. lmao)

Oop. We're punching them in the stomach again. I think that's going to be a reoccurring thing for Gabriel too.

This is interesting...Michael slumped forward? I don't even think Raphael did that. I wonder without his powers poor Mike is possibly the weakest? He seemed to be the most powerful aside from Lucifer.

Michael is and has been getting turned on by the way since MC started touching him. He doesn't understand, but I'm like...my guy you almost came when your brother plucked out your eye I know what you are....

Now I don't remember if Raphael was branded, but Michael is branded for the auction. His halo starts glowing around this time too. Again I know what you are.

Also, Michael is so pissed off and horny random objects are shattering and he's basically crying buckets. Also his emotions are affecting the weather too. Neat.

Alright so now he's really upset. He doesn't want MC to touch his cock because it's only for God to see and touch. He was not doing much before but he's definitely putting up a fight now.

Even auctioneer was like "Uh head for the decks folks he may cave the walls in on us" and everyone was like "Nah, stfu" like damn ya'll really want that angel bussy.

So as common theme of sounding continues...as you guessed Michael gets a metal rod stuck in his pee hole and well he's losing his mind ya'll.

I bet he would like being called a good boy by his favorite person...

Anyways, after all the poking and probing from MC it appears that he only needs the rod stroking the inside of his cock for him to get to his climax. Nothing anally is being done to him for his story.

So after he cums he basically leaves in a beam of light. The other devils came on him too. They say though that he left wordlessly he stared at MC as if he wanted to say something. Interesting.

Though that's over and done with, basically the end of the story are the devil's bidding on MC's tormenting as if that's something to bid on lmao but Mammon was like yah 10 billion and it's being donated for the end of the year party in MC's name. What's cute though is that MC is referred to as His/Her Majesty along with Mammon. It's like his citizens shipped them already.

ANDDDD that's all folks. That's Michael's Christmas Story. If you want my blunt opinion????

5/10

I'm sorry ya'll, this card story wasn't really worth the money for Michael fans. It falls short in terms of what's done to him, he kinda just sat there for the majority of it until his cock was touched, and he just kinda poofs back home without confirming any feelings whether negative or positive towards MC like how we see in Raphael's card.

However, I did like the elements of Michael being able to withstand being touched and stayed still for the most part. This has me believe something that I will explain in my theories below. Also in adore mode you can play with his tiny head wing, like pulling on it and such. Wings are sensitive I imagine so it's a fun element.

THEORY TIME

I want to say that I think Michael didn't put up much of a fight because to him any other part of his body being touched, though it hasn't been touched by anyone before...is not that big of a deal to him and perhaps he's had these feelings faintly but just didn't push himself to explore that any further.

Now also, we note that his chastity belt was not removed by MC. I feel that the reason this did not happen is because Michael has 0 feelings for MC and thus the miracle didn't extend to that possibility. Now to compare with Rara's card...maybe during the event he started feeling things for MC, curiosity, and some kind of need for them, in that moment perhaps he felt as if this is what God wanted for him so he gave in 110%.

Michael resisted feeling that way for MC, because he simply did not want those feelings. He just wanted to experience being in pleasure only. Because perhaps...those feelings are deep for "someone else" that keeps getting implied ._. But anyways. That's more for those who ship that to go about, I personally do not lol (brother complex is brother complex)

I also think that perhaps the relationship between MC and Rara is meant to build more than the other two seraph angels. I'll just have to see Gabe's card and see what we're working with. I do not have a prologue for him because he was in the Nightmare Pass only last time....I wonder how they will pan out his story and what differences I will notice.

As always thank you lovelies for tuning in ^^ see you in the next react <3

[spacebaby1]

hiiii can i get one of rindou x reader where they’re a lil highschool couple & how rindou shows affection and cute moments like that 🤭 i just loveee the highschool sweethearts trope

Rindou, my sweet, gentle baby. He's the best lover boy out there, and no one Change my mind on that. And I want to write more of these 🤭💕

"Relax, she's not a little baby. She's won't go missing walking to school." Ran laughed at how his little brother was anxiously waiting for his girlfriend; you by the gate, "she's my baby!" Rindou whispered back. Ran tapped his brother on the shoulder, "I'm going inside it's cold here." Rindou nodded, still looking ahead. He had asked you multiple times to let him walk with you to school, but you kept saying that you don't want him to walk too much since he lived on the other side of school than you. Few minutes went by and in distance he saw you happily walking, your smile grew wide when you waved at him and he jogged the little distance towards you rushing to gather you in his arms as you giggled hugging him, "wooh, what's gotten into you?"

"UGH, I just missed you." He squeezed you in the hug before letting go and intertwined his fingers with your as you two walked, "but I literally saw you yesterday," you chuckled. "Too long!" He kissed your knuckles before smiling wide as you two entered the school.

Everyone around you two saw how you both were madly in love from the way you both acted; always finding each other, always had his arm around you and held you closer or the way he smiled at you.

It was one of the school days when you asked him “What happens after graduation?” you asked, an uncharacteristic hint of worry in your tone that Rindou noticed as you had your head resting on his shoulder.

Rindou playfully shrugged his shoulder making you look up at him, a concern mingling with affection in his gaze. “We’ll figure it out. I can’t imagine my life without you, Y/N,” he reassured you, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your hair. “Wherever we end up, we’ll be together and forever.”

His words made your heart swell with hope, but doubt tugged at the edges of your mind.

Dates were something Rindou enjoyed planning for you and the on your face and the joy melted his heart over every date he planned for you. He had planned a fancy date at the beach, it was the sweetest date and he was absolutely in love from the way he was staring at you.

Later that night when you two were just starting at the sky sitting in embrace as he played with your fingers. He gave you the softest kiss on your forehead before kneeling before you and smiled wide before pulling out a small box from his pocket. Your eyes widened in surprise.

As he opened the box, there lay a simple silver Ring that was the most beautiful ring you ever saw “I want you to carry a piece of me with you, no matter where life takes us,” he said, his voice almost a whisper, reverberating with sincerity. “This is a promise that you will always have my heart.”

Your eyes glistened with unshed tears. “Rindou…” overwhelmed by the depth of his words you giggled as He slipped the ring onto her finger, and in that moment, you two sealed your love with a kiss that tasted of promises and unspoken vows. "I thought you were about to propose," you laughed at your own words making his cheeks blues and he chuckled before you hugged him and stared up at him, "do you like the idea of us being married?" He blushed even more. "I'd love to be your forever whenever we are both older and ready. I love you with my whole heart and give you the world." You rested your head on his chest, "you're my world, Rin."

[yourladyem]

Beetlejuice 3 Story Idea

Delores and Rory plan to kidnap Lydia for a special Afterlife sacrifice that would give Dolores power over the Living and immortal beauty without the scars of her death. She uses her power of manipulation to trick Rory into believing she loves him and says the ceremony is for Rory to take Beetlejuice's place in her heart as her immortal partner/lover. But secretly it would bind Beetlejuice to her forever and give her the power she desires to return to the Living.

Beetlejuice, Astrid, and Delia team up to save Lydia. Lydia tries calling for Beetlejuice but Delores blocks her ability. Beetlejuice is the one who notices their connection is severed which causes him to reach out to Astrid for help after finding Delia who also notices her connection to Lydia was also cut. They realize none of them can get a hold of her. But Beetlejuice does figure out he can still contact her through a dream it's a connection with bizarre elements but doable for them.

They could travel through something like Dante's Inferno and Beetlejuice could brag that he literally went through Hell and back for the woman he loves.

No contract this time. No forced wedding. He just does it risking everything for her. But no one realizes it until after they save Lydia who starts questioning his motives immediately after she reunites with them after she found a way to escape. Clues in the dreams he sends her. Beetlejuice sacrifices himself to save her solely out of true love.

Lydia escapes and meets everyone just outside the gates of the sacrificial sanctuary. But her body starts illuminating. She doesn't have much time. They all reunite. Beetlejuice heads for the Hellish sanctuary with fire all around them. Lydia goes after him.

"What's going to happen to you?" Lydia asks.

"I'm giving her what she wants so you can go free?"

"What's the catch? Another bizarre wedding? For a third time? You know you could have asked someone for your Afterlife Green Card. Don't tell me you tricked Astrid into something!"

He sadly smiles at her outburst. He places an ancient sealed scroll in her hands. He holds her hands for a moment and she doesn't pull away. He cups her face and looks deep into her eyes.

"Even after this time you still haven't figured it out."

She doesn't move away when he kisses her pulling her into his arms. Before she knows it, she's kissing him back.

He lets her go.

"I love you, Lydia." Before she can say anything, he runs towards the sanctuary. Lydia is left stunned watching him disappear into the blazing fires confronting Delores for a final stand off as Delia and Astrid pull her away as they escape.

They make it back to the graveyard outside the church through the same exit Richard showed them. It's a beautiful peaceful day.

Astrid and Delia are delighted the nightmare is over. Lydia stumbles towards the bench in front of the crypt and plots down still reeling from the events.

She looks down at the scroll. With shaky hands, she breaks the seal that is bound with a thin ribbon of red lace. Very familiar red lace. Gold lettering appears on the page.

It's a contract. But not just any contact.

Delia and Astrid join her. Delia sits beside her asking her what's wrong. She's unable to speak and hands the scroll to Astrid, who reads it.

The contract states he willingly traded his Afterlife for her life solely on the basis of true love and selfless sacrifice. No mutual trade-off except her freedom.

Lydia bursts into tears at the surprise of Delia and Astrid and even herself. Delia comforts her.

"Let me guess. You love him too." Delia smirks. Lydia just cries even more. After decades of denial, Lydia finally accepts the truth but now it's too late. Delia just holds her.

"Well, this explains so much, believe it or not. Still. Even after all the hell we went through with him, still better than Rory."

Astrid smirks in agreement. She started liking him too. He wasn't all bad. He was obviously crazy about her mother and now she knew the extent of it.

Time passes.

Lydia is never truly the same again. She checks the mail at the old Deetz home seeing the postcard from Astrid saying she's having a great time in Brazil with her college friends. She talks with Delia and goes through the rest of the mail finding an old folded-up piece of paper stuck to the back of one of the envelopes. She opens it up and it's an old flyer.

Missing the love of your life? Can't live without someone? Realizing you've made a terrible mistake pushing them away?

Same my name 3Xs.

"No way." Delia states

"It can't be." Lydia whispers. They stare at each other. Oh why not.

Beetlejuice.

Beetlejuice.

Beetlejuice.

Nothing.

They head for the foyer. Still nothing.

"Ok. He's not exactly one for subtly. Where is he?" Delia demands placing her fist on her hips. "Where are you! Great. Even I'm starting to miss him."

"The attic." Lydia concludes. They race towards the stairs when a knock comes at the front door.

They freeze. Lydia runs for the front door. A very attractive man with peach fuzz grayish/white hair and very striking familiar eyes smirks at her.

"Miss me, Honeycakes?"

Lydia feels their connection reform. His old self flashes before her then morphs back to the man in front of her. Lydia's jaw drops for more than one reason. "You..."

"It's me. The Juice in the flesh." He grins striking his signature pose.

"It's you?" Lydia finally manages to form a sentence.

"It's me, Lydia." Still grinning.

"It's really you?"

"Mmm hmm."

Her eyes crack in anger. "I'm going to kill you!" She screams charging at him. His smirk drops and bolts for the yard with her not far on his tail.

"Lydia! Lydia! Now wait a minute, Honey!" He keeps screaming at her as she continues trying to grab hold of him.

Delia watches from the porch with headless Charles. "She's going to marry him, isn't she?" She continues watching Lydia's game of murder tag.

"She wouldn't. Would she?" Headless Charles chimes in. Blood spewing out.

"Yes, she would. Still better than Rory, though."

Back in the yard, BJ twists away from his Gothic assailant. "Honey! Honey! Lydia! Babe! Stop!"

"Why? Why should I! Do you know what you put me through?! How are you even alive? How do you look like that?!"

"Did you read the scroll I gave you?"

"Yes!"

He laughs enjoying her irritation catching his breath.

"Then that's all you need to know. I thought it was pretty obvious. I thought it was obvious a long time ago."

She swallows the rising emotion.

"I traded my life for yours that granted me freedom from the Afterlife. Yes, I traded in my good looks for this." Pointing to himself. "Even sacrificing my luscious blonde locks but it was a sacrifice I was willing to make to help the woman I love. Again."

She shoulders sag. She looks at him with guilty eyes.

"Since I died on my wedding night - murdered by a death cultist actually who tricked me into marrying her for my soul - only if I selflessly sacrificed myself to save a person out of pure love I would be freed from my death sentence and could return to the Living and Delores would have no power over me again and she couldn't hurt the person I loved. Didn't think it would ever happen until I met you. By the way she is gone for good. Rory too by the way."

Lydia smiles a little. "So not someone else? Why me? You could have had someone else and gotten your Green Card marrying someone else or sacrificing yourself for someone else?"

"Yes, I could have. Even tried a few times before meeting you. But they weren't you. It was always you. It was always going to be us. And despite your best efforts, you've known that too. You can't stop this. You can delay it but never truly stop it. And you knew that too."

She bites her lip.

So," He pulls out a ring from one of his pockets. "What do you say, Honey? Will you marry for real this time? Third time's the charm." He grins.

She bites back the growing tears and nods. He slides the ring on her finger.

"Ok but no take back this ti-" She cuts him off with a rough kiss.

"Called it." Delia smiles. Charles digs into his pocket and hands her some cash.

Beetlejuice and Lydia break the kiss. Lydia smacks his chest.

"Ow!"

"I love you but don't ever do this to me again! That's for the literal Hell you put me through! Including not answering me when I called for you. I know you heard me!"

And they're back to arguing.

"Yeah, that marriage is going to last forever." Delia shakes her head. "Just like us." She turned to Charles.

Third wedding and they're finally married for real. Vows exchanged and he kisses his bride.

"I just have one question." Lydia whispers. "What is your real name?"

"Well it's actually B-"

Bam! Black screen and credits roll

[karlachismylife]

Don't You Forget About Me

Since @killerpancakeburger already had the most perfect Soap idea with this prompt, I decided to sit and think: what would be the situation where Soap actually didn't wanna kiss? Mission imposible?

Well, I might've found the solution.

CW: reader is Soap's mother (literally), so (potentially bad) Scottish yelling and scolding, very silly and unserious, not even pretending to be realistic.

(Title fom a song by Simple Minds)

You were going to give him a piece of your mind alright. He had always been a troublemaker, the sole source of white and grey peppered in your respectable hairbun, but the bare minumum you expected from your eejit of a son was to take your words seriously when you asked not to go to that mission. That one mission, mind you, out of every crazy and dangerous endeavour your Johnny got up to since before he could walk properly (although he skipped the phase entirely, immediately opting to run) - you always supported him and tried to be understanding.

You flicked his nose when he came home dirty after playing football in the rain and prepared warm dinner while he cleaned himself and washed his own clothes like a good boy. You sighed and ruffled what was left of his hair the day he returned with that moronic haircut, beaming like the sun itself. You slapped upside his head and scolded him before pulling out his favourite out of the oven after he was kicked out from whatever military base he tried to sneak into to be like his cousin.

Johnny could call you strict, scary and warn all his mates of you with a shit-eating grin all he wanted, but you were sure you had never given him a reason to believe you would worry over nothing.

"Dinnae fash yersel, Mam," was all you got after a hearfelt and arguemented plea to stay away from trouble this time, along with a kiss on a cheek, and there he went.

Not so fast, John MacTavish.

Of course he got his stubborness and determination to get whatever he wanted from you. The amount of times he ran off before he was of age just to try his luck and get enlisted? The clenching of his proud Scottish jaw as he pushed himself to do better, lift heavier, shoot sharper, run faster? Once Johnny was set on something, he went all-in. Too bad sitting still and quiet in school never got to be one of his priorities even for a week. But that's how you raised him, and if anyone could match him, it was you.

You were suprised how easy it was to bully and bribe your way into the base. Just an unthreatening older woman with some home-cooked pie, already sliced up for the sweet, sweet boys at the entrance.

Och, yer Ma' usually bakes these too? 'N' wi' some carrot? Ye should ask her fur a recipe, leannan, Ah will lea' ye mines sae we can exchange. Ah actually hae mah laddie right there oan th' base, he's a sergeant, aye, mah muckle laddie. Ah wanted tae surprise him wi' his fave', bit didnae ken tis sae secreteve 'ere… Mibbie ye could pass it tae him? Och but it'll get cauld 'n' nasty… Och, ye will let me in fur a few minutes? Well aren't ye th' sweetest wee jimmies. Yer Mams must be proud o' ye, Ah ken Ah'm, knowing such mighty lads are protecting us.

Breaching the first line of defence was a piece of cake - well, pie. The second went even smoother, no one paying attention to you as you simply floated along the perimeter, avoiding miscellaneous looks from busy officers and privates bustling about their day. Hiding in plane sight, not even trying to blend in - you minced in your old trusty shoes up to the big area with several aircrafts scattered around.

Aha. That's your goal. You adjusted your purse on your shoulder and moved to continue your way, when someone finally noticed your unwanted presence.

"Is that a... who the hell let a civilian in the landing zone? Oi! M'am! M'am, stop! M'am, you're not supposed to be here!"

Hearing someone's heavy steps picking up behind your back, you kept your steady stride for a few more moments, eyes scanning the vast plane of the zone, determined to find at least someone you knew - and they you hit jackpot. Loud thumping of helicopter blades, distant at first, grew rapidly, almost deafening at the point when someone's heavy hand grabbed your elbow.

"M'am, are you lost? It's dangerous here! DAN-GE-ROUS!" The officer yelled into your ear, probably both hoping to overpower the landing helicopter and thinking you were old, frail and deaf.

Such a naive lad.

That metal bird barely stopped chirping before you wriggled out of the officer's grasp and sprinted towards several tall figures unloading from the helo. Your target stood straight, big headphones denting his ruffled mohawk, already up for a trimming. He definitely heard the officer's loud yelling, turned around, curious as ever, and locked eyes with you - all laughter wiped off his face immediately, baby blues he inherited from you round and popping out of their sockets.

"Mam?! Wha' are ye doin'-" - "JOHN MACTAVISH! Dinnae "mam" me, ye reckless bampot! Ah didnae raise ye tae be a sleekit potatoe waving yer own mother off!"

You jumped away from the officer who almost caught up with you and used your purse to shield yourself from him, never losing pale and positively terrified and dumbfounded Johnny out of sight.

"Get awa' from me, ye eejit, that's mah son 'n' Ah'm talking tae him! Look at me, Johnny!" You finally reached him and tilted your stern face up, glaring at yout sheepish son. His eyes stopped darting around and snapped directly at you. Still a good boy, after all. "Dae ye hae any idea how worried Ah was? Come 'ere now or Ah will drag ye by yer scruff, Ah swear. Come 'ere!"

You reached up to cup hus face, noticing a fresh bruise and a split brow, your motherly heart aching, but still proud that your wee boy came back from a dangerous operation alive. With teary eyes, you tried to pull him in for a big forgiving smooch, but he finally unfroze and pulled back, slowly starting to go red in his cheeks - so his ears must have been burning for some time already. Still, you looked at him, outraged, and huffed, propping one hand on your hip.

"What? Ah wanntae kiss mah laddie!" You could see Johnny's face flush brighter, mortified expression cut into his pleading eyebrows. He shouldn't have been doing that, that nasty scar was bleeding hardeer, your poor wee boy.

"''ere?! Richt naew?!" Before you could even start scolding him for denying his own mother such a simple thing, someone else's rich voice cut in through barely suppressed laughter.

"Come on, Johnny, tha's no way to talk to your mother. Be a good boy 'n' give 'er a big kiss." Recognizing Ghost from your laddie's tales wasn't hard at all - you met his dark, hooded eyes and gave him a firm, grateful nod, which he reciprocated with a gruff chuckle.

Defeated, Johnny leaned down, sliding his headphones down to his neck, and didn't even hiss as you yanked him by his ear lower to give him a loud, loving smooch on his cheek.

On the way out they sourced four big lads to escort you. As if the whole army would be able to stop you if you decided to give your son a proper whooping.

[shybluebirdninja]

Logan vs. The Cooking Show

Summary: You convince Logan to participate in a local cooking show, thinking his rugged charm will win over the audience. But when he gets confused by the fancy ingredients and modern cooking techniques, hilarity ensues. From mixing up salt and sugar to accidentally using his claws to slice vegetables, it’s a disaster. But as the chaos unfolds, his genuine determination to impress you makes it all the more endearing.

Pairing             : Wolverine!Logan Howlett x Female!Human-reader

Genre              : Fluff

It was just another Saturday morning when you stumbled across the flyer. The local cooking show was holding auditions, and they were looking for “unique personalities” to compete. You couldn’t help but picture Logan strutting around the kitchen, his rugged charm mixed with culinary chaos.

“Logan, you gotta do this,” you said, waving the flyer in his face as he grunted in response, trying to sip his coffee like he wasn’t about to face the biggest disaster of his life.

“Hell no. I don’t do cooking shows,” he replied, glaring at you over the rim of his mug. His eyes narrowed, as if you had just suggested a cage fight with a grizzly bear.

“But think about it! You could totally win this thing! Just imagine the viewers swooning over the tough guy who can cook.” You leaned in, your excitement bubbling over. “They’ll eat it up! Literally!”

Logan rolled his eyes. “Sweetheart, I can barely boil water without blowin’ it up. I’m not about to set foot in a kitchen with cameras.”

You smirked, leaning closer. “But I’d be there. I’d help. And you know you wanna show off for me.”

He hesitated, his resolve faltering. “Show off? For you? Please.” But the slightest twitch at the corner of his lips told you he was already halfway in.

“C’mon! What’s the worst that could happen? It’ll be fun!”

Logan grumbled under his breath, running a hand through his hair like he was trying to shake off the impending doom. “Fine. But if I end up in the hospital because I burn something, I’m blaming you.”

“Deal!” You grinned, fist-pumping in victory.

The day of the cooking show arrived, and Logan looked like he was gearing up for a battle rather than a cooking competition. He wore his usual plaid shirt, but somehow, he managed to look even grumpier than usual.

The kitchen was set up with an array of ingredients and utensils that Logan clearly had never seen in his life. You stood beside him, trying to ignore the fact that the cameras were rolling, capturing every moment of Logan’s impending culinary disaster.

“Okay, Logan,” you said, pointing to a table full of fancy ingredients. “What do you want to make?”

He frowned, his gaze darting around like he was on a treasure hunt for something he recognized. “What the hell is ‘quinoa’? Is that some kinda birdseed?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “No, it’s a grain. It’s healthy!”

“Healthy, huh? Yeah, I’d rather have a steak,” he muttered, scowling as if the very thought of quinoa was an insult to his manliness.

As the show host introduced the challenge—a gourmet take on classic comfort food—Logan stared at the ingredients with a mixture of confusion and determination.

“Alright, let’s get this over with,” he grumbled, grabbing a knife.

You watched in horror as he picked up the knife, not quite realizing how he was gripping it. “Logan, you might wanna be careful with—”

Slash!

The knife went flying, landing with a clatter on the floor. Logan blinked, eyes wide. “Shit! I didn’t mean to do that.”

You snorted, trying not to laugh. “It’s just a knife, Logan. Don’t go all Wolverine on it.”

He glared at you, muttering something under his breath. “Can’t believe I’m doing this…”

As the challenge progressed, it became clear that Logan had zero clue how to handle any of the ingredients. He picked up a jar labeled “sea salt” and held it like it was a grenade.

“Wait—what’s the difference between salt and sugar?” he asked, looking genuinely confused.

You facepalmed. “Logan, seriously? Just taste it. You know what salt is!”

He unscrewed the cap and took a whiff, immediately making a face like he’d just bitten into a lemon. “Goddamn! This stuff smells like the ocean.”

“You’re supposed to sprinkle it in the dish, not huff it,” you said, laughing.

As he tried to sprinkle it over his mix of questionable ingredients, he accidentally poured half the jar into the bowl. You winced, anticipating the explosion of flavor that was about to hit everyone’s taste buds.

“Too much?” he asked, watching the white crystals pile up like a snowstorm.

“Uh, yeah. Just a tad,” you said, biting back laughter. “You might want to add a little bit of everything, not a whole freakin’ mountain.”

“Whatever. It’s all goin’ in,” he grunted, throwing in a handful of something else—was it cilantro?—and mixing it all together with an enthusiasm that was borderline terrifying.

When it came time to chop vegetables, the real fun began. Logan, who usually sliced through enemies like a hot knife through butter, was clearly out of his element. He tried to use his claws, only for you to shout, “No! Use the knife!”

“Fine! But if I end up slicing my hand off, I swear to God…”

“Just focus!” You could barely contain your laughter as he awkwardly maneuvered the knife, managing to barely chop a tomato without sending it flying across the kitchen.

“You know, I should’ve just brought a steak and called it a day,” he muttered, glaring at the tomatoes like they had personally offended him.

“Or you could make a steak with the tomatoes as a side. Just think of it as... ‘Logan’s Special’,” you suggested, grinning.

He shot you a look that said he’d rather face a hundred Sentinels than create a culinary masterpiece, but he sighed and went back to chopping, albeit a bit more carefully this time.

As the clock ticked down, the chaos reached new heights. Logan, sweating bullets, was trying to juggle too many things at once. He’d put the quinoa on to boil but had completely forgotten about it.

“Crap! The quinoa!” he yelled, running to the stove.

The pot was bubbling over, and steam was shooting out like a geyser. Logan slapped the lid on it, but not before a little bit of the grain spilled over the counter.

“Great. Just great. I’m gonna be cleaning this shit up for weeks,” he grumbled, glancing at the camera crew, who were barely containing their laughter.

“Just breathe, Logan. You’ve got this!” you encouraged, fighting back your own giggles.

“Yeah, I got this. Just me, a million ingredients I don’t understand, and a kitchen that’s about to explode,” he shot back, his hands moving in a way that clearly demonstrated his rising panic.

Finally, with only minutes left on the clock, Logan frantically assembled his “gourmet” dish. You couldn’t help but notice the sheer determination in his eyes, even as he nearly dumped an entire bottle of balsamic vinegar over everything.

“What the hell are you doing?!” you shouted, rushing over.

“It said to drizzle!” he protested, shaking the bottle like it was a ketchup dispenser.

“Drizzle, not drown! You’re gonna ruin it!”

He paused, a sheepish grin breaking through his frustration. “Guess I’m a little too enthusiastic, huh?”

“Just a bit,” you chuckled, rolling your eyes but appreciating his effort. “Just finish up, we’ve got seconds left.”

With one final flurry of chaos, he plated his “masterpiece.” It looked like a mess, but you could see the glimmer of pride in his eyes.

“Ta-da!” he exclaimed, holding up the plate like it was the Holy Grail.

You clapped your hands, genuinely impressed. “Not bad, tough guy. Not bad at all.”

“Yeah, well, if it sucks, I’m blaming you,” he said, crossing his arms, though you could tell he was trying to hide a smile.

The judges took their first bites, and you held your breath, half-expecting them to spit it out. But as they chewed, their eyes widened, and one of them exclaimed, “Wow! This is... surprisingly good!”

Logan blinked, clearly shocked. “Wait, what? Seriously?”

“Yeah! The flavors are... interesting. It’s like you combined everything perfectly!” another judge chimed in.

Logan’s face was a mix of disbelief and pride. “No way. You’re messin’ with me, right?”

“Honestly, you’ve got talent!” one judge said, smiling brightly.

You could hardly contain your laughter. “Told you so, Wolverine! Who knew you had hidden culinary skills?”

“Yeah, well, don’t expect me to make this a habit. I still prefer rare meat,” he replied, scratching his head. But there was a glimmer of triumph in his eyes.

As the show wrapped up, Logan was still riding high on the unexpected praise. “I can’t believe I didn’t burn the place down,” he said, shaking his head.

“You did great! I mean, apart from almost turning the kitchen into a disaster zone,” you teased.

“Whatever. I think I might’ve actually surprised myself,” he admitted, a genuine smile creeping onto his face.

“And me!” you added, nudging him playfully. “You might just have a future in the culinary world.”

“Only if it involves steaks and beer,” he said, shooting you a wink.

You leaned in closer, resting your head on his shoulder. “Hey, if you ever want to cook for me again, I’m totally down for it. Just maybe stick to simpler recipes next time?”

“Deal. But you’re doing the prep work,” he smirked, wrapping an arm around you. As you walked out together, the warmth of his embrace felt just right. You chuckled, thinking about the day’s chaos, and how it had only brought you closer. In the midst of cooking disasters and laughter, you found a little more of Logan’s soft side than you ever expected.

[dullgecko]

omfg you can't stop there with the neck-touching story, i'm so invested. the aftermath, i beg of you. did riz isolate himself/hide from his friends in shame after the fact? how did fabian react? did he blame riz? blame himself? were the bad kids able to coax riz back into the party after his self-imposed isolation?

Fabian had been completely blindsided by the sudden attack. Not literally, thank Cas, Rizs hands were small enough that he'd only torn up the half elfs cheek with his claws before stopping. As it was Fabian had felt him hit bone and had flinched away to cradle the sudden ragged hole in his cheek while the rogue hissed and put distance between them.

He felt Kristen's magic cut through the white hot pain after only a second. Flesh knitting back together in an instant and leaving no trace of the attack save for the heat on his skin and the blood in his mouth. He spat what was remaining onto the ground to join the pool of blood that had spilled there, turning his head when Kristen touched his face to let her check she hadn't missed anything.

"What the fuck The Ball. Claws are taking it a little far don't you think?" The half elf pushed himself to sit upright rather than remaining in his hunched position. His brief spike of anger at the attack fading when he noticed their rogue was gone.

"The Ball? Did anyone see where he went?"

There had been a quick search, each of them splitting up to go check his usual hiding spots in the house before reconvening in the living room. Adaine crouching to clean the blood off the carpet while Fig pulled out her crystal to see if they could find any clues.

She'd been recording while Fabian and Riz tousled on the floor, her cystal propped up on a side table as the teifling cheering Riz on. Whooping when he 'pinned' Fabian to the ground and settled into a cross legged position on his chest in victory. He had clearly been having fun, ears high and alert and tail flicking in a way they knew meant 'happy' as he mock clawed at Fabians face. He had his fingers curled in such a way that he was only batting their fighter in the face with his knuckles though so Fig was confused as to how Riz had clawed the half elf.

It had all happened so quickly that she'd assumed that Riz clawed him first THEN Fabian pinned him to the floor. The video showed otherwise though. Their rogue laughing even as their positions were flipped RIGHT up until the point Fabians completed the pin with his hand around the goblins throat.

The flip from smiling to terror had been almost instant, the video clear enough that they could see his pupils contract to slits even as he full force raked his claws across Fabians face. The goblin scrambling out of the cameras field of view when he was released. Thankfully they had still been recording even as everyone lept to check on Fabian where he was groaning on the floor. They could very audibly hear the front door slamming shut while Kristen was healing Fabian in the footage.

"Fuck dude did you kneel on his tail or something? I think you really hurt him."

Fabian shook his head, eye going wide as he watched the footage over Figs shoulder. A yawning pit of guilt opening in his stomach as she rewound it a few time to watch again and try and work out why Riz had flipped out. If he was hurt they needed to help him but he tended to hide injuries up until the point he couldn't function and they forced help on him.

"We need to go find him."

---------

Riz was in such a panic that he didn't have a plan beyond 'put distance between me and everyone else as fast as possible'. The door slammed shut behind him and he briefly contemplated booking it down the driveway but The Hangman was chasing pigeons about halfway down and Riz had just attacked its master.

He went right instead, rounding the side of the house to cut through the cemetery and find somewhere to hide. He'd never done something like this before and he was terrified. Both of himself because he couldn't remember the attack AND of the consequences.

Sure he'd nipped and scratched his friends before but he very rarely drew blood, and even then it was only usually a pinprick. He obviously hadn't held back this time, the evidence drying on his claws and face from where it had dripped on him before he scrambled free.

What would they think of him now? That he was as dangerous and violent as what people always said goblins were? Would they deal with him the same way they usually dealt with people that attacked them? He'd fled the house completely unarmed and he didnt even grab his briefcase before leaving. Hell, without his sword he didn't even have an advantage when hiding right now.

Riz stopped in the middle of the cemetery, crouching behind a large headstone just off the path so he could hide and collect his thoughts. The goblin whining as he tried to wipe the blood off his hand onto the grass but found that the vast majority of it had dried and wasn't coming free.

He realised he hadn't picked the best hiding spot but he couldn't muster the energy to care. Riz curling into a smaller ball and pressing his face against his knees, arms and tail alike looping around his ankles as he tried very hard to pretend he didn't exist anymore. So what if they found him, maybe he deserved whatever punishment they saw fit.

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

Riz wasn't sure how long he'd been sitting outside whe he heard the first footsteps approaching. He'd let himself retreat fully into his own mind as he tried to work out what exactly had happened and kept coming up empty. The rogue didn't even move when his crystal started ringing in his pocket, Fabian obviously trying to call him since he was the only person not set to mute.

Riz shifted to cover his head with his arms when the footsteps rapidly got closer, hoping to at least protect what he could if they were mad even if he didn't make an effort to run. The last time he clawed someone like this was in middle school and he'd spent weeks hiding the broken ribs from his mom after the kids friends had gotten their shots in.

"I've found him." He heard Fabian shout, though the sound was muffled with his arms shielding his head. The goblin whining and trying to curl up more when he felt hands gently try to pry his arms away.

"Riz? Fuck. Are you okay? I'm sorry. Hey..."

Riz relaxed slightly when the expected blows didn't come, letting the fighter untangle his arms and gently inspect his hand because it was still covered in dry blood. He did yank his tail away from his hand when he tried to inspect it as well though, tucking it up behind himself out of grabbing range and hissing into his own knees.

"Can you look at me? Are you hurt?"

Fabian still had a grip on both of his hands, thumbs pressing into his palms as he kneaded at the soft tissue there. Riz let him continue for a few more seconds before withdrawing his hands from his grip and wrapping them around his chest. Lifting his head to peek at the fighters concerned face which he was relieved was all in one piece.

"I'm sorry. I don't know what happened." Riz said quietly, dipping his ears back in show of contrition.

"What happened was you clawed the shit out of me." Fabian scoffed, reaching forwards to coax Riz to sit up further so he could see his face properly, the half-elf licking his thumb to try and get some of the dried blood off the goblins cheek. The act making Riz screw his face up in a way that made Fabian laugh. "I think it was my fault though. I apologise."

"What? No I attacked you I'm-" He froze, claws digging into his vest as the half elfs hand hovered close to his throat. Fabian making a face as if he'd just made a point before withdrawing carefully.

"No I'm quite sure it was my fault." Fabian shifted to sit next to the rogue instead, bringing a knee up to rest his arm on as he looked out over the cemetary. "Fig was filming and I can tell when someone gets triggered. My father used to get the same way sometimes... Do you think you're up to coming back inside?"

Riz shook his head, leaning forwards to hide his face against his knees again and sighing loudly. Leaning against Fabians side when his friend draped his arm over him and pulled him in to sit a little closer.

"Alright. I'll stay out here with you for a while then."

[chewysgummies]

As I make myself a new gif of killbot 86, HE LITERALLY TURNED HIS LITTLE PUPIL AROUND HIS HEAD LIKE HOW OWL TURN THEIR HEAD AROUND!!! HOLY SHITTTT-

[brinkle-brackle]

✨️trouble with a capital t✨️

hi hello fellow trekkies please hear me out

[rieamena]

"mama!"

your seven year old daughter climbed onto your bed, bouncing on the mattress before settling into your warm embrace under the blankets. running a hand through her pink hair, you answered softly, "yes, sweetheart?"

it was almost like your genes didn't put up a fight at all. your child, chikara, was the spitting image of her father, your husband, ryomen sukuna. same hair, same face shape, same facial features, the only thing that seemed to be your contribution was her personality, and even then, sometimes you'll see your husband's characteristic scowl on her little face

"how did you and daddy meet?" "well, it was–"

"what's goin' on in here? conspiring against me?" sukuna's voice filled the room as he leaned against the door frame, a cheeky smirk on his face. you saw your daughter's face brighten up as she jumped down to run to her father, "daddy! daddy! mommy's gonna tell the story of when you first met!" sukuna immediately looked at you, his index finger barely being fully wrapped by his daughter's hand

"she asked me to. guess watching all those romantic dramas with her rubbed off on her." you giggled, earning a scowl from him. "shut it woman. you know i hate them." "yeah..., that's definitely why we watch 90 day fiance every sunday together." "you got a problem with— stop tryna move me brat!"

"but daddyyyyy," she whined, still pushing against sukuna's body, "i don't wanna miss mommy's story!" "we're literally seven feet away from her."

your daughter pouted and stopped trying to get her dad to move. letting go of his finger, and leaving him at the doorway, chikara plopped herself down at your side with wide, eager eyes, "go on, mommy, tell me! i wanna know everything."

you smiled, looking at sukuna, who rolled his eyes but gave a small nod. "alright, sweetheart. it all started one day in the park when i was watching over megumi, and your dad was taking care of his younger brother, yuuji…"

"yuuji?" chikara interrupted, her face lighting up. "uncle yuuji was there too?"

"yep, yuuji was just a little kid back then," you said with a soft laugh. "he was running around, being his usual energetic self, when he tripped and scraped his knee. your dad, being the great caretaker he is—"

"—i was plenty good at it," sukuna muttered

you shot him a look and continued, "—didn't seem too worried. he told yuuji to stop crying."

"i did not say it like that," sukuna cut in, pushing off the doorframe and coming closer to the bed. "i told him to toughen up. gotta learn how to handle a few scrapes."

your daughter giggled, clearly entertained by the back-and-forth. "but mommy's a nurse, so she went over to help, right?"

"exactly. i couldn't just sit there watching, so i went over, knelt down, and started cleaning yuuji's knee. and i told your father—" you paused, giving sukuna a mischievous smile, "—that he should care more about his son instead of telling him to stop crying."

your daughter gasped dramatically, eyes wide with anticipation. sukuna groaned, running a hand over his face. "i knew you'd bring that up."

"and what did daddy say?" she asked, leaning in as if she could hardly wait

"he looked at me and said, 'that's not my son, that's my brother,'" you mimicked sukuna’s low, irritated tone. "i was so embarrassed!" sukuna chuckled at the memory, shaking his head. "you should've seen your mom’s face. all high and mighty, like she was about to call child protection services on me or something."

you couldn't help but laugh, too. "anyway, i patched yuuji up, and to make up for the misunderstanding, your dad suggested we set up a playdate for yuuji and megumi."

"a playdate?"

"yup," you nodded. "though i think your dad might've had other reasons for giving me his number." sukuna scoffed, folding his arms. "that didn’t happen."

you raised an eyebrow at him. "oh? so your eyes didn’t sparkle when i smiled and told you goodbye?" sukuna groaned again, this time louder. "my eyes did not do that."

chikara giggled harder, clearly enjoying the banter. "i think daddy liked you right away!" you smiled softly. "maybe he did. i mean, why else would he take me to a skate park for our first date?" sukuna rolled his eyes. "you said you wanted to learn how to skate. i was just being nice."

"uh-huh. sure," you teased. "and he was so good at it, zooming around, showing off. i'll admit..., he did look kinda cool! i, on the other hand, spent most of the time falling."

"which is why i had to keep catching you," sukuna added, sliding into the empty space next to you on the bed. "mommy fell? did daddy save you?" chikara asked, her face lighting up at the idea

sukuna ruffled her pink hair. "more like i had to stop her from breaking every bone in her body." you rolled your eyes at him. "i wasn't that bad."

"yes, you were," sukuna said, smirking. "you almost took me down with you half the time." smiling at the memory, you leaned in to kiss your daughter's forehead. "but it was fun. and after that, we went out for ice cream, and your dad actually smiled for real that time."

"daddy smiled? really?"

sukuna shot you a half-hearted glare. "i smile."

"not back then you didn't," you teased, poking his arm. chikara turned to her dad, beaming. "i wanna learn to skate, too, just like you and mommy!" sukuna chuckled, wrapping an arm around her

"maybe one day, brat. but you’re probably gonna fall as much as your mom did."

"hey!"

gulp... sorry if sukuna is ooc, im tired and im on my period but i really liked this request so...

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[mostly-imagines]

Guard Dog vol. II

jason todd x fem!reader

aka don’t fuck with jason’s gf pt. II

3 in 1 blurbs

warnings: mild standard gotham violence, in the 3rd section: attempted sexual assault and panicky thoughts afterwards from reader

“Sweetheart, this is…not good.”

You turn your head over to him, where he’s frowning, hands on his hips as he inspects your bedroom window.

You tilt your head, looking it over from your place on the couch. “What’s wrong with it?”

He sighs, “Well for one, the lock is broken. But even if it weren’t, this thing would be so easy to break.”

“It’s the lock the place came with.” You shrug. At least it has a lock. In Gotham that’s kind of asking a lot.

“Yeah, I can tell.” He frowns at the window once again, moving over to stand behind the couch. “I’m getting you better locks.” He looks to you, “I can install them tomorrow?”

You tilt your head up to look at him, “You don’t need to get me new locks, Jay…”

“Okay.” He kisses your head, “I’m getting them.”

You sigh in defeat, though your smile makes it lose its credibility. “Tomorrow’s fine. I assume you’re staying the night, then?”

He makes his way to the kitchen as he says, “Well, I’m not leaving you alone here with this piece of shit the only thing between you and Gotham.”

“I’ve lived here for two years.” You say flatly.

“Don’t remind me.” He mumbles as he moves behind the counter. “Actually, your door chain’s broken too, isn’t it?” It is, but that’s his own fault.

You had a long day a couple weeks ago and had a very long, very hot shower the second you got home. Unfortunately, it had slipped your mind to text him that you were home safe and he’d broken through the chain in one try to make sure you were okay.

You hum, “It wasn’t doing much anyways.” Clearly.

He grimaces as he heats up the stove for dinner.

You laugh lightly, “What?”

He looks back at you with a frankly adorable frown, “I don’t like that.”

You’d never thought much of it. You hadn’t had any—well, many—problems living here before, and you still had your deadbolt and handle lock.

“It’s okay. I’m safe here.”

He looks like he strongly disagrees. He comes back over, sitting next to you, taking your face in his hands. “Will you please let me set up some security measures around here?”

“Did Jason Todd just say please?” You say in faux-shock.

He rolls his eyes at you, “I’m serious.”

You sigh, contemplatively. “I don’t want my apartment looking like the Home Alone set.”

He laughs at that, “It’s not going to. You won’t even notice most of them. Just do it for me, please?”

“I’ll agree, but only because I know you’re going to do it anyways and I’d like to pretend I have control over this.” That’s not true, you’d agree to literally anything if he said please that sweetly again, but that’s your business.

“Fair enough.” He smiles, kissing your cheek.

No, it’s not fair at all.

It’s late. You’re not even sure how late but the city has calmed from its usual noises, indicating that your boyfriend will be home soon.

You’re coming up heavy on cramps tonight and according to the mockingly empty spot in your medicine cabinet, you’re out of ibuprofen. Yeah, it’s late, but the store on the corner is a three minute walk and fuck your stomach hurts. Jason wouldn’t like it if you went out without telling him though, so maybe you should wait until—

The sound of the living room window sliding open breaks you away from your thoughts, followed by a clatter of something hitting the ground.

You walk back into the dimly lit room, finding your boyfriend sliding the window shut again, holsters abandoned on the ground. He turns and collapses onto the couch face first, body immediately gone limp.

“Hey, baby.” You bite back a laugh, coming over to rub his muscled back from behind the couch. He groans into the cushion in response. “Why don’t you go get in bed?”

He hums almost imperceptibly, sitting up and rubbing his eyes roughly with his palms.

He stands and takes your hand in his as he passes by, tugging you towards the bedroom. The deep ache in your abdomen reminds you of your earlier train of thought. You pull your hand back, stopping in your tracks.

He turns back to you with a frown, wanting to know what could possibly be getting in his way of falling asleep, holding you close.

“I gotta go pick up some ibuprofen. I’ll be right back.” You say quietly, not wanting to disturb the quietness of the night for him. His frown deepens as you head towards the door, watching you.

You’ve got your purse in hand and are reaching for the handle when you hear his footsteps following in suit. “Hey, it’s okay. Stay here, I’m just going to the 24 hour store on the corner.”

He shakes his head, “You’re not going out in Gotham alone at two in the morning. Put your coat on, it’s cold.”

You do as you’re told, shrugging the coat on as you glance over at him. “Jason, it’s okay. You’re exhausted, go to sleep.”

He ignores you, throwing a sweatshirt on to cover up his armor, and follows you out the door; albeit far more sluggish than usual.

He was right though, the night air is bitter and slaps your face with every step forward you take. He lingers a few steps behind you, honest to god almost falling asleep mid step a couple times.

Frankly, you’re not even sure what kind of fight he’d be able to put up in this state. Though, he’s surprised you plenty of times before. In any case, his head snaps up every time there’s any sign of movement around, instantly on alert.

He trails behind you as you browse through the narrow aisles, hands stuffed in his sweatshirt.

As you’re standing at the store counter paying, his neck is craned forward, resting on your shoulder. You rub soothing circles into his hand with your thumb, though you’re sure it’s not doing anything to help his exhaustion.

You’re walking back home, the bite of the air a bit more forgiving in this direction. There’s another man walking down the sidewalk approaching, hands in pocket.

Jason’s too tired to bother with subtlety, glaring directly at the passerby before he could even think of trying anything. And it works, because the guy averts his gaze real quick and speeds up past you.

He continues working at his post from just behind you all the way until you’re back inside your apartment.

He takes the medicine container out of his pocket and cracks it open for you, wordlessly filling up a glass of water after. You gulp down a couple of the pills, and he takes the glass and bottle out of your hand the second you’re done, setting them on the counter.

He turns to you, eyes barely open, mumbling, “Can we sleep now?”

You smile at his fatigued state and take his hand, leading him to the bedroom.

Your neighbor likes you. You know it, Jason knows it.

The worst he’d done was flirt with you, badly, and shut his mouth real quick whenever your boyfriend emerged from your apartment.

And Jason let that go; he knows better than anybody that you’re heavenly and sweet and clever, of course this fucking guy likes you. Jason set an unspoken rule with himself, that he won’t get violent with any guys unless they put their hands on you. Something he knows for absolute fact your neighbor has not done.

At least he hadn’t until a couple of hours ago. You’d been in the hallway at the mailslots, your boyfriend nowhere in sight, when he decided it was the perfect time to make a move. Make several moves, actually.

You’re sitting on the couch, knees to chest, still trying to wrap your mind wround what had happened when Jason sees you. You stopped crying a while ago and you’ve entered the phase of…well. That happened.

Your hear keys jingling outside the door, followed by your boyfriend's entrance. He’s carrying some grocery bags and has a book tucked under his chin.

He lets the bags slide off his arms, and sets the book on the counter with them, beaming, “You’re never gonna guess what b—“ His smile drops when he sees you. “What’s wrong?”

You shake your head, “Nothing.” But your blinking feels off all of a sudden, and you can’t remember what you usually do with your face when you’re not lying. It doesn’t matter though, you could be an academy award winning actress and you’re still sure Jason would be able to see right through you with a single glance.

He frowns, “Don’t lie to me.” He moves towards you, kneeling down in front of you. “Please. What’s wrong?” His eyes are worried now, more than usual.

You don’t want him to worry about this. He already worries about you too much and he’s got all his vigilante stuff and…you just want to believe that this is a manageable situation and not a problem. Not something that affected you.

“It’s just…it’s not a big deal, okay? I can handle it—”

His posture stiffens and his voice suddenly goes low and serious, “What happened?”

You know where this is going. “Jason. Promise me you won’t do anything.”

His brow furrows, and his frown turns to something closer to anger. “Did someone put their hands on you? Who?”

“Jason—”

“Who did it?”

“The neighbor, b—” he immediately snaps to a stand and starts towards the door. You hurry to grab onto his hand before he can escape your proximity, “Jason. Please don’t.”

The break in your voice is enough to make his rage falter and turn back around to face you.

“Baby, if he touched you—” His eyes are pleading, begging you to let him go take care of this. If not for you, then for him.

“It wasn’t—he didn’t do anything. He didn’t get to. I hit him and he backed off.” Which is…sort of true.

He stares at you. “In the hallway?”

You blink. “…Yeah?”

He takes off towards the bedroom wordlessly. You follow quickly on his tail, watching him sit on the edge of your bed, opening his computer and clicking through it quickly.

You slide over next to him, and see that he's pulling up a file under the name of your building and today’s date. It takes you two seconds too long to realize what he’s doing, the thought only sinking in right as you see the hallway security camera footage on the screen.

“Jason—” you try to close the computer but he bats your hand away.

He forwards through the footage, as you scramble trying and failing to reach past him, various building occupants coming in and out of frame rapidly.

“—please just listen to me.” But he did listen to you, and he heard that someone tried to hurt you. That was all he needed to hear.

He stops when he sees you enter the frame, watching closely. He sees you flipping through the mail. He sees your neighbor slither out of his apartment and stand far too close to you. You take a step back only to be met with two steps forward by him. He says something to you, probably asking where your boyfriend is.

The angle doesn’t show his face, but it does see yours, and you look incredibly uncomfortable. You don’t answer him, which evidently was enough of an answer in itself.

Your neighbor tries to brush some of your hair out of your face but you snap your head away, stumbling back a little. He uses your lack of balance as an “excuse” to grab onto your waist, pulling you close to him.

Your hands are out in front of you and you’re shaking your head as he pushes towards you. His lips land on your neck and you try to move backwards, but he grabs your wrists and holds you in place.

You fight against his grip, and upon realizing that your struggling doesn’t matter to him at all, you dig your nails into his wrists so hard you draw blood. He groans in pain and his grip on you loosens.

You snap your hands away and push yourself away, locking yourself in your apartment. Your neighbor lingers for a moment, shouting something at the door before trudging back into his apartment and slamming the door.

Jason snaps the laptop shut, coming to a stand once again. His fists clinch at his sides. “That was not nothing.”

No, it wasn’t. But you feel so helpless right now. You sure as hell felt it in the hallway, and it keeps lingering in you and you’re not sure why. You couldn’t do anything then, you can’t do anything now…it feels like all the bad things in the world are closing in on you and you just have to let it happen.

“I…I don’t want anyone to die because of me…” your words aren’t quite matching your thoughts, but this is the closest you can get right now.

He pulls back to look at you, brows furrowed. “It’s—it’s not because of you. It’s because of him. Baby, if I were on patrol and saw him grab some other girl like that I’d do the same thing.”

You know that. You know that. But communication seems impossible right now even though it’s the only tool you have to stop things from closing in.

“No, I know that. I know…it’s just…” Things are closing in anyways. Alright, this is happening now. Your eyes start watering and your voice trembles.

“Fuck, baby.” His hand flies to the back of your head, other arm wrapping around your middle, pulling you to him.

You feel a bit silly, crying over the potential death of someone who tried to hurt you, in front of the Red Hood of all people.

“I’m sorry, I—I don’t know. It’s—it’s too many bad things. I can’t…”

“Okay. Okay. It’s okay. I’ll stay here. I’m staying here with you, okay?” You nod into his chest, tears dampening his shirt.

This is a temporary solution, you know that even now. But you think once it expires, it might be easier to accept whatever Jason’s going to do later.

He’s quiet for a few minutes, holding you in his arms as you sway back and forth lightly.

“Will you forgive me if I kill him?” He whispers into your hair.

You roll your eyes but smile nonetheless. “Don’t.”

“Is that a yes?”

You pull back to look him in the eyes, face setting. “I’m getting the feeling you’re going to do something regardless of how this conversation ends.” He says nothing. “Just, please, don’t kill him.”

He holds you tighter and you do the same, laying your head against his chest again. You feel him press a kiss to your head as he takes a deep breath.

You think on it for a moment, figuring it needs saying, “And don’t get in trouble.”

Your neighbor comes home late that night, trudging through the front door with a perpetual frown. He opens the door to his notably unlocked apartment. He drops his bag on the ground with a thump and flicks on the lamp next to the door. He shuts the door and turns the lock when the red elephant in the room pipes up.

“Hey, bud.”

He jumps, spinning around, “Who the fuck—oh, shit.” He freezes the second he sees him, sitting in the armchair across the room. The Red Hood nods, loading the gun in his hand.

Your neighbor stutters, “What—what are you doing here?”

He looks up at him, cocking the gun. “You put your hands on your neighbor, yeah?”

He looks fake-shocked at the accusation. “What? No, I would ne—which neighbor?”

He can’t see it, but Hood’s face drops into a deadpan. “That is really not helping your case.”

Your neighbor eyes the gun nervously.

Hood sighs, “I’m not going to kill you. I’ve been told it’s bad manners to execute someone the first time you meet.” He glances down the nail marks on his arm and steels his jaw. “No. What’s going to happen is you’re going to break your lease and move out. Within the next week.”

The neighbors eyes widen, “A week? Are you insane?”

Hood tilts his head a bit before shaking it, “Nah, you’re right. By tomorrow night.”

“This is my apartment. I live here, I’m not going anywhere. And unless you’re secretly Saul the landlord under there, you can’t do anything about it.” He crosses his arms, clearly feeling very proud of himself. Well, killing him isn’t the only option, is it?

Hood stands, making his way across the room casually. “Yeah, I thought you’d say that.” He clocks him hard on the head with the frame of his gun. He goes down quickly and loudly, clutching his head, groaning. “The alternative is getting beaten half to death and hoping whatever hospital you end up at knows what they’re doing.”

Honestly, neighbor boy is pressing his luck as is. Maybe it was a bad idea for Jason to bring the gun.

“Fuck! Fine! I’ll go!” He wails.

Hood kicks his abdomen with the side of his boot, though not nearly as hard as he wanted to. “Shut up. You’ll disturb the neighbors.”

The neighbor groans again, quieter. He mumbles something about Hood being crazy but it gets lost under the grunts of pain.

Hood crouches down next to him, patting him on the head with the barrel of his gun. “Don’t worry, bud. I’ll check up on you. And if I ever see you so much as look in the general direction of another girl I’ll put a bullet in your head. Sound good?”

Your former neighbor drops his head to the ground, hand still clutching the growing swell on his forehead.