#OOC: Dad joke hours.

[spring-lxcked]

was writing a headcanon post but i'm just posting these tag outright now because fkdshjsdkhsa

[animeshotsh]

Thats MY kid | Dad!Lucifer x Kid!Reader x "Uncle"Alastor |

Summary: Alastor wants to take you out for some time with him!

Warnings: SFW | Probably OOC | Uncle!Alastor | Slight!YandereAlastor | Cursing | Canon violence | Canon hell |

Alastor tried to convince himself he was doing this to piss Lucifer off. No, he did not have any type of attachment to you, he did not see you as his own kid (even if you totally ignored his half request to be called dad when not being around Lucifer). And no, he was not hurt by that.

Right?

Yeah well no. You had touched his heart somehow and now Alastor was down bad, he swears you must have some type of demonic magic (and not just you being you and being amazing) because no one (only his mother) made him feel so much love in his life or after life.

"Uncle?" Your voice called him making Alastor look at you with his signature simile. "Why was dad angry when you showed up?"

~☆~☆~☆~

Earlier that day.

"ABSOLUTLY NO. GET OUT FROM MY HOUSE RIGHT NOW" Lucifer screamed at the radio Demon who just stared back.

"My my, I never had you for the possesive type of dad, with how much freedom you have give Charlie"

"Dont bring my daugther into this" Lucifer said almost breaking a pen. "We both know you want to take (Y/N) out just to get to me. And im not letting you create fake hopes for that kid. That kid is mine Alastor, maybe not by blood but its mine. And I promised I would protect them, for anything and anyone. You can piss me off however you want but dont bring (Y/N) into this".

Well fuck, Lucifer did care for you.

Also, fuck you Lucifer. You did not know how he felt (hell, not even Alastor knew how he felt towards you). After meeting you at the hotel, seeing you interact with the others and also play with his shadows, something started to form inside the old killer. And it got worse when you ran to him asking him how the radio worked, his insides making flips as he explained you.

He also did almost break when you were saying goodbye and hugged his legs. If that was any other Demon they would have ended dead on the spot. But it was you, and it felt right.

"Listen" Alastor started smile still on his face but his tone serious "Im not that low to bring (Y/N) into our....fights. You May not believe me but I care for that kid, if I did not for sure I would not have give him one of my shadows to protect them"

"Wait-you did what-"

"The point is" Alastor interrumped static forming "I dont plan on giving they fake hope, and thats all I Will say"

Silence passed for seconds that felt like hours, finally Lucifer nodded.

"Alright, i will let you take them for today, BUT anything and I mean anything happens to them, you will no longer be here" Lucifer said his tone for once being truly the one from a king of hell.

Alastor just nodded, taking his cane being ready to be out with you for the day.

"Oh and Alastor, I dont trust you. But i want (Y/N) to get here what they missed in life, so dont fuck this up"

~☆~☆~☆~

"Nothing your silly head must worry about!" Alastor assured you. However your face did show you were not buying what he said.

"Smile my Dear!! You know you are never fully dressed without one!!" Alastor tried again, stopping to take your hand and make you spin. Your laught coming out quickly making him relax.

"There it is!" He exclaimed then continue to walk besides you. Right now you two were in the cannibals town. For other demons and sinners this part was even more dangerous than the regular hell. But for Alastor it was like his home, demos in here knew him and liked him, and that extended to you as well. A few had waved and smiled, fresh blood showing. But Alastor had made sure you did not see any dead body, or parts of one.

"Now I have a suprise for you!, I have a friend who owns a restaurant and she accepted to take us in"

"...as food or clients?" You asked joking making the radio Demon smirk, radio laughts in the background.

"Well, since she is my friend, we are clients of coruse" Alastor responded getting a nod from you. "Of course you wont be eating anything...special, regular food I promise"

~☆~☆~☆~

When you two entered the restaurant you found it to be empy....aside from some workers who came quickly to guide Alastor and you to a private room with a big table.

There, on one of the chairs a very pale Demon with deep black eyes stood. Noticing Alastor she got on her feet coming closer.

"Alastor, its so good to see you again" she beamed at the radio Demon stopping a few inches away.

"And who may this little creature be?"

Jokes, Rosie knew who you were. He had to listen to Alastor talk about how unfair it was that you had decided to call Lucifer dad and not him.

Being by Alastor side gave you confidence so you took some small steps closer to her.

"Im (Y/N), im Alastor newphew" You stated proudly making Rosie smile showing her sharp teet.

"Thats wonderfull, now please sit I have prepared the best for both of you" Rosie exclaimed calling over the workers who appear to help the three of you settle down.

"For you my friend, I got you the finist meat from this side of hell" A plate with fresh flesh was presented making Alastor almost growl at it. "And for you little one a bird told me you loved chocolate" a big space on the table was now occupied with the biggest and most extravagant chocolate cake you have ever seen.

"I-its that all for me?" You asked not believing it. Getting a nodd from Rosie "and I cant eat all of it?" Again a nodd.

You almost cried when the first slice was put in front of you. No one ever got you cake in the living world.

"Oh and to help you not chocke with that, Alastor I have some.." Rosie paused looking for the right words seeing how you were now devouring the cake "a very special drink" she finally said, a bottle with red liquid appear. And for you, I prepared a mix of appel juice and strawberry" she said getting the most pure look from you.

"Thank you Miss"

"Oh, just call me Rosie" she responded.

~☆~☆~☆~

Turns out you ate most of the cake and now the sugar had gave you too much energy. Rosie had asked her workers to play with you some game of tag, without biting.

And hell, you were fast. Outrunning the old demons and even letting chairs fall to prevent them from coming closer.

Rosie used this moment to dig as much information about you from Alastor as she could find.

"So, Lucifer just decided to take them in? What a strange guy" she said sipping her own drink. "And now you are taking care of them?"

Alastor nodded "yes, you must see Lucifer's face when I show up and (Y/N) calls me uncle, he its so angry"

"But you truly care for them" Rosie stated. "You would never have asked me to prepare something that does not come from sinners or demons knowing where you are. You also made me order the town to keep the body display low to protect them"

Rosie could read Alastor as an Open book.

"Uncleeeee" your call alerted the overlords, seeing you running towards them with the biggest smile on your face. "The other said they are too tired to keep running after me, does this mean I won?"

"Well centraly!! I knew no one would be able to catch you. You are my relative after all"

You nodded and smiled going back to your chair to drink more juice. "This is amazing. Thanks a lot Mi-Rosie!"

"Aww, arent you the cutest" Rosie beamed her hands squishing your cheecks.

~☆~☆~☆

After the food and some more talking Alastor decided it was time for you to go back with Lucifer (and no, it was not because he had got at least 666 messages from him).

Rosie had told you to come whenever you wanted that no one would hurt you in her town.

~☆~☆~☆

"I had a great time Uncle!" You told Alastor as the big castle started to show in the distance.

"Well im glad Dear! Dont forget to tune the radio for my program tonight" Alastor said petting your head.

"I wont! Dad hates it but I love it, specially that music you use...ummmm jazz?"

Alastor started to think that just kindapp you and made you his kid instead would be for the best.

"(y/n)!!" A very distinct voice screamed

"DAD!!"

But he would not want to hurt your feelings so, seeing you from time to time would have to do.

He waited for the exchange to end, Lucifer asking you what have you done and also making sure you were not hurt. After that he nodded to himself.

"Alright, now go inside, Xin has prepared you a bath"

You nodded but turned towards Alastor going for his legs again to hug him.

"Thank you uncle!! No one ever took me to a restaurant or got me cake. Lets meet again soon" you smiled up to him showing pointy teet.

Before he could respond you were running inside the castle with a very worried maid behind you.

~☆~☆~☆~

"Well..looks like you did not ruin this" Lucifer stated seeing you run off.

"I told you I would not" Alastor responded offended. "(Y/N) has potential to grow up to be a powerfull sinner (no you did not) of course im going to look over them"

Lucifer just shoot Alastor a knowing smile then turned around to enter his home.

"Thanks for not breaking his heart" he finally said then the doors closed behind him leaving Alastor alone.

Of course he could not bring himself to do that, even if he wanted to. You were his newphew. His. Not someone else.

And no one breaks the things he loves.

Not even himself.

[animementrash]

Defense Force members and how they act as boyfriends.

Characters: Soshiro Hoshina, Gen Narumi, Hibino Kafka, Reno Ichikawa Tags: Headcannons, some may be ooc?, fluff, probably crack. A/N: I've been writing so much Levi stuff (and there's more in the queue ngl) so I wanted to do a quick refresh and write some HCs of these lovely men. I really enjoyed Kaiju no.8 and think it's such a cool show. 10/10 reccomend watching it. (Just don't read the manga unless you want to suffer).

Soshiro Hoshina

A very laid-back kind of partner, has nothing against PDA but is very rare for him to be over affectionate in public.

Loves to hear you talk, his favorite type of date is a coffee date where he can have a warm drink and listen to you speak for hours.

Will gift you books and randomly quiz you about them, if you didn’t like the book, he’ll take a mental note and avoid gifting you anything about that genre for a while.

His love language is physical touch, he definitely has to be touching you in some way all the time. Whether is holding your hand, playing with your hair or even pinching your cheeks.

Loves to bully you and tease you, has many nicknames and pet names for you.

Gen Narumi

Needs your attention ALL THE TIME. Gets really whiny if you don’t pay attention to him.

Loves to nap with you, he’s always down for some cuddles or just lay in bed with you.

Gets quite competitive if you play videogames with him, will let you win if you offer to pepper his face with kisses though.

His love language is gift giving, will spoil you rotten with gifts and trinkets he finds online and thinks you’d like.

Pretends to hate when you offer to do his skincare but is secretly so happy that you’re pampering like that.

Posts your photos in all his social media accounts and makes sure people knows who you are.

Hibino Kafka

A very loving and sweet partner, will always have time for you no matter how tired he is.

Will listen to you ramble as much as you need, if you want advice, he’ll do his best to give you some, if you just want to complain then he’ll happily listen.

Loves to bond with you over food, he’s a pretty good cook and loves to make you new dishes and have stay-at-home dates.

He’s your #1 fan and supporter, is always cheering you on and making sure you feel happy.

Loves to tell you dad jokes.

Reno Ichikawa

The sweetest boyfriend, very perceptive to your likes and needs.

Loves to hold your hand and usually plays with your fingers when holding it.

If you’re also part of the defense force, he’ll train with you as much as you want. Doesn’t go easy on you but is also hyper aware of his movements and tries his best to not hurt you.

Is constantly creating music playlists for you to listen to; They can range from sweet and romantic to weird ass music he likes and wants your opinion of.

Also loves stay-at-home dates where he gets the chance to cook for you.

[synsacra]

catharsis

pairing: modern best friend's dad shanks x fem!reader

contents: smut, unprotected piv, ooc shanks maybe, soft shanks, age gap, kitchen sex, creampie, oral sex (f receiving), praise, loooots of pet names (darlin', sweetheart), aftercare

words: 4.1k

a/n: not proofread also this is my first time writing shanks and i know barely anything abt him i just know he's silly and hot as hell so yeah :P this fic stems from my SEVERE daddy issues and need for comfort if u dont like, dont read

You're sitting on Uta's bed, the soft hum of the air conditioner a comforting backdrop to your thoughts, and the scent of that sickly sweet vanilla candle that Uta loves fills her bedroom. You’ve been here countless times before, but today feels different. Your heart races as you glance at the door, half-expecting it to creak open. You can almost hear Shanks' deep voice echoing in your mind, sending shivers down your spine.

Uta is downstairs, chatting away with her dad while he makes lunch. You should be there too, joining in on the conversation, laughing at their jokes, but you can't bring yourself to move. Your fingers trace the outline of a photo on the bedside table–a candid shot of Shanks and Uta from last summer. He’s grinning, his only arm slung casually around her shoulders, his red hair glowing under the sun. His eyes, though, are what draw you in. They seem to hold a depth of experience and warmth that makes you squirm.

You feel a flush creep up your neck as you imagine those eyes meeting yours, boring into your soul. You shake your head, trying to get rid of the thought, but it lingers, growing stronger with each passing moment. You close your eyes, picturing him standing before you, towering over you with that easy confidence that always seems to dominate any room he enters.

"You okay?" Uta's voice snaps you out of your daydreams.

You jump, startled, and turn to see her standing in the doorway with a concerned look on her face.

"You looked like you were miles away," she says, stepping inside and closing the door behind her.

"Yeah, I'm fine," you reply, forcing a smile. "Just... thinking."

She plops down beside you. "About what?"

You hesitate, not sure how to answer. The truth is too embarrassing. Instead, you shrug and say, "Nothing important. Just school stuff."

Uta raises an eyebrow but doesn't press further. She leans back against the pillows, propping her feet up on the bed. "Dad made sandwiches if you're hungry," she chirps.

Your stomach flutters at the mention of him. "Sounds good," you murmur, still unable to shake the image of Shanks from your mind.

As if on cue, the door opens again, and there he is. Shanks stands framed in the doorway, holding a tray laden with sandwiches, chips, and drinks. His presence is magnetic, commanding your attention without even trying. He strides in and sets the tray on the bed between you and Uta.

"Thought you girls might be hungry," he says with a smile, his eyes briefly meeting yours before darting away. Something in his gaze, something unreadable, sends a jolt through you. You nod shyly, picking up a sandwich and taking a bite.

Uta chatters on about her plans for the weekend, but all you can think about is Shanks. What would it feel like to have those strong hands on you, to feel the heat of his body so close? The thoughts make your breath quicken and your skin tingle.

Shanks excuses himself after a few minutes, heading back downstairs to give you some privacy. As soon as the door closes behind him, you exhale sharply, feeling both relieved and disappointed.

"He really is the best, isn't he?" Uta says, her eyes bright as she eats.

"Yeah," you agree softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "He really is."

The afternoon drags on, each minute feeling like an hour as your thoughts circle back to Shanks. You try to focus on Uta and engage in the conversation, but it’s useless. Your mind keeps drifting, imagining scenarios that leave you breathless.

After a while, Uta yawns and decides to take a nap, leaving you to your own devices. You lie back on the bed next to her, staring up at the ceiling, but your thoughts are far from restful. Images of Shanks flood your mind–his smile, his laugh, the way his body looks beneath his shirt–until you can’t stand it anymore.

You slip out of the bedroom, moving silently down the hall towards the stairs. Your heart pounds with every step, but you don’t stop. You need to see him, if only for a moment.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, you pause, listening for any sign of movement. The house is quiet, save for the sound of water coming from the kitchen. You take a deep breath and step forward, your pulse racing as you approach.

And there he is, standing at the counter, his back to you as he rinses a dish under the running water. The sight of him fills you with a mix of fear and excitement.

“Shanks?” His name slips out before you can stop it, your voice trembling slightly.

He turns, wiping his hands on a towel, his eyes locking onto yours. For a moment, neither of you speak. Then, slowly, he smiles, a warm, knowing smile that makes your knees weak.

“Hey,” he says, his voice smooth and low. “What can I do for you?”

You swallow hard, your mouth suddenly dry. “I… I was just wondering if you needed any help. With anything.”

He chuckles softly, setting the towel down and leaning against the counter. “You don’t need to help me, sweetheart. But I appreciate the offer.”

His casual tone only heightens your nervousness, your resolve wavering. You take a tentative step closer, your eyes dropping to his chest, where his shirt is open.

“Are you sure?” you manage to ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

He tilts his head, studying you for a long moment before he speaks. “Is everything okay, darlin’?”

His words are soft, but they carry a weight that makes your chest tighten. His gaze pierces through your composure, and you find yourself frozen, unsure of what to say or do next.

“I…” Your voice falters, the excuse you had in mind dissolving under the intensity of his attention. You glance at the floor, desperately trying to collect yourself.

Shanks pushes off the counter and takes a slow step toward you. His movements are deliberate but unthreatening, his head tilting slightly as if trying to read your thoughts. “You seem a little off,” he says, his tone gentle but probing. “If there’s something on your mind, you can tell me.”

You look up at him, meeting his eyes for just a moment before the rush of emotions becomes too much, and you glance away again. “It’s nothing,” you mumble, shaking your head. “I didn’t mean to bother you.”

“You’re not bothering me,” he replies, his voice steady. “But you’re not a very good liar.” There’s a flicker of amusement in his tone, but it’s tempered with genuine concern.

Your cheeks burn. The words are on the tip of your tongue—an apology, an excuse, anything to break the tension—but they never come. Instead, you say, “I just… wanted to talk.”

It’s not a lie, exactly, but it feels like one. Shanks leans back against the counter again. “Alright,” he says, his expression softening. “I’m all ears.”

The weight of his attention presses down on you, making it hard to breathe. You shift nervously, your fingers twisting together as you search for the courage to speak. The room feels too quiet, the hum of the refrigerator doing nothing to mask the thundering of your heart.

“I…” You trail off, biting your lip. Just say it. Get it out. But how? How do you confess something that feels so big, so impossible?

Shanks doesn’t rush you. He stands there, patient and calm, his steady gaze encouraging but not overbearing. Somehow, that makes it even harder.

You glance at him, taking in the way the light catches his red hair, the ease in his posture, the warmth in his eyes. “I’ve been… feeling something,” you begin, your voice trembling. “And it’s been hard to ignore.”

His brow furrows slightly, though his expression remains kind. “What kind of feeling?” he asks gently.

Your mouth is dry, and your hands won’t stop trembling. You force yourself to meet his eyes, your resolve strengthening just enough to push the words out.

“About you,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

The air between you seems to shift. Shanks straightens slightly, his expression unreadable. For a moment, you think he’s going to say something, but he doesn’t. He waits, letting you continue at your own pace.

“I know it’s wrong,” you say quickly, the words tumbling out in a rush. “You’re Uta’s dad, and you probably think I’m just some kid who doesn’t know what they’re feeling, but… I can’t help it. Every time I see you, I feel like- like I can’t breathe, like anything other than you doesn't matter.”

You pause, your chest heaving with the effort of saying it all out loud. The silence stretches on, heavy and suffocating, as you wait for his reaction. Shanks runs a hand through his hair; his expression is complicated–a mix of surprise, understanding, and something you can’t quite place.

Shanks stares at you for a long moment, his expression softening as a small smile tugs at the corner of his lips. He exhales through his nose, shaking his head slightly as if amused. “Well,” he says, his voice gentle, “that’s not what I expected to hear today.”

You feel your cheeks flush with heat, embarrassment threatening to swallow you whole. You lower your gaze, fidgeting with your hands again. “I’m sorry,” you blurt, your voice thick with emotion. “I know it’s crazy. I just… needed to say it.”

Shanks steps closer, closing the gap between you. His expression isn’t one of pity or condescension but of genuine care. “Hey,” he says softly, his deep voice washing over you like a balm. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for. Feelings are tricky, darlin’, and they don’t always make sense.”

You blink up at him, your heart pounding in your ears. His words are kind, but the tenderness in his tone sends a fresh wave of longing through you. You bite your lip, unsure whether to say anything more or just let the moment hang in the air.

“Shanks…” you begin hesitantly, your voice trembling. “I don’t want to make things awkward. I just… I couldn’t keep it in anymore.”

His expression softens further, and his lips quirk into a small smile. “It’s not awkward,” he murmurs, his hand lifting slightly as though he’s about to reach for you but stops short.

You can’t hold his gaze any longer. You glance down at the floor, wishing the ground would swallow you up. But then you feel the warm, gentle touch of his fingers under your chin, tilting your face back up to meet his eyes.

“Look at me,” he says softly. You obey, your breath hitching as you take in the intensity of his gaze. “You’re not crazy for feeling what you feel. And… you’re not alone in it.”

Your heart stops. Everything around you seems to fall away, leaving only the two of you in the quiet space of the kitchen. “What do you mean?” you whisper, not believing what you just heard.

Shanks exhales slowly, his thumb brushing lightly against your chin before his hand falls back to his side. “I’ve been feeling things too,” he admits, his voice low. “I’ve been fighting it, telling myself it’s wrong, but… you’re hard to ignore.”

“You really mean that?” you ask, your voice barely audible.

He nods, his eyes never leaving yours. “I do. But it’s complicated, darlin’. So complicated.”

For a moment, Shanks seems torn, his internal conflict written all over his face. Then, with a sigh, he gives in to his desires. His hand lifts to cup your cheek, his thumb stroking your skin as he leans in slowly, giving you time to pull away if you wanted to.

You don’t.

When his lips meet yours, it’s like the world stops spinning. The kiss is gentle at first, almost hesitant, as though he’s testing the waters. But it deepens when you press closer, your hands gripping his shirt to anchor yourself. His lips move against yours with a tenderness that makes your knees weak.

The kiss is everything you imagined and more–warm, consuming, and full of unspoken emotion. When he finally pulls back, you’re both breathless, his forehead resting against yours as you try to steady your racing heart.

Your heart is pounding in your chest, and you stand there, clutching Shanks' shirt as you try to catch your breath. His hand still cups your cheek, his thumb gently caressing your skin. You can feel the warmth radiating off his body, his scent filling your senses.

"Shanks," you whisper, your voice shaky but filled with longing.

He pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, his gaze soft yet intense. "I know," he murmurs.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, he leans in to kiss you again. This time, the kiss is deeper and more passionate. You can feel the hunger in it, the pent-up desire he’s been trying to deny. His tongue slides against yours, teasing and exploring, and you melt into him, your body responding with a need that surprises you with its intensity.

His hand travels down your back, pulling you closer until there's no space left between you. You can feel the firmness of his body pressed against yours. The sensation sends a shiver of anticipation through you, and you find yourself grinding against him, eliciting a low growl from deep within his chest.

Shanks pulls away slightly, breathing heavily as he asks, “Can you hop up on the counter for me, sweetheart?”

You do as he asks, climbing onto the counter with a soft smile, your heart pounding in your chest. The cool surface beneath you contrasts with the warmth of his presence as he steps closer, his hands gently resting on your thighs. He steps between your legs, and his hand slides under your shirt, exploring the softness of your skin. You arch into his touch, yearning for more, as his fingers trace the curve of your waist before moving higher, brushing the underside of your breasts.

You let out a soft moan, your head falling back as you give yourself over to the sensation. Shanks takes advantage of your exposed neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your jawline and down to your collarbone. His teeth graze your skin, nipping lightly before soothing the sting with his tongue.

Your hands tug at his shirt, desperate to feel the warmth of his skin beneath your palms. Shanks breaks the kiss just long enough to pull the garment over his head, revealing his muscular chest. 

The sight of him takes your breath away, and you can't help but reach out to touch him, your fingers tracing the contours of his muscles, the scars that tell the story of his life. He watches you with heavy-lidded eyes, his breath hitching as you explore his body.

With a swift motion, Shanks removes your shirt as well, his gaze roaming over your figure with an appreciation that leaves you feeling both vulnerable and empowered. He leans in to kiss you again, his hand cupping your right breast through the fabric of your bra, his thumb teasing your nipple into a stiff peak.

You fumble with the clasp of your bra, eager to feel his skin against yours. Shanks moves to assist you, his fingers deftly unhooking the garment and sliding it down your arms. His gaze locks onto your exposed breasts, and he groans with desire before leaning in to capture one of your nipples in his mouth.

The sensation of his tongue against your sensitive flesh sends jolts of pleasure coursing through your body, and you clutch at his hair, holding him close as he lavishes attention on one breast and then the other.

As the intensity between you builds, Shanks' hand slips between your legs, pressing against your aching core. The thin fabric of your pants provides little barrier to the heat of his touch, and you buck your hips forward, seeking more.

"Please," you gasp, your body trembling with need.

Shanks meets your gaze, his eyes dark with desire. "Tell me what you want," he commands, his voice rough with his own need.

“Want you," you breathe, your voice shaking. "So bad… need you so bad."

Shanks hums in acknowledgment, and he moves his hand away from your clothed cunt, his fingers hooking under the waistband of your pants. His touch sends a shiver of anticipation through you, and you can't help but gasp as he starts to peel the fabric down your legs slowly.

The cool air of the kitchen brushes against your bare skin, making you hyper-aware of your own vulnerability. But the hunger in Shanks' eyes as he takes in the sight of you, clad only in your underwear, makes any sense of unease vanish.

He steps closer, his body pressing against yours as he kisses you again. His hand roams across your skin, exploring every curve with a gentleness that takes your breath away. You can feel his clothed cock pressing against you, and the knowledge that you have this effect on him fills you with a sense of power.

"You're so beautiful," Shanks murmurs.

His fingers find the edge of your underwear, and he hooks them under the soft material. You lift your hips, helping him to slide the garment down your legs. He takes a moment to step back and drink in the sight of you, completely bared to him, and the raw lust in his gaze makes you feel like the most desirable person in the world.

He leans in, pressing a tender kiss to your lips before trailing a path of fiery kisses down your neck. His fingers trace the curve of your hip, his touch light and teasing.

You gasp as he suddenly grips your thigh, pulling you closer to the edge of the counter. Shanks drops to his knees before you, his warm breath ghosting over the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest, your body tense with need.

His fingers gently part your folds, exposing you to his hungry gaze. You feel a flush of embarrassment at being so thoroughly on display for him, but the desire in his eyes quickly chases it away. "So perfect," he murmurs, his voice filled with awe.

The first touch of his tongue against your sopping cunt makes you cry out, your back arching in pleasure. His hand moves to grip your hip, holding you in place as he explores you with a thoroughness that leaves you trembling. His tongue circles your clit, each flick sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

You can't help but grind against his face, your fingers tangling in his red hair as you lose yourself in the sensation. He groans against you, the vibrations sending a surge of heat straight to your core.

Shanks' fingers join his tongue once you’ve stopped squirming, first one, then another, sliding into you with ease. He curls them upward, finding that sensitive spot inside you that has you seeing stars. His movements are slow and deliberate, designed to drive you mad.

Your breath comes in short, desperate pants, your body coiling tighter and tighter with each passing moment. The pressure builds within you and threatens to shatter you into a thousand pieces.

Just when you think you can't take any more, Shanks sucks your clit into his mouth, his fingers pumping into you with renewed vigor. The combination sends you spiraling over the edge, your vision whiting out as the orgasm crashes over you.

You cry out his name, your body convulsing around his fingers as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you. Shanks continues to lick and suck, drawing out your orgasm until you're left a boneless, panting mess on the counter.

He stands, his lips glistening with a mixture of your slick and his spit. His eyes meet yours, dark with desire and satisfaction.

Shanks doesn't give you a chance to recover, quickly pushing his pants and underwear down his hips and kicking them away. His cock springs free, hard, and ready, and your heart races at the sight. 

His hand grips your hip, lifting you slightly as he positions himself at your entrance. You look into his eyes, seeking reassurance, and he gives you a small, reassuring smile. "I've got you, sweetheart," he says, his voice filled with a tenderness that makes your heart ache.

He holds your gaze, his expression intense as he slowly starts to push inside you. You feel your pussy stretch to accommodate him, your body welcoming him with a warmth that leaves you both gasping for air.

The feeling of fullness is almost overwhelming, but Shanks gives you a moment to adjust before he starts to move. His strokes are long and deep, each one hitting just the right spot to have you crying out his name and your back arching.

“Shhh… quiet, sweetheart. Wouldn’t wanna wake Uta up, would we?”

Shanks’ words have your walls clenching around his cock; the thought of your best friend walking in on you fucking her dad strangely arousing. 

You cling to his shoulders, your legs wrapped around his waist as he thrusts into you with increasing urgency. The sound of skin slapping fills the kitchen, accompanied by the occasional growl from Shanks as he struggles to maintain control.

"You feel so good," he groans, his forehead resting against yours. "So tight... so perfect."

You can feel another orgasm building, the pleasure coiling low in your belly. You cling to Shanks, your fingers digging into his skin as you move together. 

With each thrust, Shanks fucks you closer to the edge, until finally, with a cry that echoes off the kitchen walls, you reach your peak. He follows soon after with one last thrust, his cock pressing against your cervix as his cum floods your cunt.

Slowly, he lifts his head to meet your gaze, and there's a tenderness there that you've never seen from him before, mingling with the remnants of desire. His lips part as though he's about to say something, but instead, he just presses a gentle kiss to your mouth.

You watch through half-lidded eyes as he pulls out from you, your body still buzzing with the aftershocks of pleasure. He catches you looking and offers a lopsided grin that makes your heart flutter in your chest.

Shanks steps back between your legs, his hand coming up to cradle your face. He studies you for a long moment, his thumb stroking your cheekbones in a tender gesture that brings a lump to your throat. "Are you okay?" he asks, his voice a bit rough.

You nod, a small smile playing on your lips. "More than okay," you assure him, your voice still shaky from the force of your orgasm.

His smile widens, and he leans in to kiss you again, slower this time, with a languidness that speaks of contentment. You melt into him, your hands sliding up his chest to wrap around his neck. It's a sweet, lingering kiss that speaks volumes.

When he finally pulls away, it's only to press a series of soft kisses along your jawline and down the side of your neck. You sigh happily, your fingers threading through his hair as you tilt your head to give him better access.

After a moment, Shanks steps back, his hand moving to take your right hand in his. He helps you off the counter, and you can't help but wobble a little on your still shaky legs. Shanks wraps his arm around you to steady you. 

"Easy there," he murmurs, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Wouldn't want you falling over."

You laugh, the sound light and airy, and you lean into him, comforted by his warmth and the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear. For a long moment, you just stand there, wrapped up in each other, neither of you in any hurry to move.

Eventually, though, reality starts to creep back in. You become acutely aware of your nakedness, and with a flush, you begin to gather your clothes from the floor. Shanks watches you with a heated gaze, his appreciation evident in the way his eyes roam over your body.

As you're pulling your pants on, there's a soft creak from the hallway. You both freeze, your eyes darting to the doorway of the kitchen. Shanks puts a finger to his lips, signaling for you to be quiet. The last thing either of you wants is for Uta to catch you like this.

The sound doesn't repeat itself, and after a tense minute, you both let out a sigh of relief. Shanks moves towards you, a playful smile on his face. "Almost got caught," he chuckles, and you can't help but giggle with him. 

[blond3ang3l]

Task force x puppy boy! Reader headcanons

Guys I’m having absolute COD brain rot so expect more of them for a while. Also this is SFW and NSFW🫶🏽

Also sort of OOC but atp do I ever right characters in their canon way?

SFW

•The boys absolutely dote on you but don’t show it as much in front of people.

•They aren’t shy they just want to keep it a secret so you aren’t targeted by anyone.Even though you can handle yourself they do not care and feel a need to protect you.

•they have their favorite love languages. Gaz’s is acts of service. He’s always doing something for or with you. Ghosts and Prices is physical touch. It doesn’t have to be anything major just small touch’s like your pinkies being interlocked is comforting to them. And Soaps is quality time. Have y’all seen the amount of dad jokes him and Ghost make? That man is going to be telling you them for hours to see which one works best.

•Gaz and Soap is literally obsessed with touching your ears. They love the way they feel and can.

•Ghost is no better either but instead of your ears he is touching your tail. He finds it the literal cutest.

•all of them by you the cutest toys (just for you to absolutely destroy them the same day)

NSFW

•you have a different collar for each of them. Each one being their favorite color. While some only use it in the bedroom (Gaz and Ghost) the others will use it in public if you start to be a brat in public with no shame at all.

• Speaking of when you’re a brat the moment you act up pray that only one of them is around. They will gang up on you

• **IMO** Price is a hard dom and there’s nothing y’all can say to change my mind. You wanna act up? Okay well he’s bending you over the nearest and sticking his fingers in your mouth to muffle your cries as he spanks you and teases you left his fingers brush against your dick but never going further then light brushes. And he’s gonna keep going until you’re begging him.

•Idc care what y’all say Ghost is soft with you. Like man is strong as shit, and it doesn’t matter if you’re stronger than him he sees the need to be soft with you in bed. He’ll have you in a full Nelson and whisper to you how you’re his absolute favorite person in the world, your his puppy and his for life.

• Soap though he’s a complete tease. He’ll have you on his lap grinding your ass against his dick. His fingers sneakily making their way to yours and rubbing your bulge through your underwear making you moan. And if you get to quiet for his comfort he’ll tug on your tail or collar and tell you to speak up or he’ll make sure you won’t be able to talk with how much you’ll be crying out his name

•Gaz is a soft dom, he’s praising you while fucking you stupid. Loves to look at you (eye contact is so 😫) never lets his eyes leave yours. Your fingers are intertwined with yours as he ruts into you, telling you how much he loves you and is gonna put a ring on your fucking finger

[l0verclown]

From pressured to driven Part 2

What happens when you feel pressured to do something you never thought you'd do?

Especially if 4 serial killers are the ones pressuring you.

Slight ronin x reader

| spoilers for Killer chat!!! This is part two of "From pressured to driven". As always, my writing sucks so its probably Ooc. I have no idea if i want to continue with more parts, but hey who knows.

TW: Mention of murder, going insane, light gore, SA?(forced kissing)

PSA: I don't support neither am i trying to glorify/Normalize the words mentioned above. SA should be taken serious and it is not meant to be joked around.

Part 1:

You were walking around, searching for any "victims" to kill whilst trying not to freak out by the amount of corpses were in the alley. Damm, you knew Ronin liked going on killing sprees, but this much? If you counted every corpse you have walked past, it would be already above the 20. It didn't feel right, seeing all those unfortunate souls all on the ground, but you also couldn't help continue searching because before you know you are one going to become one of them if they find out.

*Ding!*

A notification?

Dear Reader,

I heard that you were writing a book, which is pretty interesting so my congratulations for that one.

moving on, one of our best reporters, Greg, has unfortunately resigned.

So my question to you is if you are able to make five new articles before the clock hits midnight. I expect at least two articles, but my apologies if this has come to you late, but if you are able to do it, i will try my best to reduce the amount of work you already have.

I wish you the best of luck on this.

Kind regards

Your boss.

You have to be serious. Five whole articles?

Not only did you have to make five new articles, you have to find a way to pretend that you killed a person. Not only that, it was 19:21.

19:21...

Fuck.

You have 4 hours and 30 minutes before midnight. You have to find a solution, and quick. Fuck, maybe you do want to kill someone, and with someone you mean your boss or either Greg.

Greg...

Always him, the 'best' reporter in the company. Total bullshit, he was average, a total pervert even. But the fact he resigned and that you had to chase after his bullshit!?

You felt anger raising up, adrenaline rushing through your veins, the amount of stress and anger that was mixed in your body was insufferable, that if you went to a therapist, they would either send you to a mental hospital or diagnose you with whatever mental disorder is popular.

*Ding!*

Another notification..?

@BestGregg: Hey Reader! Sorry for resigning so early and sudden but i got offered a wayy better job, and i couldn't pass up on that offer. Btw make sure to finish those assignments lol and because i'm resigning, how 'bout we meet up? I mean ur kinda chill and its gonna be fun. So what do you think?

Seriously? A meet up? Who does he think he is? My dad???

@SerialMC: Uhh..

sure i guess. Can we meet up here? *Insert Purgatory location*, i'll wait for u there, I'm here with some friends but i'm sure they don't mind.

@BestGregg: Sweet, i'll be there in 10 minutes, be prepared to have the best night of ur life ;)

Not only is he a total loser, he's a total pervert too. You continued walking, your mind just being full of total bullshit right now. First, your serial killer friends want you to kill somebody, second your stupid boss wants you to write 5 articles, and third your perverted ex-coworker wants to hangout and is going to try to hit on you.

Life's been going shit these weeks, you got hit with an inspiration block which means no more idea's for your next book. You've been trying to find out on how to tell the server that you're not actually a serial killer (What will probably never happen) and now this.

You gripped the knife that you previously found tighter, resisting the urge to even throw it. You can't kill anyone, you don't want to kill anyone, but in your state, it seemed like the only solution left.

"EYY READER, WHERE ARE YOU!?"

"I have a feeling they left"

"No way, they wouldn't leave us, their friends behind, i know them."

"Hah, So they're not as tough as they seem huh?"

"Hey! Don't say that, people like us just have our own struggles. Just let us be you edgeboy"

Fuck fuck fuck.

They were searching for you, and you haven't done anything at all, and looking at the time, that stupid greg should be somewhere here now.

How the fuck did you end up in this position!? Seriously, this would've been some fun hanging out day, but it always ends up in trouble. You just wished you could bury yourself somewhere.

"Yooo Reader it's me Greg!"

How he greeted himself scared the shit out of you, you hid the knife somewhere in your jacket, so he wouldn't notice. It was pretty dark out here, but from the looks of it and how he talked seemed like he had a bit to drink.

"Oh hey.. Greg."

"Whats up with the sad face reader? Are you not happy to see me?"

"No it's just. Work and stuff.. Gotta write 5 articles.. Ha ha.."

"Awh damn, sorry reader. Didn't know i was that important to the company, i mean, being the best reporter in the department? Hell yeah!"

He continued talking about how cool, and important he was that you didn't notice that you were basically backing up into a corner because of how much he talked.

"Ohh yeah, I think you need to confess something, reader."

"Confess.. What?"

He got closer to you, basically trapping you in that corner that you went to yourself. You said you wanted to bury yourself somewhere? Guess that place is here. He leaned into your face, you could feel his intoxicated breath, it reeked of alcohol and whatever cocktails he was drinking, but he didn't seem to go away.

"Don't act stupid, i know how you've been looking at me, you like me, don't you?"

Like. Him?

You hated that man. First, he got with all your female coworkers, he's the so-called "best reporter", he acts like a total asshole, pervert, and his looks are like the devil himself tried making the ugliest person that has ever existed. Not only that, but he has so much controversy, but of course, your boss ignores it because he was a good worker.

"I don't understand? I don't like you?

"Don't be shy, i know what you want"

Before you knew it, he slammed his lips into yours, forcefully kissing you as he held you by the waist. You yelped in disgust, tears starting to form in your eyes. You hated it, you couldn't move, you felt helpless. After he was done kissing you, he looked at you with a grin and you looked terrified.

"Look, you enjoyed that didn't ya? C'monn, i know ya want more"

"And don't worry, i won't go rough on you"

Oh.

Is this your end?

No.

It is not.

You can change

Maybe they will say you became corrupted.

But was it really, if it originated from fear?

You slowly gripped the knife you hid in your jacket, and held it tight in your hand.

"You know what i want..."

You put your free hand on his chest, he leaned in, looking like he wanted to kiss you, but before you could do that, you plunged that knife right into his chest.

He screamed, but you continued. You kept stabbing him near his heart, he tried pushing you off of himself, but you were too determined to finish him. After everything he did, all you wanted to do is never see him again.

Countless screams were forming in his throat, it sounded so god awfull, but that is why it was perfect. That's what stupid, perverted good for nothing deserve. A deep plunge in the heart. At this point, you were sure the rest could've heard the screams and were probably heading your way, but you didn't care about that. For now.

You pushed his body to the ground, before gripping two hands on the handle of the knife, and plunged even harder into his chest. You dragged the knife from his chest to his intestines, before stabbing him again for countless times. You felt anger and stress slowly leave, the crimson staining you. You felt.. Weird. You did feel guilty, yes but after all he did. He deserved it. You ripped out the knife, before hearing some voices behind you.

"Oh my, So Darlin' did end up killin someone huh? And even stabbing the intestines? How gruesome, i like that"

You turned around, hearing the voices of your friends

"Oh shit... Who that guy was, he was definitely hated by them.. Look at the stab marks holy shit, reader went batshit and im here for it"

"Oh.. My, reader, how are you feeling? I don't think that guy was some ordinary guy guys.."

"... The sight is gruesome"

You laughed, you kept laughing before finally stabbing the knife into his skull. He was finally gone.

".. That guy was my ex coworker. He kept stressing me out, making flirty moves, and.. Ended up forcefully kissing me."

Angel looked at you with a mix of reassurance and a look of "I've been there", and she slowly approached you along with Misaki. Meanwhile Misaki was a bit in denial, not because of the fact that you killed him, but because what he did to you. V was crossing his arms and shaking his head, while Ronin was heading towards the guy.

".. What you did there, reader.. I, oddly relate to it. Weird creepy perverted men hitting on you while you weren't doing anything? Killing him was a good choice, reader."

Angel was quite literally an angel. She is nice, she is understanding and she can relate to anyone. You're great full you have her as a friend.

Misaki was giving you constant back pats, trying to comfort you from that guy. You noticed that she was trying to lighten the mood.

"Hey so.. That guy was a total creep, and what you did was totally valid- I mean as a pervert, what did he expect?"

You forced a laugh out of that one, it was funny but for the sake of Misaki, you cracked a laugh so that she wouldn't suspect anything. But you know she meant good, if it was up to her, she would've killed the guy in a second.

V was looking at you and the guy, sighing before muttering out a sentence.

"You finished him, not for fun or for entertainment.. But for your safety and because of fear. Not bad at all."

His words shock you, because you didn't expect him to say that at all. You didn't really speak to him, and when you did, he was always on some "I will find out who you are" shit. Guess V is able to feel some sympathy after all.

You didn't even notice the fact that Ronin was ripping apart that guy's chest to grab his heart, you were starting to hear some weird- crack and bone breaking noises, that you couldn't help but look backwards at the body to find Ronin trying to obtain the guys heart.

Eventually, Ronin had the heart in his hand, and looked at you with a smile

"Darlin', Would ya mind giving me his aorta? And it's that ugly guy's heart, which makes it 10x better. C'monn, do it for the poor little devil."

He looked at you, with that stupid little smile from the first time you kissed, the moment you began rotting and corrupting. You laughed, and took the heart. Since Ronin started talking about the Aorta that much, you decided to google search a bit just to know where it was for a moment like this (which you never actually expected to happen)

You carefully ripped some of the other pieces of the heart, accidentally deattaching the superior vena cava and some artery, but eventually you managed to remove the aorta, and handed it to Ronin.

"To my dearest devil, the one who corrupted me."

Angel looked at Ronin with a look of "What the actual fuck ronin." and he just laughed. You smiled and He gave you a hair ruffle and put the aorta in some weird place in his bag. Gross, but hey, he can do whatever he wants.

You looked at your clothes, It was basically stained red now, but your face, hands and pants were a total mess. You sighed, before thinking of a way on how to get home without getting the police after you.

" You look like a complete fuckin mess. Not that i'm complaining, but you probably are. How 'bout i give you a ride to my house, and stay there?"

You wanted to agree, you didn't mind the idea, but you wondered about the others, what about them? It would be quite rude to leave them here.

Before you could say anything, Misaki overheard the convo and made an idea.

"YOO IS THAT A SLEEPOVER I HEAR!?"

".. I'm not really fond of sleepovers."

"Maybe we could? I mean it is the best way to end the hangout"

". Fuck no, i don't have enough space for five people. And besides, i don't think anyone can survive the devils little hideout"

"Stop being edgy for once ronin, your living room is big enough"

".. Wow, guess i have no choice do i?"

"A sleepover it is, then."

You decided to take a photo of the body, and you were planning on sending it in the server. To have some more 'evidence' that you killed someone. Would your old self be proud of you? Absolutely not, but people change. You changed by being rotten and corrupted, and you wouldn't want it any other way.

weird..

You have this odd feeling that doesn't go away

It feels like a craving.

More killing, it screams your name.

You feel like killing more people.

Their agony, your pleasure.

Time to show them what you have become.

[squeesquoo]

Uuuuuh so I'm going to try posting an imagine/headcanon thing for once! 😅 a lot of this is probably OOC so dont mind me lol

Robotnik is actually a big sweetheart!

In an interview with Jim Carrey, he said that Robotnik just wants to be special to somebody-- but its gone megalomania, he wants to be special to EVERYBODY. He absolutely ADORES any love and affection his significant other gives him. Even though he's pretty cold and a bit selfish a lot of the time, he wants to constantly be the center of attention with his S/O.

He needs a lot of reassurance, too, as underneath all of the confidence is a deep level of self-loathing. Jim Carrey even said so himself-- in a way, Robotnik views himself as just a speck of nothing in his own eyes.

He rambles a lot about his interests-- mainly his machines. He could talk for hours and hours about them, and he's always happy when people like to listen. He likes to snuggle in with his S/O as he talks, a lot of the time.

He LOVES music and dancing. He definitely has a playlist made specifically for him and his S/O. He likes to dance with them, either slow and affectionate or fast and passionate. He just loves it. When he's by himself, he likes to dance to help him think.

He DEFINITELY makes cheesy dad jokes to try to get his S/O to laugh. Or he does other things, like making goofy faces or telling them funny science facts. I'm sure he'd have A LOT of inside jokes with his S/O.

[sweet-evie]

The Best Surprise

A glimpse into the life of a single dad who's doing his best.

masterlist || pt 4 extras || pt

Content: Mentions of afab!oc, fem!oc, nameless!oc, she/her/hers pronouns for said nameless OC. Also includes singleparent!gojo, dad!gojo, OOC Gojo (because he has parental dispositions and raising kids), Slight Angst (?), Satoru shenanigans in the extra scenes, and Shoko being happy for Dad!Gojo

A/N: Gojo’s baby daughter chronicles are back… I think. 😅

Never Grow Up pt 4

May 5, 2013

When Shoko stepped through the doors an hour ago, the first thing she noticed was the absence of her friend’s apartment’s sleek and contemporary interior design intertwined with the clutter of domestic life. 

Gojo (or should she say, the people he hired) had transformed the entire open-concept living space into a party venue decorated meticulously in celebration of his daughter’s first birthday.

Plastered all over what used to be a blank space across the dining table was a wall of streamer ribbons and balloons. Sizeable cardboard-cutout white and gold English letters artfully arranged to spell ‘Happy 1st Birthday, Satsuki!’ stood out. Pinned around it were various print-out pictures of Satsuki throughout her 1st year, ranging from the silliest solo shots to pictures of her with groups of people. And adjacent to the background was a buffet table laden with food for the party guests.

Shoko couldn’t say that she was surprised…

This was exactly the sort of thing Gojo would be into.

And that fact was never more apparent than the cheerful music blaring throughout the room, the party games that Gojo’s students enjoyed, and the dancing Sesame Street mascots hired to entertain the birthday girl.

The man looked like he was enjoying every second of it too — if his smiles and raucous laughter were anything to go by.

She hadn’t heard him or seen him like that in a long time…

Shoko would never claim to know Gojo as closely as his former lover or Geto did, but throughout the years, she had been a front-row observer to Gojo’s notable moments — from his fiendish grins with every antic he and Geto pulled to the haunting emptiness in his eyes when he lost people he treasured.

Perhaps now, she could add overflowing fatherly pride and joy to the list.

He was every inch the picture of a doting father to a bubbly baby girl. His mini-me was busy giggling and clapping and shrieking at the excitement while she stayed in Tsumiki’s arms, little pale head turning this way and that.

The better part of the event was spent playing party games while Gojo squandered away his money in the form of cash prizes, followed by everyone singing ‘Happy Birthday’ to a squealing Satsuki, before eventually winding down a little to enjoy the food and the beverages.

Shoko’s fingers twitched at her side, itching for the sweet relief of a cigarette between her fingers and the sensation of smoke filling her lungs, but unfortunately being part of a kid’s party meant the absence of alcohol or any other vice. There was something oddly comforting about being a stationary adult in the middle of a chaotic children’s party.

“So,” Gojo crooned as he sidled up next to her on the couch, “How’re you enjoying the party?”

“Could use some alcohol.”

He snorted at her joking response. “What kind of adult are you? Setting a horrible example for a child.”

“She’s a year old. She wouldn’t know what I’m saying, neither is she here.” Shoko sighed and let her gaze drift from the gaggle of Gojo’s students congregating around the gurgling toddler to Principal Yaga, Ijichi, and the other adult guests who conversed over plates piled high with food. 

The extravagance wasn’t lost on her.

When Gojo said he pulled out all the stops for this first birthday celebration, he really did.

Never mind the party decorations, the mascots, the prizes for the games, and the buffet. No practical parent concerned about budgeting would think of ordering a custom-made two-tier birthday cake slathered in white and gold buttercream frosting with gold leaves on it, and another smaller white and gold cake commissioned solely for its own destruction at a toddler’s lawless hands.

“Did you really have to get her a smash cake?”

Gojo followed her gaze, ethereal blue eyes landing on the image of his daughter on her playmat. The cake smashing and the happy birthday song was long done, but Satsuki wasn’t finished demolishing what was left of the dessert. His students cheered her on as the Fushiguro siblings stood by. Hell, even Megumi was taking pictures with Tsumiki’s phone.

“Why not? She’s clearly enjoying herself.” Gojo’s smile widened even further if that was possible, blue eyes peeking over the rims of his blackout glasses. “It’s also cute.”

It was hard to disagree. The once beautifully decorated cake had been reduced to a pile of chiffon crumbs covered in buttercream and scattered sugar flowers. “If you were any other person, I’d tell you to worry about the mess it’s making on your floor, but then again…” 

Shoko let her statement hang as she smirked at the mess around the playmat and the bits of frosted cake and confetti that clung to the baby’s head. Yeah, it was cute, but it couldn’t be easy to clean, right?

Gojo waved a flippant hand in her direction. “You sound like my mom… and Satsuki’s other grandmother.”

Right… The biological members of Satsuki’s family were all invited. It didn’t mean they all came though. There was no legal contract or binding ritual that ever officially tied Satoru to his deceased lover, so his relationship with his former girlfriend’s parents was only cordial enough to allow their presence in his daughter’s life. His former lover’s father didn’t want anything to do with Gojo and skipped this party, but the maternal grandmother was there. 

The drama that the situation implied was quite riveting — watching grandmothers going out of their way to avoid one another. Gojo’s apartment was spacious, but Shoko would wager it wasn’t enough space for the clan head’s mother.

The woman was spoiled to the luxuries that her massive estate afforded her.

As much as she cared about her friend, Gojo’s complicated family situation was a mess she did not want to be in the crossfire of.

“Speaking of grandmothers, how are they holding up?”

“No one’s fighting, so…” Gojo shrugged and trailed off.

“Looks like they’re doing a good job avoiding each other. I don’t know your mom like you do, but she looks like she’s taking it well.”

The clan head’s vigilant gaze drifted to his esteemed mother, engaged in a conversation with Principal Yaga. In the rare times Shoko had actually seen her, the woman had always been decked out in an outfit ensemble similar to Utahime’s — a tasteful mix of traditional garb and formal corporate attire. She had ditched that now though, in favor of a knee-length corporate A-line dress that looked like it belonged in a high-stakes wealthy family drama sitcom.

“Oh believe me, she’s being as polite as she can. I’d put the two of them in a room to see what happens again, but that’s a pain to deal with.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Not ridiculous, just curious.” Shoko spied the shit-eating grin unfurling on her friend’s face and she shook her head at him. 

“Curiosity killed the cat…”

“But satisfaction brought it back.”

“That never made sense to me.”

“It should, since you’re an expert at Reverse Cursed Technique and all. I would—”

“Gojo!” Tsumiki’s excited cry pierced through the music and through their conversation.

The collective expressions of eagerness and elation swept through the room of party guests as all heads turned at the sound of Tsumiki’s voice and towards the party’s center of attention: Satsuki on unsteady feet, wobbling where she stood without any support for once, placing one hesitant foot in front of the other.

And would you look at that?

A soft smile caused the corners of Shoko’s lips to turn up again. She tossed a quick glance at Gojo and found him bare-faced, blackout glasses tucked into the collar of his shirt as he marveled at his daughter’s determination.

It was nice watching Gojo bask in his paternal happiness, and that was a fact that shone as stark as the smile he sported as they watched one step turn to two, then three…

“Holy shit, she’s walking.”

=OoOoO=

“Holy shit, she’s walking.”

His own voice barely registered in his ears. Because holy shit holy shit holy shit, Satsuki was walking.

Previous experience taught him to not get too excited. For the last 2 months, his daughter had been steadily building up the strength in her legs in anticipation of taking her first steps. Shoko and Satsuki’s other pediatrician had both pointed out that she was an active baby. If she wasn’t babbling and talking a lot, she was rolling and crawling and most recently, she had been propping herself up on furniture — little feet pittering and pattering in place while she worked up the courage to let go and just try to walk.

But this… This was worlds different.

The months of tummy time and constantly switching positions had all culminated into this.

She was walking.

She was actually walking.

She’d taken four steps more than her usual combination of standing and falling.

Her party guests cheered her on, her grandmothers had rare smiles on their faces, and some of his students clapped enthusiastically to the unsteady rhythm of her walk. But Satoru, for all the power of his uncovered eyes, could only focus on the intense look of concentration on her tiny face, on her slightly wobbly legs, on her tiny feet slowly but surely approaching him, on the sound of her small voice as she mumbled, ‘Da-da’ under her breath.

And how could he not encourage her and coax her?

He’d left his place beside Shoko and knelt on the floor, placing himself directly in his daughter’s path, arms outstretched — ready to catch her the moment she would inevitably fall forward, icing-slathered face and hands and all.

The buttercream frosting could stain his expensive clothes for all he cared.

His baby was walking!

Two more unsteady steps before gravity won and a giggling baby girl tumbled into her father’s secure and steady arms.

With unrestrained pride and joy coursing through his veins, Satoru hopped to his feet with Satsuki between his hands, only stopping short of throwing her into the air to catch her again as he grinned and cooed unabashedly, peppering her chubby cheeks with playful kisses that made her squeal with laughter.

“You did it, Princess! That’s my little girl.”

 =OoOoO=

His baby girl’s first birthday party ended early in the evening. 

After leaving the after party cleanup to a crew he’d hired and entrusting Megumi and Tsumiki’s well-being to Satsuki’s nannies (even if the siblings were beyond capable of looking after themselves at this point), Satoru left the apartment with his daughter with nary a word to the children or his employees.

Still, he knew that they knew where he would be headed, and he was grateful that none of them brought it up.

He couldn’t let the day pass by without making one last and most special tribute.

To fill the silence that blanketed the entire cemetery, the sorcerer hummed a familiar nursery rhyme under his breath. He had a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. One hand carried a bag of goodies, while the other held the back of his daughter’s head. She was nestled into the carrier that he’d strapped to his front, lulled to sleep by the steady thump of her father’s heartbeat and the excitement of a birthday party.

He had wanted her awake for this specific excursion, but there was no helping her own exhaustion.

Apparently new toys, smash cakes, and Sesame Street mascots provided the perfect combination to knock out a usually active toddler.

Perhaps the gentle breeze and the oddly tranquil atmosphere of a quiet cemetery also contributed to the languorous quality of the place.

Staying on the pathway lit by street lamps and moonlight, father and daughter arrived at last, and Satoru let a sad smile grace his lips as he crouched in front of the marbled stone under a pale weeping cherry blossom tree in full bloom.

With Satsuki safely tucked against the warmth of his body, Satoru carefully unloaded the duffel bag of most of its contents. A slice of the two-tier birthday cake, assorted kikufuku from the party, candles, incense, a bottle of water, and two small white-and-gold balloons. The fresh bouquet of seasonal flowers and carnations came last, lovingly placed beside a stuffed animal her parents probably left her.

A heavy sigh left his lips as he sat on the grass and gently brushed clammy fingers against the equally cold stone. Slipping his glasses off of his face, he tucked the lenses into the collar of his shirt as he let the power of his uncovered eyes take in every inch of detail on the marbled stone — from the tiniest chips to the worn-out spots and to places caked with small patches of moss.

Her final resting place…

If it had been up to him, he would have scattered her ashes somewhere more open — on mountaintops or by the sea; places she always loved visiting and often told him about. 

Sometimes it was hard to believe that a full year had finally passed.

One year since the arrival of his greatest blessing and the departure of his greatest love.

She would have loved planning and celebrating Satsuki’s first birthday.

She would have been here — smiling and laughing with the rest of them.

“Hey, Love.” Hoarse and quiet. He deliberately ignored the way his own voice sounded strange to his ears. “Our baby girl started walking today. She had fun smashing her first cake too.” 

Maybe he would have Tsumiki put together a digital photo album of that memorable occasion. She had managed to snag plenty of pictures and video footage — especially one where Satsuki took her first steps too, and it was cute�� Way too cute. Satsuki’s mother would have loved to see that. The very thought took him back to quiet nights like this where he’d lain in bed beside the woman he loved and eagerly watched and listened as she stroked the gentle swell of her womb while fantasizing about the life Satsuki would live — the primary school her daughter would attend, the places they would visit, her first words, her inevitable temper tantrums, her toothy grins, her place in her father’s family.

She had loved her daughter before the girl was ever born.

It sucked that she never even got to hold their baby girl, never mind fulfilling all the dreams she had for their little princess.

Satsuki suddenly hiccuped in her sleep, drawing Satoru out of his musings. He was chuckling as he brushed the back of his fingers along her chubby cheek.

“She’s messy and funny and brilliant and everything you hoped she would be. It’s only been a year, but… she’ll only get better and better I’m sure. You are her mommy, after all. Party tired her out, so now she’s just sleeping.”

With a gentleness he often forgot that he had, Satoru stroked Satsuki’s hair, fondly twirling loose white curls around his fingers. Her hair wasn’t this long months ago. Tsumiki was fond of tying her hair into tiny pigtails now.

Already a year old… Where had the time gone? 

Satoru kissed the top of his daughter’s head and let his eyes wander over the grave marked with his Love’s name.

A fond yet bittersweet smile graced his lips once again. Losing his Love and being reminded of that loss will never not hurt. There was an empty space in his heart where she used to be, and though he would never delude himself into thinking he would ever be a whole person again, there was still some comfort and happiness and a greater sense of purpose to be had than just being the strongest when he knew someone well and truly needed him.

“Thank you for everything, Love. Thank you for bringing ‘Tsuki into the world for us.”

Maybe he would get to see his Love again someday.

But until then, he would love and care for their daughter just like he promised her.

[bigassmoonchild]

ima need that fucker to survive or i might go feral myself XD

as a request how does the reader react to the boys getting bullied by eachother { we all know that soap and ghost brutally roast eachother}

or

reader being ghosts S/O and bulling soap {lovingly} because ghost is ill for the day and soap gets no peace from a light roasting if si cant bully his gremlin of a girl will

(quick a/n, i almost did have simon die oopsies 🫣)

(p.s; they might mildly be ooc but i like how it turned out. please keep requests coming!!)

when you’d first joined the 141, you had been expecting professionalism. not all the little jabs everyone made to each other. ‘johnny, you’re stomping around like an elephant on stilts, figure it out’ had been the first words you’d heard for hours into the stealth mission.

you’d been taking a sip of water, what good timing, when ghost had made that quip. you’d choked on the water and had to have a silent coughing fit, completely appalled at how the lieutenant spoke.

‘i can hear you huffing from down here, ghost, so don’t start talking’ soap had quipped back. you stared, wide eyed at gaz over all the commotion. he shrugged, peeking around a corner and ducking through.

you heard a huff into the mic, probably from ghost still climbing to his vantage point. ‘i’m surprised no one’s heard us coming, with you yapping like puppies,’ price spoke over the coms. it was quiet then, for a few moments.

‘what’s red, rectangular and flying at your face?’ gaz whispered into the coms. you heard price groan. ‘a brick,’

‘that’s my job, sergeant. leave the shitty jokes to me,’ ghost snapped back. gaz looked at you and have a mocking laugh.

‘that’s my job, sergeant,’ gaz mocked through the coms in a squeaky voice. you stared at gaz, wondering where the audacity came from.

ghost huffed. ‘i don’t sound like that, you prick,’ he said. gaz spun and shot down two people advancing on you, where you’d been trying to collect the data from the computers.

something about plans to destroy major landmarks with nuclear weapons or something, you hadn’t been paying attention. and you could almost blame it on soap trying to play footsie with you.

‘ghost is always whining about something, he just uses that deep voice to hide his true self,’ gaz whispered to you. shaking your head, you pulled the drive out of the computer and stashed it in your vest.

leaving the room, you saw a man get shot across the hall. ‘good shot, ghost,’ gaz said and moved along. running through the halls, you listened to little comments and quips through your earpiece.

‘why do cows wear bells?’ ghost asked through the coms. ‘because their horns don’t work,’ you huffed a laugh.

looking and gaz, you have him an eye roll. ‘hadn’t realized i joined a team full of comedians,’ you said through the coms.

‘don’t worry, there’s more where that came from,’ ghost responded and you groaned.

‘this is the big bad ghost? telling shit dad jokes and bullying his teammates,’

‘it’s not bullying if they do it back,’ you choked back a laugh and ducked around the corner, sweeping for more enemies.

as you came outside, you glanced around for more enemies before following behind gaz. ‘if people think ghost is scary then they haven’t met me,’ soap quipped through the coms.

‘that’s like being scared of a goldfish,’ price finally spoke back up. you heaved an almost disappointed sigh.

when you’d gotten to an exfil point with gaz, you looked at soap, ghost and price. from here, you thought they’d be talking professionally, about how the mission had gone. as you drew closer, you realized it wasn’t.

‘hey,’ soap called your name. ‘settle this for us,’ you sighed heavily, staring blankly at him. ‘are there more doors or more wheels in the world?’ jesus fucking christ, you were on a team with children.

you looked around at the three. ‘how are you allowed to carry guns?’

[haihaihaitani]

Don't Be Scared ~ *Rindou Haitani*

Summary: It seems Rindou’s colleagues don’t respect you as they go out of their way to make you miserable. But you would never tell Rin this. You’re stronger than that, right?

Pairing: Rindou Haitani X G/N!Reader

Genre: Angstyish Drabble

Word Count: 686

Warning: swearing, anxiety attack, insecurities. Rindou being OOC (but I need him to be this way), hating the nickname baby (seriously I could rant about how much I hate being called this, but I think I summed it up pretty well in this)

Masterlist

A/N: I wrote this as a sort of therapy piece. Two things mentioned in this story are insecurities of mine. And sometimes I just imagine a lovely anime boy telling me he’s going to protect me. So yeah. Very self-indulgent. 

A/N 2: Also my dad had piranhas. That’s why they’re here.

You were officially having the worst day ever. Currently, you were curled up in the far corner of your husband’s office, behind his couch. You were squeezed into a tight ball, shaking and crying like a child. All because you were embarrassed in front of your husband’s coworkers.

Honestly, you couldn’t remember who it was who did it and you frankly didn’t care. You could still remember what he did clearly, even though it happened over an hour ago. You don’t think you were ever going to forget.

You were on your way to your husband’s office with some important paperwork when some guy jumped out and scared you. You hated jumpscares because you always felt stupid afterwards. However, after he jumped out, you tripped over your own feet and fell on your ass.

While you were trying to fight back your heavy breathing and tears, the guy laughed and said, “Ha! Gotcha, you whore.”

You were frozen.

A whore? Is that what these people thought of you? You thought…

You shook your head. It didn’t matter what you thought anymore. What mattered is that no one here respected you. Maybe your own husband didn’t respect you like you thought. You just wanted to disappear and believe none of this ever happened. That when you close your eyes, count to three, and open them, you’d be home again.

The door to the office opened. You heard Rindou call out to you, “Baby? Are you here? Ran said he saw you run in here.”

Baby. You were right. Your own husband didn’t even respect you to see you as anything more than a child. Were you being dramatic? Sure. But you still felt justified in being a little extreme considering the humiliation you were subjected to.

“Babe?” Rindou’s voice was much closer to you now and you felt his shoulder brush against yours. You squeezed yourself into a tighter ball to get away from him. “Hey. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Go away.”

“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me. Something is bothering you and I will do whatever I can to make it right.”

“No! It’s embarrassing and I just want to crawl into a hole and die!”

You weakly struggled against him when he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his lap. “Love, please. Let me help you.”

Taking a few breaths to try and calm yourself, you told him. You recounted the mortifying ordeal with the jumpscare and how he called you a whore. You then let your insecurities spill, how you were so stupid that you could handle a bloody massacre but couldn’t watch a horror movie. You mentioned that you didn’t think anyone respected you, much less like you and you wished you weren’t so dramatic, but explained that these were the thoughts and feelings you were having.

When you were done, Rindou didn’t say anything for a long time. You were about to ask him to say something when he whispered, “I’ll kill him.”

“What?”

“I’ll fucking kill him. I’ll gut him like a fish and feed him to your piranhas for making you feel this way.” He snapped, his voice cold and deadly.

You shook your head and burrowed yourself into his chest. “Don’t do that. You’ll make yourself work more for something those fish won’t eat.”

He gave a slight chuckle but pulled you in closer. “I’m glad you’re making jokes but I’m furious someone would make you doubt yourself like that. You are not a baby and you are not a whore. I love you so much, I married you. If you want, I’ll stop calling you baby. I call you whatever you want. But you have to know that I have never thought less of you and I never will. You are the love of my life and I will never, ever stop loving you, okay?”

You nodded. “Can we go home?”

Rindou kissed the top of your head. “Of course, my love. Right after I call Ran, okay? I have to order a hit.”

“Tell him to be slow and painful.”

“Anything for you.”

[lovinqmils]

ꜰᴀʀ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʜᴏᴍᴇ┊ avatar x human!reader

sorry this took so long to put out (T⌓T)

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍...

you manage to get lost on your way home, you unintentionally get yourself caught in a sketchy science experiment...yikes. you wake up in a foreign land (or shall I say planet) that filled with 8-10ft tall blue...creatures?

dictionary: skxawng - idiot/moron | tìnfu - silence | tsahík - female clam leader/healer | olo'eyktan - clan leader | sky people/person - human |

can also be found on wattpad: @lovinqmils

warnings: fem reader, ooc, use of y/n , loads of insults, sfw, follows avatar twow plot (aka spoils the whole thing), mention of weapons

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6

PART 4: “FRUSTRATION” 2.3k words

"thank you!" you smiled as you graciously accepted the bowl of fruits neteyam offered.

"so...what brings you here?" neteyam asked, sitting on the couch beside you.

"i figured lo'ak would be in trouble, but when you and spider didn't show up, i was...uhh...you know, disappointed...i guess," you said, fiddling with your fingers in embarrassment. you didn't realise how clingy you sounded.

suddenly, a loud noise from the other room interrupted neteyam's reply.

"i'm good!" lo'ak called out, holding onto the doorframe as he stumbled out of the room. "oh, hi, y/n!" lo'ak flashed a grin and sat down next to you.

"..are you okay? what were you doing in there?" you questioned, lifting an eyebrow in amusement.

"oh yeah, about that...my dad prohibited me from hunting & flying for a month, so I decided to practise so when he sees me next, i'll look like an expert!" lo'ak exclaimed, dramatically looking off into the distance.

"now I understand why you're always in trouble," neteyam sighed, shaking his head disappointedly.

you all spent hours continuing the conversation, laughing at stupid jokes and teasing each other relentlessly. this was the best, no, the only way you knew how to have fun with your friends. you acted like this on earth, so it was no surprise you were like this on pandora.

"why...why are you two laughing like that?" neteyam asked, exhaling as he finally caught his breath from (what he thought) was a hilarious story of yours.

you and lo'ak were curled up on the floor, cradling your stomachs as you laughed.

"sh..shut up, you skxwang!" lo'ak playfully replied,

"boys, you better not be messing around!" the stern voice from outside caused you both to shoot off the floor.

'why didn't I think of this!? why did I stay for so long!? I'm going to die! it's over for me!' you frantically looked around the house, desperate for a way out.

as if reading your thoughts, lo'ak tried to comfort you by saying, "don't worry, the worst they can do is send you back to the lab!"

you ignored your friend and ran straight into a random room of the house, holding your breath fearfully as you prayed not to get caught.

jake walked into the house, neytiri & her daughters following close behind him. lo'ak and neteyam stood awkwardly in the middle of the living room, staring silently at their father.

jake glanced at the spare bedroom, which had its door wide open, and sighed, "girls go to your room." neytiri looked at her mate with confusion; she, kiri and tuk had only run into jake on the way back from their day out, so she had no idea what was happening.

once kirk and tuk had got out of sight, jake turned to the spare bedroom and firmly called out, "y/n, come out."

your whole world froze, and you felt your heart drop to your stomach; indeed, it was over for you now. you bit on your tongue and reluctantly walked out of the room.

"...wait outside, I need to talk to you." you immediately followed jakes request, lowering your head in respect as you practically ran out of the house. you stiffly stood outside the sully residence, too embarrassed by the harsh stares of the elderly na'vi below to move from your current position.

"what was a disgusting creature like her doing in my house!?" neytiri's furious shouting caused you to flinch, but intriguing you nonetheless as you moved closer to the door to eavesdrop.

"she's our friend...and we weren't doing anything dangerous!" lo'ak retorted, though he dared not raise his voice at his mother.

"i'm pretty certain I forbid you both from any sort of social interactions outside of your expected responsibilities," jake angrily replied.

"I am the one to blame. it's my duty as the eldest to watch over my siblings; I failed to do so and even disobeyed you myself. So I take full responsibility." neteyam apologised, stepping forward in front of lo'ak.

"how dare either of you let someone of such a filthy and despicable species step foot into this household!" neytiri 's hateful words wounded a special place in your heart. you had known about neytiri's extreme dislike for humans beforehand, but you couldn't help but feel upset after being described with so many insults.

jake placed a reassuring hand on his lover's shoulder before sending his two sons back into their rooms with a powerful glare that said, 'I'll deal with you later.'

you stood paralysed with shock as you heard jake tell Neytiri that their whole family must leave the omaticaya and seek safety in a nearby oceanic clan, as the RDA is hunting them, which could endanger the entire clan.

"I don't understand why we have to bring the girl with us; she serves us no purpose." neytiri sighed, rubbing her temples.

'I'm going with them!?...is that what jake wanted to tell me...?'

"y/n can breathe the air on pandora without a mask, and if she were captured, she'd surely be researched. which means that the RDA could obtain the device that allows them to breathe freely."  jake explained (though he'd never admit it); he was afraid of the possibility of exopacks becoming useless.

'is the fact ill become a cheap science experiment not valid enough!?' you scoffed in disbelief.

"how do you know the clan will accept her? if she is rejected, are you planning to go somewhere else?" neytiri asked, a hint of annoyance in her voice. she could barely tolerate being around you. let alone the idea of her whole family revolving around you wasn't exactly on her bucket list.

"various islands surround the clan, so we can invite a couple of scientists to look after and live with her."

jake's words caused your heart to drop to your stomach, was his alternate plan seriously making you spend the rest of your life on a remote island with scientists!? as the tears welled in your eyes, you felt your frustration building until you couldn't take it anymore. you clenched your fist and ran back to the lab, not daring to look back.

—————————————————————

"...i know they don't like me, but to ignore that his children and i are friends is so...insensitive!" you groaned. you were lying in florence's lap, bitterly explaining your side of the story as she drew in her 'research journal'.

"i think he's just putting his family first," florence responded, leaning over to grab another colouring pencil.

"yeah, right!" you scoffed, "does it not bother you that he's pretending he wasn't even human? he was born and raised on earth, whether he likes it or not; that's the truth."

"jake's probably trying to forget about his old life and focus on his new one." florence reasoned, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

"i'm trying to complain bout somebody! stop reasoning with them," you huffed, "have you seen spider? he would agree with me," you hadn't heard from spider since the 'incident'; you ran off as soon as help had arrived, so you didn't see where everyone went.

"about that..." florence started, awkwardly clearing her throat. "the recom squad...kidnapped him."

"what!?" you exclaimed, sitting up and turning to look at florence. "why did nobody tell me!? why is everybody so calm!? why has nobody gone to rescue him!?"

"enough questions! y/n, there's only so much we can do. their location and motives are unknown." florence exhaled, "he'll be okay. spider is a strong kid."

"...ehm, uhh florence? is...uh...y/n in there?" you shifted your attention to the lab entrance at the sound of jake's voice. his voice wasn't firm; instead, he sounded...embarrassed?

florence stood up and mouthed the words, "do. not. move." she then walked over to the door and welcomed jake into the lab. "I'll give you two some privacy," florence smiled and left the room.

"I already know what you're going to say," you mumbled, angrily fidgeting with your fingers. "don't stress yourself. you won't have to be around a 'disgusting creature like me' for much longer. I'm perfectly fine staying with florence."

"neytiri doesn't mean it. she has a bit of a...grudge against the sky people because of the war." jake responded, kneeling to make eye contact with you.

"sky people? it's so aggravating to hear you deny your humanity! sorry to break it to you, but nothing can erase the fact that you are a human!" you shouted. you knew his life was none of your business, and you overreacted a bit, but you've said too much to back out now.

"was. i was a human. I'm not one anymore." jake corrected, letting out a frustrated sigh as he stood up.

"whatever you want to believe," you scoffed, "but you can rest easy because I'm not going anywhere with you." you got off the floor and angrily walked to your bedroom.

—————————————————————

"why do ikrans have to be so uncomfortable!" you complained, twisting and turning as you tried to find a comfortable spot on neteyam's ikran.

"shut up! at least your small enough to lie down," lo'ak groaned, slowing down to ride next to you and neteyam.

"will you two skxawngs ever stop fighting?" neteyam sighed, shaking his head in exhaustion.

"I'm not even sure if I'll be allowed to stay. so i need to annoy lo'ak as much as possible cause i might not get a chance to do it again," you explained, flashing a petty grin at lo'ak.

"if they don't let you in, what do you plan to do?" kiri asked, peering out from behind lo'ak.

"your dad said i'd live with some scientists on a nearby island. which is a really exciting life plan to look forward to!" you exclaimed, sarcastically smiling.

"dad! my butt hurts...are we there yet?" tuk whined, pouting slightly.

"tuk, you've asked that question five times in the last 10 minutes. does it look like we are still travelling!?" lo'ak groaned, looking at the intricate structure of awa'atlu. the water was clear, beautifully displaying each animal and plant that resided in the ocean.

"tìnfu!" jake shouted, tugging on the reigns (??) of his ikran as he prepared to land on the approaching island.

"you ready?" neteyam asked, glancing back at you as his ikran landed on the shore of the Metkayina reefs.

"...i wanna go home," you whispered, jumping off the ikran and onto the soft sand of the awa'atlu.

"i know, so do i," he replied, giving you a soft, reassuring smile.

the people of the metkayina clan started to take notice of their new visitors. judgementally, pointing and gossiping about you all. You unconsciously started walking backwards, trying to keep your distance from the crowd.

"what is it? is that supposed to be a tail?" a young metkayina boy mocked, pointing at neteyam's and lo'ak's tails. the boy had a braided bun that eventually connected to his queue.

"is that a tawtute?" you heard someone exclaim.

"what's a human doing here?" someone else shouted.

"it's so...ugly!" you felt somebody roughly pull on your hair; you uttered a painful 'ow' before tugging away to look for the culprit. unsurprisingly, it was the same boy that mocked neteyam and lo'ak before, and he was already mischievously smirking at you, you could tell he'd be a problem in the future.

you had zoned out for most of the conversation between jake and the metkayina tribe leaders. you kept your focus on the sand below, hoping that if you counted enough grains of sand, nobody would notice your presence.

"what use would the human be here? we already have two! at least they provide some help!" the tsahìk, ronal proclaimed, inspecting every inch of your body before making eye contact. "whats wrong now? does she not have the ability to communicate?"

you 'd failed to greet ronal with the 'oel ngati kameie' gesture, which is how you'd start a conversation with somebody more respected that you. which led her to believe you didn't understand her.

"...no! sorry! i didn't know if it'd be disrespectful to do the...gesture, cause I'm not like..." you nervously apologised.

'I'm such an idiot! now they probably think i don't respect them...'

"what use will you be to us?" ronal asked, fiercely staring into your eyes.

"...uhh...I can...no I'm.." you looked at jake for assistance, but he only motioned for you to answer her question.

'I hope I'm still a good pickpocket...'

"I'm..sneaky?" you held your hands out, showing five separate items. two daggers and three armbands. you cleared your throat, "i mean, my swift movements will be helpful against enemies."

the na'vi you had stolen from gasped in shock as they checked their bodies and realised their belongings were in your hands.

"...here, you can take your things back," you spoke, placing the daggers and armbands on the sand below you.

"toruk makto and his family will stay with us," the olo'eyktan, Tonowari proclaimed, "as well as the young human girl." he gestured towards you. "teach them the way of the water, so they do not have to suffer the shame of being useless."

"thank you," jake and neytiri bowed their heads in respect, sighing with relief.

ronal placed a hand on your shoulder and said, "you have potential, so don't become a burden."

you gave her an assertive nod and replied, "i appreciate your kindness tsahìk, i will be nothing but helpful."

the moment ronal was out of sight, you turned to lo'ak with a playful grin plastered on your face, "that was smooth wasn't it?"

"that was so cool!" you gave him a high-five and giggled playfully.

"neteyam! wasn't y/n so cool," lo'ak asked, quickening his pace to catch up with him.

"youre such a show off" neteyam rolled his eyes "...but that was cool!" neteyam laughed and slung his arms around you and lo'ak.

"your arm is so heavy! get off," you jokingly (though a part of you wasn't lying) whined, however your complaints drowned out by lo'ak's and neteyam's teasing laugh.

'i could get used to this!'

taglist: @myh3artttt @69slay69

i hope you enjoyed it! now we are onto the main plot i will finally have more ideas (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

[mrs3vil]

𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐕 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢 “𝙝𝙤𝙩“ ★

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𝐟. gabriel o'hara, miguel o'hara, peter b parker ❞ 🎀

𝐢’𝐦 𝐬𝐨 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 with gabriel o'hara I had to insert him. also this is not smut or sexual (i mean technically it kinda is but whatever) only tws, old men and flustered spider people. also gabriel is kinda ooc 𓈒*◞🎻

𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 tried to keep the reader as gender neutral as possible! sorry of there are any specifications, also sorry for any mistakes but english isn't my first language!! 𓈒*◞🎻

𝗚𝗔𝗕𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗟 𝗢’𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗔

He thought you were talking about another Gabriel O'hara at first. You were mindlessly talking on the phone with one of your "spider friends" while walking right next to his private lab, loudly enough so that he could hear. He stopped doing whatever he was doing for a moment, moving his goofy goggles on his forehead. His heart beated faster against his chest, as if it was about to destroy his rib cage and come out just for you. It was the only thing on his mind for a few days, how your voice shaped perfectly those words, he would do anything to be called such things by you again. Now that he knew you liked him back, he was much more confident when awkwardly flirting with you.

𝗠𝗜𝗚𝗨𝗘𝗟 𝗢’𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗔

He couldn't believe his ears. He's been "flirting" with you for some months, if of course, you consider being treated like a normal human being with feelings and opinions a flirt. He thought you weren't really interested, when really you just didn't even realize he was being "extra nice" to you, or at least, his idea of extra nice. But you had to admit, he wasn't bad looking, he wasn't at all actually he was hot, and apparently you were happy to admit it to Jess too. He swallowed as he leaned closer to the core of your voices, paying attention to staying hidden. He didn't know why he was being so dramatic about it, he felt like a little school girl, but suddenly, he desperately wanted to hear you praise him again.

𝗣𝗘𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗕 𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞𝗘𝗥

It immediately boosted his ego, a proud grin spreading across his features, finally his terrible dad jokes paid off. He listened carefully as you talked with one of the many Spiderwomen that were friends with you as you two giggled like to little girls at a pijama party. You started complimenting things he never realized about himself, and he couldn't do anything but lean closer to hear further how hot you thought he was. He could have listened for hours, if only he didn't trip on a wandering peace of paper that seemed to have appeared from nowhere. Your eyes widened, your hands reaching to cover your mouth, trying to hide your red face. "Hello..."

‧₊˚ ୨ HAHAKS im sorry if i didn't include hobie i just didn't have any inspiration for him today :( if yall liked this post tho i could include him in a pt 2 or smth. also reblogs and comments are very appreciated! goodnight and stay safe babes <3

[halfway-happyyy]

into gold II {rooster bradshaw}

synopsis: rooster bradshaw’s emotional baggage could fill a cargo container ten times over. he is the single father of a precocious and bubbly six-year-old, and despite his best efforts, has fallen head over heels for someone arguably more damaged than him- his daughter’s first grade teacher.

characters- bradley ‘rooster’ bradshaw, frankie bradshaw, female ooc scout wallis (she/her pronouns)

or- the one where scout falls for Frankie before she falls for rooster.

word count- 2400+

read part 1 here

When Rooster allows himself a couple of rare moments to reflect on Sunday morning, it’s easy to feel blue about the state of all things. But then Frankie will tell him a joke she heard at school:

-What does a cloud wear under his raincoat?

I haven’t the faintest idea, Frankie.

-Thunderpants!

Or she’ll hand him a photo she drew of him in his… F/A-18? Or she’ll curl into his side in front of the television and fall asleep. And he'll know then, without a doubt, that he is the luckiest man in the world. He’s reminded of this fact as he rolls to a halt in front of Penny’s house. The beautiful sound of Frankie’s laughter floats in on the breeze through the Bronco’s open windows and makes him smile. He watches sheer joy bloom on her face as Maverick plays with her in the front yard, and something heavy tugs on his heartstrings.  

You should be here, dad.

Rooster exits the car to lean against the passenger door, not wanting to ruin their moment just yet.

“Papa!”

Frankie catches sight of her father and bolts from Maverick’s embrace to run into Rooster’s outstretched arms, and he reckons there’s no better feeling in the universe. He holds her to him, peppering the top of her head with dozens of kisses.

“Hi papa,” Frankie’s cheeks are rosy and she’s breathless from play.

“Hi Frankie. Did you miss me?”

She nods fervently, circling her tiny arms tighter around him.

“But you had fun with Mav and Penny, right?”

Frankie nods again.

“Well, well, well. You certainly look like you had a good weekend.” Maverick surveys the sight of Rooster with a wry smile.

The younger pilot laughs sheepishly and scratches at the back of his head. “There’s a reason I never really go out with those guys anymore.”

Maverick’s laughter is booming. “You deserved it, kid.” His gaze drifts to Frankie’s and he bends down to her level. “Go see Pen about some cookies before you leave, Frank. She just made a batch of fresh ones.”

Frankie squeezes Rooster’s hand and dashes off in the direction of the front door.

“You bringing her down to the beach?” Maverick asks.

Rooster nods. “Dogfight football Sundays are her favourite. Will we see you there?”

“Penny and I wouldn’t miss it.” Maverick affirms.

His expression is unreadable; Rooster gets the feeling he’s about to ask him something, when Frankie bursts from the house, her tiny hands laden with two bulging Ziploc bags of homemade chocolate chunk cookies.

“Looks like you won the jackpot, Frank.” Rooster muses and watches her place the cookies carefully into her green dinosaur backpack. “Well, we should probably head out sweetheart. Did you thank Mav and Penny for hanging out with you this weekend?”

The elder pilot bends down so that Frankie can wrap her arms around his neck. “We had a good time didn’t we, Frank?”

“Yeah Mav!” She grins and plants a sloppy kiss on his stubbled cheek.

“Don’t get too carried away with your goodbyes, Frank. Mav and Penny are meeting us at the beach in a little bit.”

Rooster watches her beautiful blue eyes widen in sheer delight.

“Dogfight football!” She squeals and doesn’t waste a second before jumping into the back of the waiting Bronco.

~

“You’re late, Bradshaw!” Jake yells an hour later and is about to rib him some more, but he falters when he notices Frankie in tow behind him. “Well, if it ain't Frank the Tank!” He jogs to where they’re standing and gathering her into his arms, spins her around in dizzying cirlces. The girlish trill of her laughter fills the humid saltwater air around them.

Rooster marvels at how well Jake does with children and reckons with a wry smile, that perhaps there’s still hope for the elder pilot yet.

“I’m wearing the boots you got me!” Frankie exclaims, excitedly.

Jake bends down to get a good look at the fire-engine red cowboy boots he had picked up for her on his last trip home to Austin.

“So you are, and might I add that they have never looked more stunning on anyone else before.”

Frankie’s cheeks glow pink- she’s about to say something else when she notices Scout a little way beyond the crowd and her eyes widen in delighted surprise.

“Miss Wallis!”

Scout’s eyes light up when she catches sight of her, and she raises a hand in greeting. “Hi Frankie!”

Rooster hadn’t considered her being there; figures that if he had known, he might have thought twice about coming. Especially with Frankie.

“What on Earth are you doing at dogfight football, Miss Wallis?” Frankie’s chest heaves from running through the sand to get to her.

Scout catches Rooster’s gaze for a second and he remembers instantly, the feeling of her hand in his two nights ago and how it felt like he’d known her for years instead of a mere couple of hours, and it’s all he can do not to gather Frankie in his arms and take her back home.

To spare them both heartache that would ensue sooner or later.

“Well, a little birdie flew by and told me that there was going to be a football game on the beach today, and I figured maybe I should drop by to cheer everyone on. What do you think?”

“I think that’s a good idea, Miss Wallis. Can we do it together?”

“I’d like that, Frankie.” Scout beams widely and holds out her hand for Frankie to take, which she accepts happily.

Despite the girls' enthusiastic cheering, a grueling hour passes beneath the relentless San Diego sun, and Rooster (out of breath and embarrassingly sunburnt) is the first to admit that he’s played better games. Jake and Coyote take turns teasing him mercilessly about it, but he can’t seem to take his eyes off Scout and Frankie gallivanting up and down the beach like a couple of old friends. Frankie picks out shells and rocks that strike her fancy, and Scout drops them into the pockets of her sundress for safe keeping.

When Frankie catches up with Rooster and Penny a mile down the beach, she’s breathless with triumph. “You’ll never guess how many shells I found, Papa. Look at this one,” She whispers and opens her tiny palm to reveal a miniscule, speckled cowrie shell.

“That’s a pretty cool one, Frank. You'll have to add it it to your collection." Rooster eyes Scout’s dress, which had been knee-length thirty minutes ago, and was now hanging around her ankles, the hem of it damp from sand and saltwater. "Did you thank Miss Wallis for hanging onto them for you?”

“I did, Papa. Can I go show some of my shells to Bob and Phoenix?” Rooster nods and watches Frankie bound away, her red boots kicking up a sandstorm as she disappears down the beach.

Scout clears her throat. “For what it’s worth, I think it’s why they make these dresses with such deep pockets.”

Rooster turns to her then; wishes for a moment that fate had intervened seven years earlier, instead of two days ago.

There’s no such thing as ‘right person, wrong time’ Bradley. The right person will never come along at the wrong time.

He hears his mother’s voice so clearly some days, it’s as if she’s still around somewhere.

“I never got to thank you for Friday night.” Scout finally offers.

Rooster frowns. “What for?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard such a fantastic rendition of a Jerry Lee Lewis song. It’s like you were born to play it.”

Rooster muses at how close she came to the mark. “I don’t have very many memories of childhood before the age of six, but my old man used to love that song.” They wander back to the group of pilots and significant others that had elected to stay after the game for the bonfire.

Jake's busy tossing the football back and forth to Coyote, but when he notices Scout, he winks and asks, "How'd I look out there, Wallis?"

She’s about to respond but Phoenix beats her to it, her tone deapan. “Like a magnet for melanoma, Bagman.”

A chorus of laughter erupts, and all Jake can do is roll his eyes and say, “It seems we have a comedian in our midst, friends.”

“You looked a picture of unbridled athleticism, honey.” Scout giggles by way of putting the flames out, and drops into a seat next to Maverick.

Rooster takes this opportunity to introduce the two. “Maverick, this is Scout Wallis. She just so happens to be Frankie's teacher."

The delicate creases next to the elder pilot’s eyes deepen as he offers her a wide beam. “So, it’s you we have to thank for the plethora of silly jokes Frankie likes to tell us.”

Scout’s cheeks redden before she offers a sheepish shrug. “It turns out that in the state of California, bad jokes are a prerequisite for primary schoolteachers.”

Maverick’s laugh is hearty and booming, but when it subsides, his expression is thoughtful. “In all seriousness though, you’re doing a wonderful job with her.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Captain. Frankie is a dream to have in the classroom.”

If Maverick wonders how Scout knew to refer to him by his naval rank, he makes no mention of it. Rooster, however, does wonder. He's about to ask her about it when Penny leans over and says, “You were at the Hard Deck on Friday night, weren’t you?”

Oh shit.

Maverick’s eyebrows rise in mild amusement.

“I was yeah,” Scout admits. “I had the pleasure of a very special performance.” She winks at Rooster who fights the urge to drop his gaze.

“Let me guess, he hit you with the old tried and true, Great Balls of Fire?”

“He sure did,” Penny laughs. “Had the whole bar in a tizzy.”

“His dad used to play that song on the piano like his life depended on it.” Maverick murmurs, by way of explanation.  

Rooster could see the wheels turning behind those beautiful eyes of hers again, and where he had never easily shared any part of himself with Frankie’s mother, he was struck suddenly by the want to share every part of himself with Scout. This notion made him uncomfortable for a multitude of reasons; least not of which was because his best friend, who seemed just as crazy about her as he was, was only a couple of feet away.

“I take it there’s history between the two of you?” Scout's voice shatters the muddled silence.

Rooster laughs and glances sideways at the surrogate-father figure before him. “Yeah, something like that.”

The night unfolds the way in which Sunday nights often do for Rooster and Frankie: with an abundance of friends and family, the warm salty air a salve for their souls. Frankie and Scout take a couple of turns throwing the football back and forth; Rooster notices the spiral Scout has on her and grows even more bewitched by the woman before him. When she’s had enough for the night, she drops into a seat next to Penny, their quiet chatter a soothing comparison to the hoots and hollers of the pilots around them.

A little while later, Frankie (exhausted from the day’s events, and with a stomach full of sparkling water and hotdogs) wanders over to where Scout’s seated, climbs onto her lap, and promptly falls asleep. Rooster watches Scout’s arms instinctively circle his daughter’s slumbering figure, and a chunk of ice the size of texas chips away from his heart. With a slight pang, he knows their time to leave has arrived.

“You’ll be hard-pressed to pry them apart, Bradshaw.” Jake’s Southern drawl is thicker under the weight of the couple of beers he had under his belt.

“Don’t I know it.” Rooster sighs and pushes himself from his seat to wander over to where Frankie and Scout are. He drops down into the sand in front of Frankie to rub the flat of his palm over her small back.

“Is it time to go?” Scout whispers.

Rooster nods and waits a second for Frankie to stir. “Come on Frank, it’s time to go home to bed.”

His daughter opens her eyes, her expression stupefied from the weight of sleep. “I don’t want to, Papa.” She pleads.

Rooster kisses the top of her head. “I know, sweetheart, but it's time.” She lets him lift her into his arms without any more fuss. It only takes a second before he feels the steady rise and fall of her chest against his shoulder to know that she’s back to sleep. He turns to Scout, not wanting to say goodbye but accepting the inevitable. “It was a pleasure seeing you again today.”

Scout gazes up at him. “The pleasure was all mine, Rooster. She’s a great kid.”

It’s only after they’ve returned home for the evening, Frankie tucked into bed, and his own eyelids fighting the lulling tug of sleep that he remembers Frankie’s precious shells. He makes a mental note to text Jake about them tomorrow. He lets his mind drift back to that wondrous woman before sleep settles in for good; wonders again how she knew Maverick’s rank, and how she possesses an ease to military life that most civilians don’t usually have.

Maverick stops by the next morning for coffee before Frankie’s awake for the day.

“There’s something going on between you and Frankie’s teacher.” His tone is mild and lacks any accusation.

“Well you certainly are direct this morning, aren’t you?” Rooster takes a deep sip from his mug, savoring the slightly bitter taste of the roasted beans on his tongue, before he answers no.

Maverick shifts in his chair. “But you’d like there to be?”

Rooster hesitates before nodding.

“You have to tread carefully here, kid. Frankie’s crazy about her.”

And so is Jake Seresin.

“Yeah well, Jake beat me to it, so there isn’t much else to say.”

Maverick’s viridian gaze twinkles knowingly in the light pouring in through the kitchen window, giving his head an almost imperceptible half-shake. “The feeling was mutual, Rooster. Everyone knew it.”

They sit in silence for a moment before Rooster asks, “Did you wonder how she knew to call you Captain? You weren’t wearing anything that gave you away.”

Maverick finishes the rest of his coffee and sets the mug down against the wooden tabletop. “What did you say her last name was?”

“Wallis.”

“She teaches at Mason elementary?”

Rooster nods.

Maverick shifts again in his seat and closes his eyes as if he were sifting through a mental rolodex of memories. “I believe her husband was top of his class at NAS Fallon in 2016. A truly great fighter pilot.”

Rooster blanches. “She's married?”

Maverick grows somber. “He died in enemy combat almost five years ago now.”

[aprilthearcher]

burning red [roman roy x reader]

word count: 1.8k

[somewhat angst]

warnings: curse words, ooc roman ?, english is not my first language, not edited, rushed ending.

a/n: somewhat inspired by “red” and “false god” by taylor, idk i was just listening to these two songs on loop. i’m also supposed to be studying, but instead i wrote this, so enjoy! love me some greg sprinkles, couldn’t not include him. alsooo, this could read as being part of the same story as my previous roman blurb, but you won't have any problems if you haven't read it.

Loving Roman was complicated yet insanely easy, too tiresome at times and then incredibly invigorating. He had that effect on people, or maybe just her. Everyone else was probably too complicated for her to like. Not funny enough, not witty or smart enough, not loud enough. No one was Roman enough, not even across the whole damn world. 

Getting him off her mind had been more difficult than she’d expected, probably because (Y/N) only realised her feelings for him after she couldn’t stop thinking about him. He had taken over her whole body without knowing. It was Roman’s lips she imagined when kissing blonde, ginger, brunette guys at pubs; it were Roman’s eyes she thought of when her friends would ask her about her favourite colour; it was Roman’s face she conjured up in her head when they’d ask about her type of man. 

At first, she believed it to be some sort of sick joke the Universe was trying to play on her: discovering she had feelings for her long-time friend — one she’d known since they were in diapers, who would grab her by her ponytail whenever she was paying attention to his siblings instead of him (just him) —, barely two or three weeks in her first year of university, a university that was on a whole other continent, separated by an entire ocean. Still, (Y/N) knew she could fly back home in a couple of hours — “I’ll arrange a jet for you if you wanna come down”, her dad would always say over the phone —, but the idea of seeing him again with this new information in her head and heart (that couldn’t help but jump at the mention of him) terrified her.

Her mind would make her remember him and his antics in the worst possible times: while dancing with some random guy at a club, his hands on her hips, the cheap cologne contrasting the rich scented one Roman couldn’t get enough of. On a first date, set up by her friends who believed she had to let go of this “prude” behaviour and just let someone take her to their bed. When joking with the guys that approached her and her friends at the bar, knowing exactly what Roman would think of them, the cruel comments he’d throw, the silly faces. The soft eyes when they were both too drunk to even speak a coherent sentence, although most times nothing was coherent with Roman. She had tried looking for those same bright eyes; once more, she ended up disappointed. None of them were Roman. None of them ever will be, no matter how much (Y/N) tried to shape them into a replica of him. All of Roman was unique. 

Hence, the dreadful turmoil inside her stomach once Shiv, with some tint of malice in her eyes directed at Roman, introduced her to Tabitha. “Roman’s companion”, she’d said. The blonde, curly haired woman greeted (Y/N) with an eager smile on her face. She said her name at the same time both of them shook hands. A voice inside her head told her this was all wrong. How long? Where did it happen? Why? Why? Why now that she was back?

“Oh, you don’t need to tell me your name,” Tabitha mentioned playfully, a short roll of her eyes a second later. “You’re all Roman’s been talking about lately”.

“Only lately?” Shiv laughed, taking a sip from her glass she focused her eyes on Roman , then (Y/N). “Roman’s always talking about (Y/N). I mean, he was practically her lap dog when they were children.”

“Oh, fuck off Siobhan,” Roman bark back.

“Well, he only mentioned you as of now.” The knot in her stomach tightened. The worst part was she could see Tabitha hadn’t said it out of spite, nor jealousy, but as a fleeting comment to add something more to the conversation.

He hadn’t mentioned her to Tabitha? Not even once? She had tried everything to block him out of her head, to keep him out of her dreams and fantasies; to catch herself every time she was going to bring up him in a conversation again, and he didn’t say her name until he found out (Y/N) was coming back to New York? What kind of sick fuck was he? What kind of sick fuck was she, devoting probably her whole life to Roman fucking Roy?

“Oh,” (Y/N) managed to croak out before her father appeared beside her and whispered in her ear that she should spend some time chatting with the other guests.

                                                       * * *

Cousin Greg was great company, quite weird before you took in the awkwardness that seemed to surround him and make him stick out like a sore thumb in the midst of all these old, rich people, but great nonetheless. He had asked her about her years in London, what she studied and what she did for fun, her friends and hobbies. (Y/N) found herself enjoying the night, sitting on a couch by his side, meanwhile both of their cheeks were getting rosier and rosier with every new cup of alcohol brought to them. Greg was in the middle of telling her about how he had screwed up the first day at his job on one of the parks owned by Waystar, cracking up from time to time from how she tried to hide her laugh in order to keep the attention away from them, when two hands settled on his shoulders, hard and making a noise that was apparent that the gesture was meant to at least hurt him a little. Roman was behind him with a clench jaw and big, maniac eyes. 

“Greeeg, I think Tom was looking for you, man”.

“Oh, really?” Greg turned his upper body in Roman’s direction, which from the side looked somewhat weird because of his tall, lanky form. “Because, because I just saw him and he didn’t say anything”.

“Yes, oh really, man. And he said if you didn’t go talk to him right now, he would fire your sorry ass”.

Greg was on his feet quicker than she'd expected after seeing him drown glass after glass with her. He towered over her for a moment, saying a quick “see you later” before going in search of Tom. 

“You’re mean, Roman”.

“Yeah, well, tell me something I don’t fucking know”. 

They fell silent for a second. Around them, people were still in mindless conversation, setting down empty cups on the waiter’s tray while picking up new ones from another one. Alcohol seemed to be the only way to survive a family gathering at the Roy’s, even a harmless one. 

“You wanna get out of here?” Roman asked. She turned her head to the right to face him, he was already looking at her. His eyes no longer had the maniac fog blurring them, there was now a tranquil pool of honey.

                                                    ***

“My dad is probably gonna be mad if he finds out I ditched the party”.

“Please, (Y/N), since when did you become such a goody two shoes?” Roman leaned against the railing of the terrace, following her with his eyes while she approached him and finally set her elbows on top of the banister. From this position, he looked taller. “Don’t tell me you were like this in London. I mean, with no one to hover over you, you sure had a looot to do, didn’t you?”

“I went to London to study, remember? Not to go out and get drunk every night.”

“Well, I’m sure if you had been with me, you could’ve done both.”

“Yeah, probably, but you weren’t with me.”

“Whose fault is that, huh?” He crossed his arms over his chest. Her eyebrows raised.

“Are you saying it was my fault? We haven’t seen each other for how long and it was all my fault?”

“Why are you acting like it isn’t? It literally is, (Y/N), you left m.. you left and, and you never came back.” He had walked a few steps away from her. 

“It’s not like you couldn’t have visited, Roman. Just ask daddy for one of his jets, it’s literally that easy.”

“Yes, but - but you left, (Y/N). You left, and it’s not like you chose some university a state away, you chose one a whole continent away! That’s got to mean something!”

“As if Roman fucking Roy couldn’t get one goddamn plane and fly over to London!” She had abandoned her previous position, now fully facing Roman, who was still a couple of feet away, getting closer to the door. He was trying to run, just like it he always did whenever they fought.

“I didn’t - I didn’t want you to get annoyed by me! To realise what a true moron I was. Then you barely talked to me after you arrived at your fancy university and - and started your very difficult subjects.”

(Y/N) closed her eyes in confusion for a moment. Though it was easier to throw everything at him, (Y/N) knew that she was also responsible for their lack of communication over these last years. 

Only the bustling, almost never-ending nightlife of New York could be heard. Her chest hurted, her eyes would fill with tears at any point now. She was tired and drunk, and just fucking missed Roman too much for them to be fighting the first night she was back in the city.

“Now you are not saying anything?” Roman broke the silence. He was closer to the door, she noticed. “You know what? Fuck you, (Y/N). Fuck you for making feel all this – all this fucking, fucking shit!”

“What fucking shit?” She asked quietly, desperate for an answer, the answer.

“I - I don’t know what fucking shit, just shit, okay?”

“Say it.”

Roman didn’t respond, instead he turned her back on her, walking towards the door. Before he could reach the handle, she screamed at him.

“Fucking say it, Roman.”

“I’ve just told you, I don’t know. It’s just shit, okay? All of it,” he screamed back, opening up his arms, exaggerating his point. “I - I run out of breath and then my chest is all funny, and and I hate seeing you laughing with fucking Greg of all people. It’s shit, fucking shit!”

Drawing closer to him, she tested his limits. He was breathing hard from all the screaming and moving around the terrace to put distance between them, but he didn’t stop when (Y/N) got so close their bodies were almost touching. It was her with whom physical closeness wasn’t a problem, he always told himself it was because of how close they were pretty much their whole lives.

They only looked at each other for a few moments, the waves of conflict had calmed down fast and efficiently enough that for anyone else it would seem like nothing had happened between them. 

Roman wished — deep, deep down — that they could stay like this forever, without having to go back and confront his family, especially his father; that they could make this terrace, above Logan’s place ironically enough, a little haven, only for them; that they would never be found.

[heartsformars]

Can we please get Loona from Helluva Boss x Male Reader who is a popular YouTuber/Streamer? I imagine Loona would become a "Where's Waldo?" situation lmao. Thanks for your time!

“My stupid Lovely Star!” Loona x Male! Reader

Summary; [1] General Headcanons [2] You had hidden your relationship for a long time after you became a couple, however, one day you have a small conversation with Loona…. The problem is that you forgot to turn off your microphone

Contains (¡TW!);; Established Relationship, mostly fluff, cuss words, blitzo being a overprotective dad, Maybe OOC

A/N;; YOU WANT IT U GOT IT !! I know I'm a little late on this one, and I'm sorry!!! This is actually my first time writing something from Loona, however I am moderately proud of the result. You didn't specify if you wanted One-shots or Hcs so I decided to write both. I hope you like it!

[1]

— Loona is usually a somewhat calm girlfriend, yes sometimes she tends to punch you but mostly it's usually in a joke manner or when you get her really nervous.

— She would probably act like she didn't care only to later stay up late watching your streams and replaying them on loop while lounging around at work.

— It will be up to you or not whether you decide to keep your relationship secret or public.

— Even if she would prefer you to keep it a secret, since she really doesn't want to be the center of attention for some time. She loves you, but I don't see her liking to appear on camera.

— Anyway, even with your "famous streamer" status she usually has a normal relationship with you in spite of that. She would treat you the same, although in a weird way it fed her ego to go out with someone famous

— Did I mention that Loona would definitely be somewhat jealous? Every time she sees pages or posts from Fangirls or Fanboys unconsciously growl at her phone. And suddenly, she's in a bad mood all day long.

— at first, she would avoid in EVERY way possible for you to meet blitz.

— But you will eventually, don't worry.

— And it really depends too much if he would become a fan of yours, although I don't see blitzo as someone who would watch YouTubers or Streamers….. — But fan or not his reaction would be kind of the same. — Pretending to be okay in front of loona and threatening to kill you if you ever do anything to his baby. — But take it easy! He will do nothing as long as loona is present!…. At least that’s what you think

— Probably most of your dates will be at home, considering that you have a very large fan base and probably more than one will consider following you both when they see you.

— But don't worry! In case it happens you'll always have your beloved girlfriend to tell them to fuck off 💗.

[2]

Today was another normal, quiet day at least in your home. Loona used to hang out there while you watched a movie or just talked about your stuff so it was kind of a habit for her to stay with you and go back to her room before midnight so that blitzo wouldn't get suspicious.

although you never know if he's looking for her right now….

You had checked your cell phone to show Loona something but…. it was already half past seven?!?

You quickly went to the computer to turn on your stream while Loona looked at you a bit angry

-is it because of one of your goofy streams? Fuck it, you can do it tomorrow…-

she sat on the edge of your bed while you just sighed

-I know, I know… I'll make it quick, ok? You can go to the living room, I'll come with you when I'm done…-

she cursed under her breath while you already turned on stream, appearing in front of the camera while some of your fans were already writing in the chat asking why you started something late.

-Oh, I started late due to some pending, nothing important…-

the nervousness of your tone clearly made some people suspicious, but they decided to ignore it while you tried to ask brief questions and doing anything that didn't take so much time

your goal was to make a stream of only 1 hour… 1 hour and no more, however it seems that your time passed too fast when it was already 9:00 and Loona was getting impatient…

maybe you had already turned off stream and had fallen asleep?

No… she kept listening as you were playing some not-so-interesting game… she hesitated whether to interrupt you or not, but opted to just knock on the door to avoid accidents.

you startled at the intrusion before realizing the time, shit, sure it was Loona. The only good thing is that you would already have an excuse to go

you turned off your camera and went to the door

-Hey… are you coming or will you take longer?” she asked in a slightly sarcastic and annoyed tone, to which you simply stammered, getting a little nervous,

‘ don't worry, just give me 5 minutes’

-I'm getting sick of this… never mind, I'll wait for you-

-Sure, love-

you went back to the stream, announcing that you had to leave early However, a few comments caught your attention.

"LOVE!? AHHHH" “Who was she?” “who could be the unlucky one???

Shit…

You forgot to turn off the microphone…

you turned off the stream quickly heading to the living room, hesitating whether to tell Loona what happened or let her find out on her own

and you were sure she'd kill you both ways

[anonymous-dentist]

i haven’t even able to catch any of roier’s streams from last week, how was pepito acting ooc? the character itself was different? i heard that two different admins are playing it.

Okay, so Pepito's og admin spent a few days not playing Pepito due to I thiiink computer issues? And that's fine, I don't care about that, eggs' admins fill in for each other all the time.

The thing about Pepito, though is that he was lowkey super weird last night? Like, he was depressed, yeah, just like he was on the first day, but the thing about that is that Pepito on the first day more or less cheered right up the second she met Roier for the first time. Before that, he spent over an hour moping around over his parents not being there, but he was just fine when Roier arrived.

Pepito then spent the next few days hanging around Roier and trying to get him to love her, and like? It was almost working! You can see that it was working by watching Roier's stream last night, actually, because he's attached to his Pepito, the one who loves him. He spent the whole night like "Man, Pepito's been possessed. Pepito isn't my Pepito, they're Otipep". Like Pepito legit logged off the night before like "omg I have this chest full of things for my dad!" and then Pepito got online last night and proceeded to be the complete opposite of how he's been basically since day one: moping around, saying that Roier doesn't love him, saying that he's forever alone, and not remotely yes-and-ing anything cc!Roier tried doing.

At one point, qRoier just kinda. Gave up. Because he tried hanging out with Pepito, actually, but Pepito just kept leaving him and telling him to go away, and it got to the point where Pepito legit just wandered off to apparently set up his bed in the middle of spawn. So Roier went down into his basement to build, and he had that big huge speech about how nothing's real and that he knows that Pepito isn't real because his "programming" changed so suddenly and he became someone that isn't Roier's Pepito, and that was a really good improv moment from ccRoier tbh working off of the (probably accidental) lack of communication between Pepito's two admins

It's just kinda weird to see this big of a discrepancy between egg admins regarding egg characterization because you normally can't tell the difference between admins when they're replacing each other, yk? Or, when there is a difference, the cc usually makes some funny little jokes about it that the egg suffers over jokingly. But last night was just. Weird. Because Pepito's admin didn't roll with nearly anything Roier tried throwing at them and it kinda just felt a little awkward considering the character we've been dealing with for the past couple of days.

Idk man, it was just. Weird?