#because someone decided i was the bad guy

[citsune13]

Like, people should do whatever the hell they want forever as long as they're not hurting themselves or others (and I don't mean pain play or bdsm or whatever. Don't twist my words. I'm talking abuse). I just. Don't want to be bombarded with sex related ads everywhere I turn. Or walk around worried for my safety because someone needs sex so goddamn bad. Or hear that ace people just need to find the right person to 'fix' them.

People should be able to do whatever 'weird' sex stuff they want and talk about it. But I should also reserve the right to decide I don't want to see/hear it and be able to go to spaces where it isn't a factor.

Where there aren't 'desperate single ladies in your area!' Where I don't have to wonder if this guy is just being nice to me because he Wants Something. (Because society forbid a man just wants to be friends with a woman) Where people don't assume I'm 'missing out' or 'broken' or 'lonely' or that I need their help to learn the right way to do it and then I'll understand.

Where sex is all well and good and people aren't afraid of it, but it's not the one all encompassing all important thing that everyone should strive for. Where you are whole with or without it. Where relationships and friendships are just as important, with or without it.

i walk a fine line between “i’m asexual and i hate how much the world revolves around sex” and “sex is way too stigmatized and people should be able to be more open about it if they want to”

[endearng]

Brave

Pairing: Spencer Reid x single mom!reader Summary: You're left all alone, but now you can think of some you want to share your solitude — and food — with. WC: 5.9k (I am so sorry) Warnings: brief mentions of Penelope's parents arch, grief and depression. A/N: Hello! I struggled so much trying to find time to finish this one. Let me know what you guys think! Feedbacks are highly appreciated! neighbor!au masterlist | main masterlist

Honestly, hearing your name leaving someone's lip usually made Spencer eager to know what was going on, if it involved you — of course, he knew that you shared it with many people, after all, there are 8 billion people existing at the same time, so he could definitely come up with statistics regarding how many of them shared names with you. Furthermore, he worked with humans, dealing constantly with their data, names included, so yours could definitely be pronounced by someone close to him.

He just didn't expect to hear a chant. Something about you and him sitting in a tree as Penelope approached him in the bullpen kitchenette.

"What was that?" He asked, eyes wide, once he heard Penelope's voice. She snickered.

She repeated the chant.

"Garcia!" His voice came out in a squeak, frantically looking around. "Shut up!" It wasn't in his nature to be so rude, but he was desperate for her to be quiet, especially because someone could hear her.

Emily, apparently coming from thin air, creeped up on them. "Spencer and who?"

"G—ah! Nobody!" He jumped from where he was standing, not expecting someone else to join them anytime soon, almost spilling his coffee.

"I caught our boygenius with a friend." Penelope announced, proud of her discovery.

"What?" Emily asked, shocked.

Once Penelope noticed that she revealed something she certainly should not have and she saw the look on his face, she slapped her hand over her mouth, wide eyes looking at Spencer in an apologizing manner. She was just so excited to finally see Spencer in that scenario that she basically ignored his wishes to keep it — whatever it was — a secret. "Thanks a lot, Garcia," he deadpanned.

"What? What friend?" Emily pressed, a smile on her lips. Not teasing, surprised, perhaps, but she didn't have any traces of mockery in her expression or tone. She looked... proud?

Penelope had started feeling bad for running her mouth too easily, but once she saw Spencer's lips turn upwards in a small grin, she gushed, "Yes!!! I went over to her house to give her daughter's gift, I am her godmother, after all... So I was knocking on her door—”

"More like banging." He interrupted.

"And from my spot, I see our boygenius not so subtly trying to disguise something. Do not look at me like that," she squinted her eyes and pointed her finger at him threateningly when he opened his mouth to speak. "You were stuttering and basically left her all by herself because you got too embarrassed."

"Oh, no, Reid..." Emily couldn't help her remark, pursing her lips.

"What? What did I do?"

Truth was, Spencer was replaying the interaction in his head the entire time after Penelope had left. He had stood there, at the sidewalk, dumbfounded and mortified by her remarks in your presence, not really knowing if he should go back to your apartment. He was definitely enjoying getting to know you, but it just felt wrong to go back and act as if nothing had happened because he had just gotten awfully weird. The man had struggled with himself, his thoughts conflicting between going back to yours or keeping to himself in his apartment. He decided on the latter, not willing to put himself through more embarrassment.

What if you didn't like him like that and you thought he was a creep now? What if you just saw him as a friend?

Worse, as a neighbor?

"You should've stayed. I know you probably got nervous, but what if she got the wrong idea once you dashed out the door when you were seen with her?" Emily inquired, but Penelope, despite not being a profiler, understood right away that she was onto something.

Her eyes glimmered.

Spencer's stomach dropped. "Oh, no..." he whispered softly. "I have to go."

And he basically fled the room.

The women exchanged playful glances.

"I knew it!" Penelope stated. She turned her head in the direction he ran to. "For a profiler, for a genius, he sometimes is so dumb."

"And just like that," Emily snapped her fingers, "IQ of 187 slashed down to 60." she snickered. Reaching for the coffee pot and pouring some of the liquid into her mug, she remarked, "There is definitely something," Emily laughed. "Do you think we should help him?"

"Don't worry," she winked at her friend, "I've got a few ideas."

Later that day, you got a call from Garcia. You were in your car, taking deep breaths and willing yourself not to cry out of frustration. The work shift had finished, officially, nearly an hour ago, but your boss held you back to discuss some projects that you were involved in. You had to call your dad to ask him kindly to pick up your daughter at school — you didn't see it coming, so you called him after about an hour of Olivia waiting by herself at school.

The unexpected meeting made you incredibly late and it turned your mood sour, because you always loved the car rides with Olivia after you picked her up, not to mention that she probably thought you had forgotten about her. Never. You had just started the engine when you heard your phone ring. You put her on speaker as you drove to your parents to pick up your daughter, who was now there. "Hi, Pen!" You greeted.

Despite the disaster, a smile crept up on your face when you remembered the last interaction you had with her. With Spencer…

"Hi, sweetcheeks!" She said back. You could hear the faint sounds of computers and keys being pressed in the background. "How are you?"

"I'm good, I guess. I had a surprise meeting so I couldn't get Olivia," you replied, eyes on the road ahead of you. "How are you, Pen?"

"Oooh, I'm sorry that happened. I know you're probably berating yourself for it, but it's okay, it wasn't your fault." She tried to lighten up.

"Yeah..." You muttered, a certain tightness in your chest you couldn't keep at bay.

"She'll understand. You are doing a fantastic job showing her the real world." Penelope comforted you. You blinked away emotional tears, grateful that the roads were calm and you weren't a reckless driver. You couldn't really speak, so she continued, "Actually, she is the main reason I called you." She revealed, making you chuckle wetly. "I really miss Olivia and I'm truly sorry I missed her birthday. I haven't been the best godmother in the world..."

"Don't worry about it." You dismissed it. "I always tell her you're a tech fairy who does magic with computers to save people. A real life hero," you chuckled. "She understands it." You whispered. Trying to keep that feeling in. Not sure if you were speaking to her or to yourself.

"I know, but, still..." She retorted softly.

Penelope frequently complimented you and Olivia. You tried your best to raise her to be a good, kind and smart person. Unbeknownst to Penelope, her comments made you remind you of right after you were left all alone with your daughter. The tech analyst didn't hear a word from you for days, but once she visited you and saw the place without a single trace of Olivia's dad, she understood it all. You kept silent, still trying to adapt to a world where you were lonely again. Despite the odds and unwillingness to open up to her, you kept talking to your daughter, even if she didn't truly understand it all. From her early years, you made sure to provide her everything she needed to speak like she does now.

Your own personal chatterbox.

A titter broke through you, "I sure hope so." You replied, rubbing your eyes at a red light. "I also hope you know I'm driving and I can't cry right now," you joked.

"Ah, right! Sorry, baby!" She exclaimed clumsily, true Penelope style. "All of this to ask if I can spend some time with her on... on Friday! Yes!" She paused and then continued.

"Friday?" You asked, uncertain. "That's usually when we go out together."

"Yeah, and I'm sorry for taking it away from you, it's just that I..." second pause on her speech, "I wanna make it up for missing her birthday and I seriously hope that creepy guys give me a break so that I can spend some time with our Oli girl." She finished.

Still uncertain and the tiniest bit jealous, you relented. "Okay, Pen. May I ask you where you are taking her?"

"Well... it's a surpr—we are going to an amusement park!" She paused and then squealed and you could hear clapping.

You snickered, joking along, "It's your funeral."

"I'll die a happy woman. That's all, sweetcheeks! Thank you so much! Gotta go. Prrr."

And just like that, she hung up on you. Little did you know, she and Emily Prentiss high-fived and made ridiculous noises to celebrate the execution of their mastermind plan taking shape.

Penelope Garcia, the singular rollercoaster of emotions that you are.

Back in the bullpen, Spencer focused on his reports — not that it was a difficult task, but he felt cornered by Emily's outlook from earlier. Had he done the wrong thing? If he did, could he fix it? He wasn't the most experienced man in the world when it came to dating and women in general. He was on the brink of insanity, nearly going up to Hotch for advice. He ruled out Morgan immediately because he knew he couldn't get tips from someone who would definitely tease him, in a manner that felt lowkey demeaning.

Spencer had a lot of insecurities, and being socially awkward in his mid-twenties was one of them. Next to Morgan, he felt like a fourteen-year-old who didn't even know how to properly say hi to people. He needed some words from someone who understood him.

But who did?

Wrapping up one of his reports, his phone beeped.

Come to my lair. Treats are on the table :)

Penelope

Cautiously approaching the door, like there was a bomb inside, Spencer opened the door to Penelope's office. "Okay, so I know you were upset and maybe you still are a little because I spilled your... um... moment to Emily but I wanted to say sorry and ask you to please not be mad at me. I was just excited for you and I knew Emily would be, too." She blabbered once he closed the door behind him.

His ears turned pink and he tried playing it cool by reaching for one of the cookies that were in a bowl. "It's okay, Garcia. I was upset for a moment, but I know you didn't mean it."

She smiled. "Glad to hear that! Thank you, Reid."

He leaned his body on the desk adjacent to her, crossing his arms over his chest. He cleared his throat. "So, um, how do you know her?"

"We met in college. She had my back when my parents... you know."

A pause. He hated that he, sometimes, lacked the sensitivity to approach people and that, despite being brightly intelligent, often missed possible outcomes for more personal conversations.

"I'm... I'm sorry I asked. I know it can be a delicate topic." He offered her a sympathetic smile, even though he was berating himself on the inside.

"It's okay. Thank you." Garcia smiled. "She always checked on me, made sure I was eating properly, that I wasn't... harming myself... She even went over to my dorm to tidy everything when I was too depressed to get out of bed." She took a deep breath. "I swear, Spencer. She was there. And we had just met." She finished, softly.

If Spencer admired the person you were before, now he was almost tongue tied, not having the wits to come up with a comment of his own. It truly shocked him, because, one: his experience with college kids had been totally different, of course, but two: what kind of person goes out of their way, even when dealing with their personal burdens, to help someone they just met?

Garcia searched his face. A small smile on her lips starkly contrasted with her crestfallen eyes. "Shortly after her graduation, she got married and, later, pregnant with Olivia. I was still around, on and off. I joined the FBI and had less and less time to hang out, but I always had and always will have a soft spot for her. She was there for me."

He couldn't help but want to know more. He knows it should be better to learn about you from you, but, right now, he was handed an opportunity he couldn't deprive himself from grasping, "Wow. That's-That's a lot of history." He said, in a low voice, a little hesitant.

"Yes. And you will know much, much more." Penelope said, confident tone lacing her words.

"Why do I sense you're onto something?" He inquired, brows furrowing with worry.

"Because I am." She winked at him.

Oh, no.

"What?"

"Trust me on this one, loverboy." She snickered.

Penelope Garcia, the mess you'll make.

Friday rolled around with promises of a certain blonde bringing your daughter home by 9p.m. The feeling almost made you feel like a possessive mother who didn't let their kids have boyfriends. Or girlfriends. You were fine with it, by the way. Either. You just weren't currently fine with the idea of spending time away from her.

You reluctantly let Olivia go. Penelope stood behind her in your living room. You were crouching down to your daughter's height.

"Mommy, I'll be back before you know it," she said. Just like you did when she was first getting adapted to going to school. You scrunched your face, feeling like the most loved person in the whole universe.

You were.

"I'll bring you cotton candy." She promised, raising her pinky in front of you. You crossed your own with hers.

"Now you're just bribing me." You leaned in to give her a kiss on the cheek.

"Is it working?" Penelope chirped in, an easy smile on her face.

You giggled, looking up at her for a moment. "Maybe..."

"Mommy loves you, okay?" You said. "I promise I can take you somewhere even cooler than aunt Garcia is taking you," you joked.

"Now you're just being mean," the woman frowned playfully.

"Yeah, mom! Don't be mean."

"I can't believe you're turning my own daughter against me. And she's scolding me. In my own house." You feigned offense. Garcia burst out in laughter with Olivia.

Two kids in your living room.

"Okay, mommy," she said, finally, giving you a kiss on each of your cheeks, just like you did with her. "Bye bye. Say bye bye to Aunt Penelope, too."

"Okay," you agreed. "Bye bye, Aunt Penelope." you teased. Olivia was already walking out, ahead of you two.

"Bye bye, mommy." Penelope joked as you walked her out. Olivia pressed the elevator button as you and Garcia stood in front of your apartment, side by side with you, watching your kid wait for the elevator. Then, she looked you up and down, a knowing look on her face.  "You're totally a hot mommy." She winked.

You didn't have an answer to that, the remark catching you off guard. Instead, you shoved her jokingly.

"Get outta here," you quipped, flustered, watching her as she entered the elevator with Olivia, holding her small hand.

You waved as the elevator doors closed. You sighed when they were out of your eyesight.

Coming back to your place, you looked around in hopes to find something to entertain yourself with. Truth was that without your daughter, you felt a little lost. Sometimes, you'd get lost in your own head, too sick with worry about losing yourself in order to be sufficient for Olivia. The remedy for those thoughts were usually doing something on your own for yourself. Tonight, you decided to cook something.

After a quick trip to the local supermarket and some embarrassment on the self-checkout cashier, you made it back to your home with everything needed to make pasta from scratch. Maybe you got a little excited by literally having your hands dirty and made enough pasta to feed the entire apartment complex. You cut them in different sizes and shapes and cursed your dad for a moment for having taught you your way around food.

Giving it a better thought, seeing your kitchen with pasta hanging to dry everywhere, maybe it was an opportunity. You turned the thought of feeding the families who surrounded you to simply feeding Spencer.

You smiled at yourself, pleased with the idea.

One, two, three eager knocks on Spencer's doors made him interrupt his Doctor Who's weekly (if no bad guys were forcing him to work) marathon. He looked through the peephole and found you, his neighbor, studying his door, probably to avoid looking directly into the hole, like it was an intricate work of art. A smile crept upon his face. He never thought he'd be so happy to be interrupted. Opening the door, he greeted, "Hi!"

A joyful "Hi!" was your answer.

You took a minute to look at him. He looked more relaxed, of course, but you came to the conclusion that he didn't own many casual clothes, because he was dressed in a dark blue Caltech sweatshirt and slacks. Funny matching, but it worked for you. Differently from what you usually saw him dressed in, he didn't appear so tired. He was glowing.

"Um, do you need anything?" He asked politely, scrunching his brows a little bit in concern as your silence became too long.

A sliver of doubt crossed through your features. "I'm not interrupting you, am I?"

"No, not at all." He lied.

He'd take your interruptions at any time.

"Oh, that's great. It's just... I miscalculated the amount of pasta that I was um... making." You struggled to find the words, a little mesmerized by the simple act of looking at him. "Do you want to, um, do you want to have some? With me? I've been told I'm good at cooking." You finally asked, with a little convincing on top.

Not that he needed any. You had him at hi. Spencer felt disarmed.

"Yes. I-I'd love to."

"Great!" You cheered. "Come on. You can help me cut them once they dry a little bit."

He followed you into your apartment. Today, the atmosphere felt a lot different. You had music playing softly and the highlight was in the kitchen, where strings of pasta hanged from basically everywhere. There was still a small piece of dough on the surface of your kitchen counter, which was surrounded by a big, sharp knife, a pasta maker machine and some other kitchen gadgets that, surprisingly, Spencer didn't know the name of.

"Wow. It's really a lot." He thought out loud.

"Yeah," you chuckled. "I usually make small amounts, but there's no problem in freezing them." You said, glancing briefly at your watch.

"Oh, okay." He replied meekly. "I'm not so sure if I can help, though. I'm not very good at cooking."

"No!" You feigned exaggerated surprise.

"Yes," he quipped, furrowing his brows playfully.

"But you have to work for it." You deadpanned, looking him dead in the eye. "I tricked you. I only called you here so you'd help me with it. If you don't, you won't get pasta."

He raised both hands, joining your banter. Easily. Despite, despite, despite. "No problem. I like learning."

You scrunch your face, giving him the most adorable grin. "Okay, doctor. So, this small ball here," you said, pointing at the dough and rolling up your sleeves, "needs to rest for a few minutes. It needs to dry a little bit to make cutting it easier. I'll tell you how to do it once you have an apron on."

"Oh, sorry, I don't have any at home. I don't really cook." He mentioned it again.

"I thought so." You grinned. "But don't worry about it. I have a collection. My dad's a chef and everything he gives me as a casual gift is related to cooking" you chuckled.

Okay, so the miscalculated amount was definitely an excuse to have him with you. His heart felt like giving out at any minute. You wanted him there. It was almost like you had it all planned out, and Spencer watched as you moved around your kitchen so confidently and calmly, very much unlike his mind that was running miles per second. Spencer usually had a hard time calming down, but this, this was something else. He was alone with you and he didn't even know how to say anything. Simultaneously proud and jealous of your easygoing chatter, he decided that it was better to follow your lead and try not to be awkward around you than doing anything else.

Slowly being pulled out of his self-conscious and overall sad thoughts, he busied himself with watching you, instead. He smiled to himself. Again, despite, despite, despite. You grabbed an apron from one of your drawers and Spencer watched you quietly. You moved so effortlessly that he felt inclined to just sit and watch you in your own scene. In that moment, you were not Olivia's mother, not a character from a novel he imagined, not a publisher, not Garcia's friend from college, just a woman doing something she enjoys doing. And he was delighted to be present to see it.

Moving back to where he stood, you stopped in front of him. You held it out in front of you, almost waiting for his permission to get closer. Spencer nodded eagerly and you smiled. You put the apron over his head and he raised his arms, almost automatically, so you could wrap yours around him to tie it in the back, bodies mere inches away from one another. He somehow had the courage to watch your face the entire time, but you bashfully avoided his gaze, choosing to concentrate on the task at hand. Once you finished, you looked up at him, though. To offer him a smile.

But what caught his attention was the fact that he finally knew, now, what the color of your eyes were. They seemed a lot different than when he first saw you. Different shades swirled around your pupils in such harmony that he decided that, from then on, he'd associate these colors with you and with you only. You aimed your gaze at him with something so distinguished he couldn't quite decipher what it was, suddenly and momentarily losing his profiling abilities. Spencer knew immediately that he could never shake that moment from his memory. Then, he also noticed that you had a smudge of flour on your cheek, but he didn't have the heart to tell you to clean it up, too stuck in the warmth of your gaze. He thought of it as a reminder of what you were doing, the moment you were sharing together.

He smiled back at you.

"Okay, I guess that's it, then," you announced, voice barely above a whisper, finally. He felt both relieved and deprived from the sweet torture you put him in. He wanted to be under your spell for longer, but he worried he would be too entranced and make a fool out of himself. "First, I'm gonna divide it in half. Oh, wait. What do you want to eat? I have shrimp, chicken and minced meat. But I can also try to do something vegetarian if you don't eat meat." You blabbered inconsistently, jumping from one topic to another, our eyebrows flying to your forehead in concern for a moment.

"It's okay," he soothed you, "I'll have anything." He added softly.

You happily nodded at him. "Alright. So I'm gonna be a good teacher and tell you to use the machine to open it first, but a cook must be skilled enough to know how to open and cut pasta without one of these gems," you said.

He grinned. Cooking classes were not in his weekend bingo, but here he was. Not wishing for anything else. "I'm glad you're walking me through it." He said. "I can hardly boil an egg."

"What? I couldn't tell." You said, faking earnestness, while opening a piece of dough with a roller. You had your eyes on it, rolling the dough on the counter to make sure you'd open it completely. He was mesmerized by your focused expression. Looking at your skilled hands. Watching.

"Really?" He asked, lighting up.

"Yeah, I could. Sorry." You said, snickering, folding the dough on itself to start cutting it. The result was thicker strings of pasta, like fettuccine. "You look like the kind of guy who only eats outside."

"I am." He confided, trying to mimic your previous actions. "Maybe you're the profiler."

"Nah, just a real observant neighbor." He laughed. "Hey, you're doing alright." You told him once you saw what he was doing. Your stare was on his hands. Oh. His deft hands, albeit not accustomed to the task, worked dexterously, flexing the veins on his forearm. You shook your head lightly as an attempt to get rid of the thoughts, glad he wasn't paying attention to you.

Being with you, he realized, was easy. He condemned himself for overthinking the advice Penelope had given him earlier about asking you out today, because she planned on taking Olivia out. He had decided not to under the excuse that a case might pop at any second, but the truth was he was too afraid to be rejected. 

"Okay, so you can open the dough, Doctor. Good job!" You teased as you watched him use the machine instead of the rolling pin like you did.

"I'm decent at it, yeah," he quipped.

Spencer Reid being able to take and to crack jokes about himself. He decided then that he liked jokes, he liked your banter, but because you weren't mean to him.

Something in him finally started to heal.

"Alright." You placed yourself beside him. He gulped at the closeness. "See how I'm doing with my hands." Was it appropriate to answer that he hadn't looked away not even for a second? "You wanna fold it over and over. Careful not to stick it, though, so be gentle. You can use a little flour to help you. Wanna give it a try?"

He only nodded and you helped him fold it. He wasn't as skillful as you were — hell, your movements seemed rehearsed from how much ease you had at doing them. He was a little slower, but he moved in an effective way. "Careful not to cut yourself, Spencer." You whispered to him, to which he hummed weakly.

"Is there a right way to hold the knife?" He asked, turning his head to look at you.

Your reply was to touch his right hand, the one holding the knife, and closed his fingers around its base. Grabbing his left hand, you curled his fingers on top of the dough, and, slowly, pushed the knife down to cut it. "See?" You pulled the cut dough, revealing a string.

He wondered hastily if he could have some more time with your hands on top of his. Your delicate hands, even dirty, beat every single texture he had felt on top of his. Spencer couldn't answer anything. "Okay! Now we can set them to dry."

"Where?" He asked, robotically. You grinned.

"We gotta find somewhere." You chuckled. "By the way, it's best if we keep them away from the others." You advised.

"Why is that?" He inquired, intrigued look on his face.

"I, um, made some with eggs, you know, the traditional one." You bit your lip. "I also made a recipe with no eggs in case you had any restrictions."

Usually, he'd be speechless, not used to being treated like this. Not being one people usually thought of so intentionally, so dearly, so full of carefully. He noticed, though, that as he spent time with you in your kitchen, every one of your actions peeled away some of his issues. Then, "Oh, wow." He said, a hint of a cocky expression dancing around his features. If you kept that attitude, he might even become greedy. He remembered about your so-called miscalculation for the second time.

You finished up the meal in an instant, too fast for Spencer's liking. He was observant, of course, and you made sure to tell him about what you were doing and why you were doing every step of the way, like he was a child acquiring language. He was a grown man learning how to be around you, studying your every movement and engraving it to his memory, trying harder than he ever did when learning English (or other languages). Those came to him naturally. You, on the other hand, were full of patterns he didn't quite know yet — not that he wasn't dying to.

"Okay. We're done." You said, softly, plating the meal on two white plates. "Do you want to sit with me on the balcony?"

"Yes."

"Be there in a second. Make yourself at home."

His face lit up. Joy and embarrassment fighting to control him.

As he left with the plates in hand, which was a little funny to you, you cleaned up the mess in the kitchen as much as you could. You glanced at Spencer, meticulously placing the plates on the table to help you out. You couldn't control the sigh that made its way out of you, out of the very depths of your being.

Sitting down with him after you both ate to your heart's content, he complimented you. "It's not very often that I get to eat this well." He chuckled. "And you're a good chef. You make things efficiently and neatly." He said, looking at you. You looked straight ahead, longingly, into the city.

You shrunk your shoulders, a little embarrassed. Was he flirting? His words were completely different from what you used to consider flirting. Too analytical, too technical. "Thanks!" You exclaimed, albeit meekly.

Silence.

Spencer was rummaging through his big brain for something to say. You were, sort of, deflating from basically carrying the interaction all night long. Letting too many thoughts consume you all at once. "I'm not really an interesting person, so I'm not sure what I should say," he chuckled, a little disappointed by having your attention somewhere else.

Your heart probably doubled in size.

You crossed your legs on the chair. "I think you are an interesting person," you said softly, looking at him. "And I think there's no shame in being silent. It's nice. I know you like it."

His heart was making somersaults in his chest.

"Yeah..." he chuckled. “But I’d like to talk to you.”

"Try me! Penny said you can do magic, good ice-breaker. It's so nice, but so baffling!" You gushed. "I can't even do the classic trick, that one that you're supposed to be pretending to pull your thumb off. Olivia says I'm not convincing enough." You laughed, shooking your head and squinting at him. "Can you believe that?"

"She's a very bright kid." He said, amused. "It must be hard tricking her."

"Yeah, it is."

"Where is she, by the way?"

"Penelope asked to take her out. Pasta time was supposed to be time spent with her. But I guess you're a good substitute."

Again, Penelope was onto something. That was when he knew for sure that his theory from earlier was correct.

"Can I tell you something?" He decided to be honest, instead.

"Is everything alright?" You ask, searching his face for something that told you if there was something wrong.

"Yes! Yes! Everything's fine." He blurted. "It's just that, earlier, Penelope was, ahem, encouraging me to ask you out on a... date. I kept thinking about it and maybe I actually overthinked everything and ended up making excuses not to ask you out.”

You were taken aback by his words. You blinked once, not expecting his words, those words, and failing at trying to slow the racing of your heart and at stopping the smile creeping up on your face. “It's… it's no problem. Don't worry.”

Spencer couldn't help but glance over, listening attentively to your reply. Your words struck a softer tone, a side of you that was filled with warmth and genuine affection — he was estranged to it, not being used to being so understood. It caught him off guard. He watched from his seat, his heart still aching from feeling scared, but filled with a new emotion he couldn't quite pinpoint yet. “Would you, um, would you say yes?”

“To what?” You faked coyness, but you knew he could see right through you. You weren’t a good actress.

He smirked, encouraged by your playful mannerisms. “If I asked you on a date.”

“Well, yes.”

Oh, so it was bravery. He felt it completely, now.

A deep breath from his end. “Would you like to go out with me?”

“There's nothing I would want more.” You replied, tone full of mischief, but your eyes held all the truth he needed to confirm that he was actually going to spend time with you in a more… romantic, perhaps private setting. “Does that count as a yes?”

Spencer was hyper-aware of himself and his reality. Therefore, used to his own little life and the trauma and suffering that came with it, he had grown accustomed to the thought that romance was far out of his reach—  stories only told by books and didn’t, couldn’t exist in real life, in his life; writers were just too idealistic. Thus, being used to those thoughts, but secretly refusing to take them as the sole truth of his life, romance came to him in the shape of silly scenarios to help him fall asleep. Now, he was suddenly changing his mind, relieved to see that it could be real.

He was immensely glad for your bravery. He wanted some of it. Needed, even.

“It's the prettiest yes someone has ever said to me.”

“Glad to hear that, Spencer.”

“I just feel a little embarrassed by not having the courage to ask you earlier.”

“It’s okay,” you assured him, again, with an adoring look in your eyes, gazing at him, “we can share courage when things get too much.”

“Hey!” Olivia greeted once Spencer opened his door after her persistent, but gentle knocking. He looked around, but you were nowhere to be found. He crouched down to her height. “Here’s a sticker. Mommy said you were very brave last night.” She placed the adhesive on his vest, a star shaped sticker. “Here’s other sticker. Mommy also said you were helpful.” She said, adorning his vest once again.

Oh, my God, he thought, even her daughter knows.

He chuckled, not having it in himself to let the opportunity to joke go. “Oh, so we get rewards for good behavior?”

Olivia nodded. “Yes, we do. When I get five, mommy gets me something I want. Usually cookies.” She replied, sounding satisfied with herself.

“Thank you, Olivia. I'm gonna make sure to keep them so I'll know when it's time to ask for my gift.” He said, ruffling her hair playfully.

At the conference room, Aaron Hotchner couldn't help but frown at the sight of the extra accessories on one of his agents’ vest, almost interrupting his briefing in order to address the topic to quench his curiosity. “Reid, why do you have star stickers on?”

He shrugged, failing at disguising his happiness, the corners of his lips curving up. “These were a gift.”

He was brave.

[fuck-customers]

It’s so satisfying for bad management to get their shit wrecked. I speak a particular foreign language and was hired by a major bank to work in compliance specifically for this language. I started as a contractor and was promised full time. One senior manager (Jerkface) decided I was too expensive and refused to approve my conversion. He is a tool and an asshole and people won’t support our business because of his antics. He does not have someone lined up to cover my language when I leave this week. He’s notorious for telling people under him to “figure it out.”

I sent his direct manager an email detailing my concerns. 3 1/2 weeks later (last week) she (Boss Lady) finally meets with me and discovers I am the only thing preventing a major gap in coverage because I’m the only person who speaks that language. 2 hours later I get an email from Jerkface asking if I want to extend my contract. I politely responded that I already have a full time job lined up, and I would only stay if they offered me a full time job in return. It’s been radio silence from him since then.

But my department head (Nice Guy) told me today that he got pulled into weekend meetings where Jerkface is getting reamed by Boss Lady for blowing smoke up her ass and not having this handled months ago like Nice Guy has been pushing him to do. Boss Lady is furious I wasn’t converted for coverage. They might be able to scrape together an offer for me, but I’m not sure I’ll take it.

Not my problem now. He’ll figure it out.

Posted by admin Rodney

[hetrosjistin]

I've been mulling over something actionable about this because I am -really- worried that folks on this site, famous for it's lack of reading comprehension, will take what I'm saying as a #NotAllMen statement, which is not my intention here.

This is what I came up with:

I think something I want to add here is that this doesn't mean not talking about how women have to act as if any given random strange man is a threat. That's not the same thing as hating on men for being men.

It's important that young men, boys understand that bad actors among men in general. and especially the systemic expectations of toxic masculinity in particular, force women to take actions to protect themselves. It's important they understand that such actions are not directly aimed at them. It's important that they know this so that they can understand how the patriarchy does harm to THEM TOO in this manner, by preventing and harming their ability to form healthy relationships with the opposite gender. And important because in learning about these things they can TAKE conscious actions to change their behavior (example: I'm a short guy, and I got into the habit of finding ways to increase my height when arguing with some one, get them to sit down while I stood, sit on the table while they sit on a chair, etc, to loom at them both to make them take me even a little more seriously in my own head, and let's be honest, as a machismo intimidation tactic. When I finally realized how toxic that was, how it was percieved as taking a stance of physical threat against women, and how I did not WANT to do that, I worked on changing my behavior. When I'm in a argument I -try- to force myself to sit down and put myself in as non threatening a stance as possible)

But that's not the same as misandry. It's not born from the same place as someone saying 'all heterosexual sex is rape' or 'god damn I hate men' and similar things.

I hope I'm coming across as coherent here x-x

Because one of the reblogs of OPs post that I saw said something like 'it's inevitable, he WILL become a rape apologist and agent of the patriarchy, there's nothing you can do!' and that's just.

What's even the fucking point?

Why even do ANYTHING if this is an inevitability?

Why are we even FIGHTING for feminism in this case? Because obviously if you believe that then you believe everything we do is fruitless and pointless, men are biologically and socially determined to become rapists.

It is the most cynical and fucked up thing imaginable. It's every bit as fucked up as the idea that women are naturally determined to be best suited to be barefoot, pregnant, and in the kitchen. It means the struggle we are all engaged in for equality and liberation is pointless.

And I refuse to believe that.

I know I have fucked up shit about myself from the patriarchy. But I have to believe that I can deprogram that and change myself over time as it is revealed to me by introspection and other's actions and words to me.

We can't act like this shit is deterministic because that tears out he very heart of our cause: That we CHOOSE to be who we are, that our chromosomes decide nothing except the shape we are born into, not how we act or the way we treat one another.

And so, we must make the DIALOGUE be about people's ACTIONS and NOT the things they cannot change about themselves.

Y'all have got to stop virulently hating men. Like, I'm sorry, I fucking hate the patriarchy too, but the patriarchy isn't just men and saying it is just exculpates complicit women. I am the mother of a young boy, and I look at this precious, empathetic 8 year old boy I'm raising and I don't know where online is safe for him. Places like this will say he's evil just for his gender, and other places will say "we'll be your friend if you hate with us," and still others will radicalize him in other ways. Where is he supposed to go? Why are we saying the radicalization is the fault of the kids just trying to find a place to hang?

Like this is seriously getting urgent. You have got to fucking stop conflating the patriarchy and men. 53% percent of white women voted for Trump. Men aren't the problem. White supremacy and Christian patriarchal structures are two examples of patriarchy-reinforcing structures that aren't solely couched in maleness. Men aren't the problem, and pretending they are drives more men into more welcoming extremist spaces and also ignores all the parts of this that are forwarded by people who aren't men.

What I see happening all over is scared, depressed, lonely people looking for someone they're allowed to hate automatically, unquestioningly - someone they're allowed to place all the blame on. Fascism says people of color, non-Christian people, queer people, etc., are the ones they're allowed to hate.

And way too many of yall answer that no, it's leftist to hate men instead. You are doing *the exact same thing they are.*

Fucking knock it off.

The answer is we're not supposed to hate anyone automatically based on their immutable personal characteristics. Hate the specific people who've hurt you. Hate the self-reinforcing systems that let them get away with hurting you. Hate the strangers who prop up those systems. Hate the fascists. Hell knows I hate Donald Trump, but it's not because he's a man, it's because he's a piece of shit.

Hate the pieces of shit, not the gender.

But don't hate men just because they're men. That's unhelpful, stupid, insane, and entirely counterproductive. Fucking. Stop.

[tswwwit]

I was very amused by a specific joke in Cipher's Personal Portable Portal when I wrote it, so I decided to write Bill's POV of that part of the fic!

Here's a short thing:

Despite the annoyance, the interloping, and a pair of completely ruined shoes -

Holy crap, it must be Bill's lucky day!

Bill chuckles, taking this human's face in both hands as he watches him struggle. Kid's putting up one heck of a fight, considering the position he's in.

And man, is it adorable!

Here Bill was, thinking it'd be a full week or worse until he finally managed to drag his fun-times partner into an actual date. Dipper's been a real stubborn goody-two-shoes cookie, with more brains than common sense. Convincing him of anything is almost impossible, even when it's a great idea.

Bill had resigned himself for a bit of a wait. Who knew how long it'd be until that stubborn little jerk finally gave in to some good ol' fashioned hedonism, and took a break? Or maybe he'd catch that 'criminal', finally, and they could get back to the fun stuff.

Turns out, he didn't need to! No scheduling was even involved, because his date took the opportunity to show up all on his own!

Though for a minute, Bill thought he was the other guy.

Not that getting attention from his other suitor was bad, at the outset Having a guy chase after you that hard? Keeping up with every scheme and tracking all your plots? Putting on a full blown pursuit, just for you, heedless of any other major threats? It's almost enough to make a guy blush!

All that faded to the background with his awful friggin' timing.

This asshole only caught up to him, meeting him for real - AFTER Bill already found a cutie to basically go steady with! Now THAT was real rich of him. Months of pursuit - flattering, hilarious chases, some truly annoying thwarts - and for what? Stubborn jackass human couldn't the decency to do this before the position was filled? Seriously? It's like he was designed to be the most irritating human being in the universe.

Too bad for his prospective suitor, though. Too little, too late shoulda been his motto, because Bill had a new squeeze, and a sharp and sassy one at that! Someone much more fun, equally clever, and adorably feisty. He really had a mouth on him, in more ways than one, a combo impossible to resist.

And this loser showed up at the exact right time to throw wrenches into their first friggin' date.

Jealous stalkers apparently get the best luck in the universe, when it comes to ruining a good thing. Soap operas have less dramatic timing than this asshole did!

If he knew how he'd kept Bill up the last week, pacing and wondering how to best slam the door in his face without sending the wrong signals - or worse, having to alert his soon-to-be date that some other guy was after Bill's ass -

And he had the absolute temerity to be incredibly physically cute, while he was at it. That crap really rankled.

But that's all in the past. For once, Bill can let bygones be bygones.

Because surprise, surprise! Turns out the hot nerd and the annoying stalker... are the same guy! No need to choose when the whole package is right here!

Man, what a fluke. Bill could date around for a million years and never manage this much luck again.

From the ground, Dipper makes clinking sounds as he pulls against the chains. There's banked fury in his expression, eyes narrowing in Bill's direction like he wants to spit.

Bill beams back down at him. He pinches the cheek again, and grins wider at the sight.

And there's the second-best part - his cutie-pie is a cutie-pie! The lack of visual through the portal had him totally missing out.

Look at that face! The shape of his jaw, the big brown eyes, the look of true irritation - the way he snaps at Bill's fingers like he wants to bite them off -

Great sight, ten outta ten! Bill could stare at it for a thousand years, unblinking, and never get bored.

He also can't stop touching it.

The very first squeeze confirmed what he already knew - yep, this is the guy he'd been fooling around with for a while, the shape of him memorized after the first check out. Now he traces over his human's cheeks, and along his jaw, just for the feel of it.

Every inch of his human is made clearer now that Bill can see as well as touch. The twin senses are fantastic together, peanut butter and chocolate and anchovies, a delicious combination. Trailing down over his neck, and around the back of his ear. His skin is smooth and soft, sending little tingles of his magic tingling under Bill's touch.

Overall, this human's super great for petting! Soft brown hair runs through Bill's fingers, damp from rain. It's delightfully messy and made more so by Bill's intervention.

A particularly enthusiastic stroke slides it away from the mortal's forehead - and Bill raises an eyebrow.

Aha! So there's where the name comes from!

Figures, really. That kinda appellation doesn't come from nowhere. A cute little birthmark cherry on top of this delectable human sundae.

The motion really seems to bug the guy, too! A bonus, in Bill's eye.

Dipper strains against his chains, hissing through his teeth. Arms struggle in their confines, neck twisting to bare an arc of pale skin. Muscles shift under the thin material of his t-shirt. The damp, rain-soaked fabric clings to his chest, leaving basically nothing to the imagination.

Bill grins wider. Hell, he nearly whistles.

Very, very nice! That lean body of his has seen its share of fights, alright. Mostly running by the look of it, but it's done him a bunch of favors!

Mind you, the mind was plenty on its own. Total smokeshow of a neural network, feisty and quick on the draw. Now Bill can toss in the stubborn, defiant bits from the stalker as well! And Knowing the way he fights. Irritating and clever in equal parts, while being totally willing to pull some downright dirty tricks? Bill nearly wants to give him a round of applause.

Now take all that - plus all this?

Today really went from the most miserable bullshit slog to totally great!

And there might be more, if he plays his cards right.

Bill hums in thought, idly petting his squirmy little human as he makes cute little annoyed grunts.

Now. How to introduce himself?

Obviously the kid's unaware of who he's dealing with. Which has so much potential for fun - but should he make the guy wait, or go right for it?

Both options are tempting, with his human completely at his mercy. Wriggling around in an eye-catching way, equal parts fury and exasperation. Dipper's expecting torture, probably! Or, pow, getting one right in the kisser.

Ha! He might just get one, too - but not in the way he expects! That'd be delightfully ironic! Tilt his head up, wait for his mouth to be less bitey, then Bill can make his move. It'll totally shock him into silence! Maybe even make his mouth drop open a bit, enough to find out if he tastes as good as he-

Then his human twists away, head jerking out of his grip.

"You lay another finger on me," Dipper glares daggers at him, tense and furious. Leaning away as far as he can get, which isn't much! "And my boyfriend will kick your ass."

"Boyfriend," Bill repeats.

Wait a sec, Pine Tree here said he was single! No dalliances or affairs, AND that he was bad at sharing.

Was that wrong? Is he that good a liar? It'd be a credit to him if it wasn't such a kick in the pants.

What the hell, Bill didn't detect THIS one coming. Guess the date couldn't go off completely without a hitch, adding the first unpleasant surprise to the mix.

Who's his human gotten close to? Another human? It's gotta be, there's no other demons sniffing around - and there's no way he's totally lacking in attention, with those looks.

Of course someone else would be after Bill's hard-won prize. Friggin' competition. Now Bill has to find this loser and make sure there's only one in the running.

And another thing - that's a stupid threat. This guy knows he's facing off against a full-fledged demon, here. The kid's not delusional, and they just fought. He knows how hard it'd be to take Bill down. Whose dick is he sucking that's smart enough, and powerful enough, to kick THAT much -

Bill blinks twice.

Then he grins.

"Aha!" He exclaims, clapping his hands together and rubbing them. "Boyfriend, you say!"

Of course. Of course!

Obviously it's Bill, who else could it be?

Takes a demon to threaten a demon after all, and the kid's too sharp to pull anything else. Dipper here HAS been sucking some real incredible dick from a very intelligent and handsome being!

Pulling on that relationship makes for a way better threat. A little presumptuous to toss Bill's name around like that, but eh, he gets a pass. As far as he knows it's a life-or-death deal going on right now. Plus, the assumption's not even wrong! Bill would obliterate any loser who touched a hair on his head, since they're -

'Boyfriend', huh. Whoo, THAT'S not a phrase that comes outta nowhere.

This guy's brain's been lingering on the word, hasn't it. Practically marinating in the concept of Bill Cipher and 'boyfriend', together in the same mental picture!

Hell, Bill would bet good money that this cutie's been obsessed! He totally thinks Bill's so cool, and smart, and powerful, that he dreams of being Bill's boyfriend, wanting to tie him down along with tying him up. Imagining dates with the impossibly amazing demon he's been chatting with. Sighing with longing as he awaits their first kiss. His whole mind flooded with thoughts of them together, kicking his legs and fluttering his long eyelashes with gooey feelings in his squishy mortal heart. Bill bets if he dug through that crummy notebook he saw earlier, he'd read 'Dipper Cipher' scribbled all over it with kiss marks on the pages.

And hey, if his mortal wants to make things 'official', then there's Bill's in! No scheming needed! The prize has been handed to him on a silver platter, just the way he likes it.

Everything's falling into place, like a perfectly toppled building.

This human's a rare one, that's for sure. Practically unique! Too cute, too fun. Too annoying and smart. Bill really landed one hell of a looker with the brains to boot, and in a way better than he'd hoped!

So yeah, he can be generous, and grant his human's wish. They've practically been going steady already!

And he's gonna get a smooch when he makes it solid between 'em, for sure. Ten smooches, even! With tongue! It'll be great.

What a day this has been.

Annoying stubborn interloper, amusing banter, then a fantastic fight with multiple surprises, each one more entertaining than the last. A total whirlwhind of fun and romance - AND they both get what they want in the end!

Which officially makes this the best first date ever.

[fairy-writes]

SIREN SONG

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Kaiju No. 8

Pairing(s): Hoshina Soshiro x Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Female!Reader, Siren!Reader, Kind of a Pirate AU? I reference the Trojan War if that helps define this

Notes: EPIC: THE MUSICAL HAS ME BY THE THROAT THAT’S ALL I’M SAYING

(Also, this is based on the Greek mythological sirens, not mermaids)

I decided to cut this off where I did and hope to do a part two in the future. Lmk if you guys want to see a second part!

JUST IN TIME FOR HOSHINA’S B-DAY, LET’S GOOOO

__________________________________________________________________________

He found you in the water. 

At first, Soshiro thought you were a clump of seaweed. But then he noticed that it was a person floating in the water, not plants. And that there were feathers sprouting from your back before realizing just what was going on. 

You were a siren. 

So he did the only logical thing in his mind. 

And brought you aboard. 

It took three days for you to wake up. 

You were kept down in the brig behind iron bars. Your hands were bound with cast iron shackles, though Soshiro had a sneaking suspicion that you were too weak to do anything. He could see your ribs through the baggy and loose dress you wore about your person. Your hands, though scaly and bird-like, were thin and bony. 

Captain Ashiro stationed Soshiro to watch you, seeing as he found you in the first place and brought you aboard without consulting her. But Soshiro didn’t mind. It just gave him a chance to catch up on reading. 

At least… Until you opened your eyes. 

Soshiro is roused from his reading stupor by an ungodly screech and clang. He jolts, looking up from his book to see you clinging to the bars, your pretty face twisted in a surprisingly ugly snarl. Your scaly hands tug ferociously at the hardened iron, your chains rattling against the bars. 

He just smiles, 

“So you’re awake then? That’s good. How are you feeling?” He says conversationally, and your snarl twists. You open your mouth and let out a screech that rattled his eardrums and made him flinch involuntarily. 

Damn, you had some pipes. 

But that doesn’t deter him from attempting to talk to you again. 

“Can you understand me? Do you speak our language?” That just earned him another screech. In fact, any attempt at speaking to you had you caterwauling in such a way he was sure those on deck could hear him. 

It was then that Captain Ashiro came downstairs, hands over her ears.

“What is that infernal—Oh…” She trailed off when she spotted you, and you let out another godforsaken wail. Your clawed hands rattle the bars of your cage, but it does little good. You haven’t eaten in three days, had no water in just as long, and were weak to begin with. 

Soshiro didn’t get to give you more than a once-over, but he knew that you were injured. Burns disintegrated the feathers along your back. You had deep gouges that were half-healed and sick with infection. Scars crisscrossed your throat. 

Almost as if someone had tried to rip it out.

 It took an additional three days before things changed. 

In that time, Soshiro spent most of it down in the brig, talking to you. You still wouldn’t let him touch you without restraints, so he enlisted two crew members, Hibino Kafka, and Kaguragi Aoi, to help hold you in place. 

Because he very well couldn’t help you by himself with you trying to bite his fingers off. 

It took some convincing to get Kafka and Aoi to step inside the brig to help you. But it helped that Captain Ashiro was just as interested in you as he was. So an order it became, and they nervously stepped behind the iron bars. Soshiro almost felt bad to see you crouched in the corner, teeth bared, and wings spread as far as the injuries would let them. 

However, it was almost stupidly easy to get ahold of you. You couldn’t fly—there wasn’t enough room, and there were also your injuries to account for—and you couldn’t muscle your way past the two biggest members of the crew. So you were quickly detained, and he set to work attempting to help you. 

Keyword being attempted. 

Because you kept snapping at anyone who came close. And while you didn’t have a beak like a bird, you did have wickedly sharp teeth that would likely cause all sorts of infections if they broke the skin. 

Eventually, after about an hour of trying to get close, he thought of something. 

“Captain? Could you do me a favor and retrieve some food from the cook?” He asked as he crouched before you. The two men holding your taloned hands and pinned your wings shifted uncomfortably. “Uhh… Quartermaster Hoshina? Why are we feeding the… siren?” Hibino Kafka asked, clearly unsure about this plan. He whispered the last word, “siren,” as if he wasn’t sure he was even allowed to speak the word aloud. 

Soshiro shrugged, 

“We don’t want a dead siren on the boat. It’s best to keep her alive until we find out what to do with her.” He said. Aoi didn’t say anything, but Soshiro could tell he was uncomfortable. Kafka swallowed hard as he looked back to where you were snarling up at him from your place, pinned on the floor. 

For someone so large, he sure was a scaredy cat. 

It was then that Captain Ashiro returned with a bowl of what looked like porridge. Were they really that low on food? Well… They had just spent the last ten years fighting in the Trojan War… It made sense that they were at least a little low on food. 

“The cook wasn’t able to make much. But I hope this will work.” Captain Ashiro said, and Soshiro just hummed as he took the bowl and entered the prison cell. 

“Let her up. Just don’t let her do anything.” He ordered, and the two men holding your arms did so slowly. They kept your arms twisted behind you, your wings pinned to your back with their free hands. 

You thrashed and flailed as best you could, snapping at anything that came close with those wickedly sharp teeth of yours. But Soshiro could see you panting and heaving, and your skin had a sickly sweat on it. An idiot could tell you weren’t feeling too hot. 

So, Soshiro crouched down to your eye level and held out the spoon with a heaping spoonful of the porridge. He could see the wheels turning in your head. 

Should you take the food? 

Should you try and attack?

He could hear your stomach rumbling and offered a friendly smile. 

“It’s all yours.” He says, and you freeze, which doesn’t go unnoticed. 

So you could understand him. 

However, he didn’t make a big deal of it and instead hovered the spoon closer to your mouth. He could practically see you salivating and pushed the spoon until it was almost touching your lips. 

That was the final straw, and you opened your mouth, not even blowing on the food before devouring the spoonful. You must’ve been starving. Soshiro quickly offered another spoonful, and it was the same as before. You all but inhaled the food, and before he knew it, the bowl was empty. 

You sighed almost dreamily at what must’ve been a full belly and sagged forward against Kafka and Aoi’s grip. Captain Ashiro handed Soshiro a waterskin, and he poured some—not too much, though—into your waiting mouth. You swallowed the water greedily and gasped for air as soon as the waterskin was empty. 

“I brought some herbs to treat her wounds.” Captain Ashiro said, and immediately, you stiffened. 

Why? 

Soshiro took the herbs and poultices from his captain and scooted closer. 

“I’m going to clean your injuries. Is that okay?” He asked, and it was just like before. You opened your maw and let out an ear-splitting screech. Spittle splattered his face, but he wasn’t phased. It wasn’t like you could do anything. 

Instead, he sighed and stood up. 

“Let’s deal with her wounds later. We don’t want to stress her out too much.” He said brightly, and Kafka and Aoi were more than happy to let you go and scramble from the cell. Soshiro couldn’t get closer after that. So, he left you alone. 

The clang of the cell door was deafening. 

The next day, Soshiro went down to the cell and found you collapsed on the floor, still as a corpse. He wasn’t even sure if you were breathing. 

Were you dead?

Soshiro couldn’t get the cell door open fast enough, key fumbling in his hand as he tried to fit it into the damn lock. 

Only to realize that was his mistake. 

The second the cell door was open, you were on him, snarling and snapping as you tried to claw his eyes out. His hands were on your forearms, leaning his head to the side to avoid your snapping jaws. 

The two of you wrestled—you were surprisingly strong for being starving—and thrashed and fought until he managed to come out on top. Your wings were bunched awkwardly beneath you, your face twisted in anger and pain and agony as he heard the delicate bones in your wings crunch and break. 

That caused him to get off, albeit a bit slowly. Shallow scratches littered his arms, but he was much more concerned about the state of your wings. 

“Now, now,” He soothed, holding his hands up, but you were all but gone by then. Scrambling up the stairs and onto the ship’s deck. Crew members scattered and shrieked as you stretched your broken wings and lashed out with your splintered taloned fingers. 

“Don’t hurt her!” Soshiro bellowed as he reached the top of the stairs, taking in your appearance. The scabs of your infected burns and gashes had cracked along your back. Blood and pus oozed down your back and sides, soaking your linen dress. 

Crew members had drawn their swords and surrounded you. Captain Ashiro cried out for them to drop their weapons, and slowly, hesitantly, they did so. You were trying in vain to fly away, but your wings could no longer carry your weight. 

He had hurt you. Possibly permanently. 

Would you ever fly again?

And that thought that he had maimed such a beautiful creature cracked his chest wide open, baring his heart for the world to see. 

You were eventually wrestled back into the brig in the belly of the ship. The ship’s doctor had managed to splint your wings and clean your wounds while Kafka and Aoi held you down again. 

All the while, Soshiro stayed in his quarters, pacing back and forth, feeling annoyed with himself. He should’ve known your wings would break so easily! He should’ve known that you would try and escape. Anyone with a brain would’ve tried to escape that awful prison cell. 

A rap on his door roused him from his trance, and he paused in his pacing. 

“Come in.” He called, and Captain Ashiro entered the room. She looked exhausted. 

“She’s asleep right now. The medic gave her a dose of sleeping herbs to help her rest. He isn’t sure she’ll ever fly again, though.” She said solemnly, and he pinched the bridge of his nose but didn’t say anything. 

Captain Ashiro sighed, 

“Why did you bring her aboard?” She eventually asked, exasperated. Soshiro shrugged, 

“We are set to sail through the land of sirens. I thought she could be used to barter safe passage.” He said quietly, and Captain Ashiro’s eyebrows shot up. 

“That’s… Actually, a good idea.” She said though wariness colored her voice. Soshiro shrugged,

“I have good ideas sometimes. However, it’ll involve gaining the siren’s trust.” He said, and she deflated before an idea struck her. 

“I’ll let that job fall to you.” She said, and he opened his mouth to protest before she held up a hand, “You brought her aboard. She’s your problem now.” She said before leaving before he could say anything else. 

Soshiro went down to the brig where you were kept. 

You watched him with untrusting eyes, and he sat across from your cell. 

Gaining your trust…

How hard could it be?

[catghoul31]

I Just Wanted To Feed Some Ducks, For Christ's Sake

Wade was just having a @poolverine-week Day 4: First Date with Logan, when out of nowhere, a close-minded jerkwad of a dad decides to harass them! He deals with it in typical Deadpool fashion, but accidentally reveals something about himself along the way. Will Logan still love him? Or will he hate him forever and ever and never, ever talk to him again??

(...Spoiler alert: everything was fine. Psh, I wasn't even worried!! Why'd you think I'd ever be worried...?)

Content Warnings: Homophobia and Transphobia (directed at logan and wade)

Read it under the cut, or on ao3!

This was probably the happiest Deadpool had been in about a decade… and all he was doing was throwing corn and peas at ducks at the park!! Oh, but his Logan was there, and today, that made all the difference. 

A couple days ago, they’d exchanged their first “I love you”s, kissed each other until their lips got sore, and signed marriage documents. That third one would’ve only been true if he’d taken Vanessa’s advice at face value, sure- but it was official now!! Deadpool and Wolverine were an item. No queerbaiting, no sending one partner to superhell, and not an ounce of homophobia to be found! This story would be really short, because it was honestly just an excuse for Wade to tell all you guys that he was feeding ducks with Wolvie right now. Wasn’t that an adorable thought in these trying times? He sure was glad no one was gonna ruin it, and he could just lean against him and kiss him on the cheek all cutely-

“Hey, what the hell-? You can’t be doing that around my kids!!”

FUCK.

Okay, Wade, calm down. Maybe there’s some other weirdo who decided to waltz over here naked or something, and that’s who he’s talking to? 

No- no, this guy was walking over to them- and there goes that cute little smile on Logan’s face. Why does this author keep making us deal with shit like this…? I just wanted to feed some ducks, for Christ’s sake!

“I don’t remember asking you, dickhead,” Logan grumbled lowly, and Wade would recognize that tone anywhere… That was only ever how he spoke if he was seconds away from introducing the claws to someone’s face!! He needed to humble this Karen-in-training now, before his peanut gave that guy a real reason to get them kicked out!!

The rando who thought he was the king of this public park scoffed at the show of aggression, crossing his arms. “No, listen to me!! I don’t care if you two want to be freaks in private, but I won’t have my children seeing this nonsense-“

“Nonsense?? We’re just feeding some ducks, lady!!” Wade interjected, stepping in between both the fuming, borderline rabid monster man and Logan. “I know that sounds concerning, but that bucket’s full of mixed vegetables! No white bread here, we know that’s bad for them, so I promise your kids won’t pick up any bad habits-“

“God, shut up!! You know exactly what I’m talking about- this gay shit… ” he hissed, as if ‘gay’ was a four-letter word or something, while gesturing at them as though they were some spectacle. He really could’ve picked… any of their other adventures, if spectacle was what he wanted. He was clearly new here, since Deadpool knew he’d gotten a lot fruitier than this!! But whatever- so much for no homophobia, right?

“Oh, come on!! ” Wade said, in the middle of a few barks of laughter. “ That’s the problem you have with us?? In the year of our lord 2024… I mean, I’m a fucking merc, and you’ll probably find out what’s going on with my super-friend here if you keep bugging us,” he quipped, smirking at how fucking pissed Logan looked. He’d have no problem calming him down later, if you know what I mean… ;) But he was honestly curious- what lore was behind the stick up this man’s ass?

“Please, though, tell me how me giving this little guy a little kissy-kissy affects your children, who are currently throwing handfuls of dirt at each other 200 feet away from us where they can’t possibly see us,” Wade snarked, scratching Logan’s head as said little guy continued growling threateningly at the man. “Easy now, tiger…” he soothed, to absolutely no avail.

The loving, accepting individual in front of them cringed at the exchange before them, nearly looking ready to spit on Wade. Hey, he’d gladly open his mouth for him!! “You don’t see a single problem with this?? Ignoring how fucked up whatever that guy’s doing to me is-“

“I’ll show you fucked up, you sad, bigoted waste of-“

“Hey, hey!! We’re having a civil conversation here, Logan- I am so sorry. He’s not used to new faces, but I’ve been working on socializing him-“ Wade joked again, shutting up as soon as he felt the pricks of his claws brush his hand. They had to keep it cool, blood-free and stuff, because they had to think of the kids, right??

“-I don’t want my, or any other kid, going around thinking it’s okay for two men to be treating each other like women! God, you two are sick…”

Immediately, a lightbulb went off in Wade’s head. Without thinking, he said exactly what was on his mind, because oh my god it sounded so fucking funny to him- 

“Well… how do you know I’m not a woman?”

Dead silence followed his statement. Logan wasn’t even snarling at the dude anymore, and the dude himself was looking at him like Tails did in that one MS Paint comic panel that made him crack up every time he saw it. Fucking brilliant.

“…Because you have a penis?? What kind of question is that, you freak?!” he yelled, and Wade felt Logan tense up in defense once again.

“Woah, woah- and how do you know that?? Get your mind out of my pants- and maybe yourself away from this lake, if you want to keep your… everything intact,” he said, tightening the arm he had around his honey badger as he glared daggers into this dickwad. Truthfully, he was this close to just letting him go- it’d be so funny!! Except his kids were supposedly here, so…

“Ohh my fucking-“ The male Karen- Kyle?- whoever he was- his brain was officially broken. Wade loved to see it!! “Just- get out!! Degenerates like you shouldn’t be allowed anywh- HOLY SHIT!!”

Snikt!! Oh, that was one of Wade’s Top 3 Favorite Sounds Of All Time for sure… and the full flash of claws from Logan finally had this dude running away with his nonexistent tail between his legs. “Awh, good boy!!” Wade praised, patting his back affectionately. “You showed him, didn’t you-?”

“Just… just shut up,” Logan said, though there wasn’t any anger in his voice anymore. Just exhaustion- and confusion? Oh… oh no… “Let’s just go home, okay, bub?”

Wade furrowed his brows- if they left now, it meant that guy won, didn’t it? But then he realized, once again- that “joke” about him possibly being a woman? Not nearly as much of a joke, as it turned out!! Did… Did Logan even know about stuff like this? Shit, he might’ve said too much in the heat of the moment… This could be bad.

“Yeah… yeah, peanut. Let’s go…”

—

An awkward silence settled over them both as they walked home. Quite unusual, since usually Wade was yapping about anything and everything whenever they’d go anywhere, even before this little date of theirs!! But he wasn’t in the mood for that- he didn’t even reach for his hand, when he’d been holding it the entire time while they were walking here. He was too anxious over what Logan must think of him now… or maybe he was worried over nothing, and Logan did really just take it as a joke? Wade really hoped that was the case…

Logan abruptly stopped in his tracks, right before they got to their apartment complex, and turned to face Wade. “Wanna tell me what that was about, bub?” he rasped, his tone just accusatory enough to have his blood pressure spiking.

“That Karen??” Wade said, hoping beyond hope that that’s what he meant. “Oh, just a dipshit in public, and you didn’t actually hurt him, so we’re probably fine-“

“No, Wade. What you said. About…” Logan shook his head, tilting his head at Wade with his brow furrowed in confusion… and concern? “…I’m sorry, I just gotta know if you… meant that. If you’d rather I call you… are- are you trans or something??”

…Okay, that was close , and technically correct- but no, Wade wasn’t a woman. Not entirely, anyways... Logan didn’t seem disgusted by the idea, so that part of Wade’s worries was able to shut up!! But… god, this was gonna get even more confusing. “I… well…” Wade paused for a second, trying to figure out how to put this.

“Not judging you here, bub. Just… trying to make sure, so I didn’t accidentally-“

“No- no!! I’m not- well… okay, you’re gonna have to stay with me here, peanut. Alright?” Wade asked, his gaze flitting away from Logan and suddenly finding the cracks in the sidewalk very, very interesting. The gruff man slowly nodded, looking at him patiently.

“I’m not… not a man. But I’m also… not not a woman, either? I might also be some secret third thing, don’t worry about it- just, I don’t really even care that much!! Trust me!! It’s just…” Wade nervously chuckled- it seemed so simple in his mind, but Logan had to be so confused right now, right? “…You don’t gotta change anything with my name or nothing, it’s just- a long while back, I kinda figured out that… my gender, it’s… more complex than just a man?? If that makes any sense…?”

Logan was looking at Wade, trying to decipher his words. As soon as Wade saw that face, his heart dropped- he knew that would all be too much too soon… Maybe he should just pretend he was joking after all? It’d be much easier that way-

“…Okay? I can’t say I’ve heard of that before, but… Wade. You know I don’t give a fuck, right?” For a moment, Wade glanced up at Logan, really hoping he wasn’t calling him ridiculous or anything. It was always hard to explain this to people, which is why he usually just… didn’t! But Logan wouldn’t have let him lie about it… he never let him lie about anything anymore!! Something about being able to “smell when he’s lying” or some shit?

“That- no, that sounded bad, what I’m trying to say is…” Logan reached forward to grab his hand again, and Wade felt his heart calm down and fill itself with butterflies at the same damn time. “If… if that’s what you are, I don’t mind. Whatever it is- you know what, just throw the Wikipedia page at me if it has a name, okay?”

Genderfluid. Wade had figured that out with Vanessa long ago, and learning what that meant, why he felt like he fit in with both men and women- but also neither category truly felt like… him? Her? Them, even-? was a massive breath of fresh air at the time. And… Logan was willing to learn. All for him…? Oh, he knew he’d picked right!! Thank God he hadn’t picked the vaguely problematic Logan from the early comic days on accident or something…

“You… you mean it, Logan? I didn’t just blow your mind in a bad way…?” Wade huffed uncomfortably, still not quite believing what he’d just said.

“Ah,” Logan waved off his concerns, stepping closer to give him a hug. Oh, he could cry- Logan hugs were the best… “You’re still Wade, aren’t ya? We’re mutants- people like him hate us for a lot of reasons. Just because I don’t understand something… doesn’t mean it’s any of my business. And- bub…” He stepped back a bit, giving Wade that soft, caring look that always melted his heart. “I’ll try my best to understand. For your sake, alright? I love you…”

Wade genuinely smiled, for the first time since that shitbag ruined their nice day out. “I love you too, peanut. Thanks… really. This means a lot…” he muttered, squeezing him tight before he pulled away.

In return, Logan gave Wade’s hand a tight squeeze. God- always had to try and break his fingers, huh? “No problem, bub…” He muttered something under his breath, making Wade’s heart skip a beat since it sounded suspiciously like, “You mean a lot, so…”

With that heartwarming coming-out story out of the way, they walked back to their apartment as though nothing had happened… and in a way, it really hadn’t!

Because they had each other, didn’t they? And no one's stupid opinion of them would get in the way of their love, no matter how loud and annoying they were about it…

[er-osion]

Cruel Summer

pairing: Kaz Brekker x gn!Reader

summary: A fic based on the song Cruel Summer by Taylor Swift. Reader is a Crow and has unfortunately fallen for their boss in the summer heat spell.

word count: 2.2k

warnings: none, fluff

you can see the full taylor swift song-fic masterlist here

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You always seem to forget how unbearably hot Ketterdam can get in the summer, especially during a heat wave. Your skin is sweltering and sticking uncomfortably to your clothes. The summer sun is bright and accosting, hanging high above your head in the clear blue sky. You greatly missed the typical overcast weather and fog. The Crow Club was just a few blocks away, all you had to do was hold on until you got there, and then you could collapse at the bar and scarf down an icy drink. The mere idea of a cool beverage put a weary smile on your face and added a pep to your step.

The Club was rather full for a weekday afternoon. However, it made sense that people would be wanting to beat the heat here. Entertainment, food, drinks, and a relatively cool space, you didn’t blame the ‘pigeons’ one bit. Even though you knew he hated the heat, Kaz was always happy to see the boom in business during heat waves like this. You shook your head defiantly. This has been happening lately. Kaz, your boss, had been popping up in your head as of late, and at the most unnecessary times. Suddenly you’d become concerned with his likes, dislikes, moods, health, and so on and it was bugging you as all get-out.

It’s not that you didn’t like Kaz, quite the opposite, you liked and respected him a lot. He is, dare you say, a friend. But you didn’t think about your other friends as often as you did your cane-wielding boss, and that is the issue. You know he’s not a good guy. Though, how could anyone be a good person in this city? He’s bad. He’s honestly nearly a bad friend too. But this knowledge of the obvious has done nothing to discourage your traitorous brain from drawing up images of the man at times when you should certainly be focused on something else.

You arrived at the Club and saw Jesper sitting at the bar clearly waiting for a drink from the bartender. A half smile crept onto your face and you snuck up behind him.

“Hey, Jes.” You said calmly from your sudden place right beside him.

Jesper jumped, “Holy shit, you have got to stop doing that.” Your gunslinging best friend put his hand over his heart, taking deep breaths dramatically as he settled back into his seat.

“No idea what you’re talking about,” You shrugged, feigning innocence. “How’s it going today?”

“I think I might just melt.”

“You wouldn’t be the first.” You nodded your head in solemn agreement and ordered a drink. You took a moment to look around the club. You were searching for someone in particular but decided to pretend you were just surveying the floor. “Have you seen Brekker at all?” You questioned without even thinking and as the words left your mouth you wanted to smack yourself.

Jesper’s lips slipped into a teasing smirk as he lay his head in his hands. “I saw him earlier. He was watching the club for a bit and then went up to his office. Why? Is there some job you need to discuss with him? Or are you just looking for some unpleasant company?” Jesper’s tone was goading as he watched your face closely for a reaction.

Your brows furrowed in annoyance and you rolled your eyes. “I was only wondering because I’m not used to not hearing his nags. Usually he’d have griped about something one of us did or didn’t do right and I’m just now realizing how strange it is to not have heard that already.”

Jesper hummed, and you couldn’t tell if he was convinced or not. “Well if you’re looking to sour your already lovely mood, I’m sure you can find him in his office.”

You scoffed and motioned to the bartender for another drink, but not for you this time. “I think I’ve had my fill of Jesper Fahey for the day. I’ll go make sure the boss man hasn’t melted into a puddle with his layered wardrobe.” You got up from your stool and elected to ignore the teasing comment the gunslinger threw your way as you shuffled through the crowd and toward Kaz’s office.

You knocked on the wooden door and waited a few seconds before cracking the door slowly and entering. You were going to say something as you entered the room but the words died on your tongue when you caught sight of your boss.

Kaz was sitting at his large desk, a gift you and the other Crows had all pitched in to get him two years prior. His eyes were focused intently on the stack of papers in front of him, and you noticed how his styled hair threatened to fall apart and into his face. His jacket was hanging on the back of his leather chair. The top buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned and the sleeves of the black shirt had been rolled up past his forearms. The sunlight was streaming in through the two windows in the room, illuminating all the dust floaties that typically annoy you but at the moment seemed magical. All in all, your brain short circuited.

You stood there for several seconds, unmoving, simply staring watching Kaz in all his glory.

“Did you need something?” Kaz’s gruff voice broke you out of your stupor.

“Just came to give you this, really.” You explained carefully, walking toward him slowly and setting his drink down on the edge of the wooden desk. Kaz eyed the drink suspiciously with a raised eyebrow. “It wouldn’t exactly be good for my paycheck if you died of heat stroke.” You supplemented.

“How heroic of you.” Kaz scoffed, unimpressed and put his attention back on the papers in front of him. You rolled your eyes and looked around the room.

You grabbed one of the chairs in front of your boss’s desk and dragged it quietly to the window. He hadn’t told you to get lost, and for some reason, there wasn’t anywhere you’d rather be than Kaz’s stuffy office, right now. You sat down and pulled a book from your bag. You took one last cautious glance at Brekker before settling down into your chair and picking up your book from where you’d left off.

You spent the next several hours like this. You wouldn’t have even noticed any time had passed were it not for the movement of your light source –the sun. Somehow, this moment felt so clandestine. There was something so unnervingly domestic in the hours you’d just spent together. So unnerving that it felt as if the whole thing was some deep secret the two of you must take to your graves in order to keep your peace. You gently closed your book, as it had become a strain on your eyes to read in the dim lighting. You looked up at Kaz and saw he was getting out of his chair. Brekker unrolled his sleeves and you found yourself missing the delicious sight of his veiny forearms. Control yourself, you begged internally. Kaz slid on his jacket and purposefully put all his papers away. Then he turned to you and gave you an expectant look that had your heart hammering in your chest.

“Time to go, then?” You asked rhetorically, getting up as well and re-shouldering your bag.

In truth, Kaz had originally planned on working in his office at the club for a few more hours. In fact, he had also been planning on doing another round of surveying the floor a couple of hours ago, but had not done so. At the time, he didn’t want to leave your company and now, didn’t want you hurting your eyes trying to keep him company. Kaz picked up the empty glass on his desk to drop off at the bar on your way out. It had been his favorite summer drink. When did you figure that out? Did you even know? Either way, Dirtyhands had enjoyed the beverage far more than he should have.

You and Kaz walked together down the cobblestone road from the Club to the Slat. A comfortable silence hung between the two of you. Night had fallen so the street lights provided the only cheap illumination of the uneven pathway ahead. The temperature was still hotter than you’d ever prefer, but there was a constant cool breeze that kept you from staggering under the hot heavy air. Kaz’s cane clicked rhythmically against the ground as the two of you meandered toward the Slat.

You risked a glance at the boy beside you and felt your breath catch. It wasn’t fair. How could someone look so pretty just existing? Everyone would surely laugh you out of Kerch if they heard you thought the infamous Dirtyhands was pretty. But it’s true, in the weirdest of ways, Kaz Brekker is very pretty.

“Is there something on my face?” Kaz probed suddenly.

“Huh?” You blinked in surprise at the unanticipated interruption of the fragile silence.

“I said; Is there something on my face? You’re staring.”

You felt your face heat up in embarrassment at getting caught ogling. “Yes, I was trying to figure out what it was. It’s right here.” You lied with confidence, pointing to a random spot along your chin to show where you’d found the invisible spot on his face.

Kaz’s eyebrows pulled together in confusion and offense, but brushed his chin anyway.

“There you go.” You reassured him with a lilt.

“That book you were reading earlier…” Kaz paused, for the first time in a long time seemingly unsure about his next words, “is it good?” His voice grew quieter at the end and your lips pulled into an excited grin.

You instantly began an enthusiastic ramble about your latest book. Describing in detail the plot and your favorite and least favorite characters with rapid hand motions. Kaz originally only watched you through short glances, but quickly he took to rapt attention. You had enthralled him. The Bastard of the Barrel gazed with uncharacteristic interest as you went off about the book, mentally taking notes about all the things you spoke about with increased passion. He decided right then and there that his first errand tomorrow would be to the bookstore. He was overcome with the unusual desire to engage you in an equally eager discussion about this book he’d previously never heard of.

Kaz drank in your form and felt his heart thundering in his chest. He was growing warmer, and he subconsciously knew the weather was not to blame. Against the dark backdrop of the night and draped in the honey-color lamp light Kaz Brekker was sure you were an angel. Rolling your eyes at the stupid decisions a character you were describing had made, Kaz felt his heart roll with you.

Kaz kept you engaged by asking further questions about the book, specific enough to tell you he’d been listening attentively. Your heart soared at this demonstration and your grin widened impossibly. Words could not describe the joy this boy was giving you in this moment.

And all of the sudden, like a rock slide, your minds hit both of you with possibly the scariest and worst realization.

I love you.

The words were heavy on your tongues, too heavy to convey. Those three life changing words were not uttered, but the mutual realization was rocking. And as if your minds were truly connected, the both of you immediately blamed the dreaded summer for this unexpected awareness of your own feelings. It was this cruel summer to blame, obviously. The characteristic heat and the light of summer that was so unusual for Ketterdam that it made it easier to romanticize things. It tricked you. Lightening the quintessential gloomy mood of the Barrel and erupting feelings not fit for the reality of this city.

But at the same time, maybe it wasn’t so bad. You were putting the pieces together and finally understood the real reason behind your recently pleasant mood. Falling in love with Kaz Brekker, the Bastard of the Barrel, may not be the smartest decision, but it was a decision that evoked the most wonderful feelings. Your skin was itching and butterflies danced in your stomach but you had no desire to get rid of them. You embraced them, because they were proof of your love for the young man beside you.

Kaz now understood why so many great novels were centered around love. Dirtyhands was slowly coming to the conclusion that his recent special interest in you was not without reason. And yes, it was terrifying. Yes, it was perturbing. But if this feeling is love –and he was unfortunately sure that’s what this is– then he can’t imagine trying to get rid of it. Kaz Brekker can no longer picture a life where he does not love you, and this picture is becoming less and less frightening by the minute.

You’re washed with elation when you notice the barest ghost of a smile gracing Kaz’s carved features. How can a man not be happy in your presence?

Summer can be awful. It can be uncomfortable. It can be agonizing. But it can also be a gift. Or rather, in the Barrel, it can come bearing gifts. Like the gift of loving someone who’s been by your side for many summers prior, and hopefully will be for many summers more.

[stephstars08]

History

Titans!Jason Todd x Vigilante!Reader

Warnings: Adult Language, LONG INTRO, Angst, Fluff, Weapons, Injuries, Trauma, Heartbreak, Death Mentioned, Dark Themes Mentioned, Violence, Anxiety, Jealousy, Loneliness, and Possible Grammar Errors. (Sorry If I Forgot Any!)

Summary: Y/N is the daughter of Black Canary and Green Arrow. That’s how her and Jason met. They met through their parents. The two have so much history between them that is full of ups and downs.

Word Count: 2,212

Author’s Note: I’ve basically had this in my drafts unfinished all year till I finally just decided to finish it since the idea isn’t all that bad. If it’s a little confusing I apologize and the intro is basically a summary of how the reader and Jason became so close. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy it!

Y/N and Jason share a lot of history with one another. Y/N is the only daughter of Dinah Lance and and Olivier Queen who are Black Canary and Green Arrow. Y/N has the same powers her mother has which is a scream that sounds like a canary crying. However, Y/N’s scream is different. Her’s sounds more like a siren than a canary cry. That’s why when she goes out on patrol she goes by the name Siren.

Y/N is also a good and strong combat fighter. Both of her parents are good fighters but have different fight styles, so Y/N knows how to fight using both of her parents' fighting styles. And of course, she also knows how to use a bow and arrow as well.

Y/N and Jason met when her mom was helping Bruce who is Batman on a case that involved someone her mom had dealt with before and ever since that mission Y/N and Jason have grown a bond and have worked together on multiple occasions.

They joined the Titans together. Jason was excited but Y/N felt the opposite. Y/N felt like she did not fit in with a team even though everyone loved her. Jason and Dick helped her a lot with that feeling and made her feel like she belonged on the team.

Everything was going fine till Dick brought in this girl named Rose who just happened to be the daughter of Slade Wilson who is no other than the deadliest assassin, Deathstroke. When Dick let Rose stay in the tower, she butted heads with everyone especially Y/N. It was mostly because of who her father is. Deathstroke has a long history with Y/N’s parents. She knows all of the horrible things he has done.

It only got worse when Jason didn’t listen to Dick and got captured by Deathstroke. He tormented Jason. When Dick and Kory went to get him back Jason almost fell to his death till someone who looked just like Superman came to the rescue and caught him. When Jason returned to the tower Y/N knew something had changed inside of him. All he did was stay in his room which really concerned her. She would tell everyone that something was wrong, but everyone was dealing with their own shit and seemed not to care. They would just tell her he’s just still recovering from what Deathstroke put him through.

One night Y/N finally decided to take matters into her own hands and go talk to Jason. She felt like she was the only one that gave a fuck about Jason. She went to his room and went to knock on the door, but music was playing pretty loud so she just decided to just walk into the room which she immediately regretted it. She walked in to see Jason and Rose kissing. When Jason noticed her, he immediately broke the kiss. Before anyone could say anything Y/N just walked back out. After that happened Y/N couldn’t help but feel angry. She also felt jealousy boiling inside her too which did scare her. Jason is her friend, and she feels jealous about him kissing another girl. Why was she feeling jealous?

More chaos ensured after Dick confessed that he murdered Deathstroke’s son. The old Titans were the most upset. Everyone left the tower except Dick, Gar, and the guy who saved Jason were the only ones that were left. Y/N left with Donna and Rachel while Jason left with Rose which did hurt Y/N. She felt like he rather be with Rose than with her. Things didn’t end well between Rose and Jason. Turns out she was just using the team because her father wanted her to help him destroy the team. Y/N didn’t hear about the breakup till Rose reunited with the team to take down her father.

Y/N didn’t see Jason till Donna’s funeral. Donna had gotten electrocuted saving Dawn. They just shared a look and that was it. After Donna’s funeral Y/N went on her own.

She went back to Star City and started to fight crime on her own. She didn’t hear from any of the Titans till Jason became Red Hood after coming back from the dead. Dick brought Y/N back to help Jason come back to the good side which worked. After they finished Crane off and sent him back to Archam, Jason confessed his feelings for Y/N which she returned them. When she was out on her own that’s when she realized her feelings for Jason. When Jason was going through all that darkness Y/N was the one that helped him get through it and that’s when he realized he has feelings for her.

They started dating each other but sadly the relationship didn’t last very long.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Jason was at the Gotham City Police Department with Barbara in her office. He’s helping Barbara solve a case that needed help from a vigilante more than a detective. There is a villain named Cupid who has showed up in Gotham. She’s been leaving dead men in alleyways. There have already been two victims. One man was found with an arrow through his chest and the other man was found with an arrow going through his head.

Barbara asked Jason if he’s ever dealt with Cupid which he said no. “Okay then I know someone who does know Cupid.” Barbara said which made Jason let out a sigh since he knew who Barbara was talking about. “Y/N.” Jason said putting his hands into the pockets of his zipped-up jacket.

“Yes, can you go to her and ask her for some help defeating Cupid, she’s done it before.” Barbara said to him. “I don’t know about that, Babs.” Jason said with nervousness in his voice. “Jason, I get it. You two had a shitty breakup but we really need her help with this case.” Barbara told him. Jason let out another sigh because he knew Barbara was right. Plus, he would’ve crossed paths with Y/N sometime. “Okay, I’ll go stop by her apartment.” Jason told her and walked out of the office.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Jason drove his motorcycle to the apartment building he use to share with Y/N. When he walked inside the building he could feel his heart rate speed up. He felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest. He stood in front of the door that read 3C in gold. He took a deep breath to calm his pacing nerves down.

He knocked on the door and waited. A couple minutes passed and there was no answer. Jason knocked on the door again and still no answer. Jason figured Y/N wasn’t home so he turned to walk away but before he could reach the steps the door opened to reveal Y/N. When he looked at her, he saw the broken look she had in her eyes. Those were the same broken eyes he saw the night he walked out on her.

“What the fuck do you want?” Y/N hissed obviously not happy to see him outside her door. “Y/N, I’m not here to fight.” Jason told her in a stern tone. “You have no business being here, so I don’t give a fuck why you are here.” Y/N told him in a snappy tone. She went to close the door, but Jason stopped it from closing with one of his feet.

“Y/N, please. It’s important.” Jason told her. Y/N noticed the serious look in his eyes, so she knew he was telling the truth. “Fine.” Y/N said with a heavy sigh and walked away. Jason walked into the apartment and closed the door. He followed Y/N into the living room. She sat down on the chair while he sat down onto the couch.

“What’s going on?” Y/N asked him. “Barbara sent me here because we are dealing with a girl named Cupid. She’s already left two men dead in alleyways with an arrow in them.” Jason explained to her. “All I’m going to tell you is that she’s a skilled archer just like my dad.” Y/N told him and stood up.

She went to walk into the kitchen, but Jason quickly stood up and grabbed one of her arms. “That’s it?” Jason asked her. “You’re not going to help me take her down.” Jason added which made Y/N let out a heavy sigh. She pulled her arm out of his grip. “No, because that’s not who I am anymore.” Y/N told him which took him by surprise.

“You’re not Siren anymore?” Jason asked with a surprised look on his face. “Why?” He asked her. “Going out there as Siren just reminds me too much of what happened between us.” Y/N told him looking away from his gaze.

“Listen, I didn’t mean to hurt you.” Jason told her with sincere in his voice. “If that was fucking true you wouldn’t have said what you said.” Y/N told him in a snappy tone. “I didn’t fucking know saving your boyfriend from a bullet was such a wrong thing. I didn’t know saving your boyfriend would make him lash out at you and just fucking leave you all by yourself!” Y/N told him looking back at him with a glare in her eyes.

Jason heard the pain in her voice. He regrets everything he said to her that night. Everyday he wishes he could go back in time and take back every word he said to her that night.

“I-” Jason started to say but she immediately cut him off. “You need to leave, now.” Y/N told him in a stern tone. Jason knew not to argue with her, so he walked out of the apartment. At least he gave her something.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The past couple of days Jason and Barbara had been tracking Cupid. Tonight was finally the night Jason was going to attack. They thought tonight was the perfect night, but it wasn’t going as Jason planned.

Jason was in his Red Hood gear getting his ass kicked by Cupid. When Y/N said Cupid is a skilled archer she forgot to mention that Cupid was also a skilled martial arts fighter. He got thrown into one of the concrete walls. He was too worn out to get back up.

“Now.” Cupid said as she walked up to him. She had her bow in one hand and an arrow in the other. “It’s time to put you out of your fucking misery.” Cupid said aiming her arrow at Jason’s chest. Before she could shoot the arrow a siren like scream knocked Cupid down making her drop her arrow and bow. When the screaming stopped Jason looked over to see Y/N standing there in her Siren suit.

“Long time no see, Cupid.” Y/N said walking towards her. Y/N picked up Cupid’s bow. “Did you miss me?” Y/N asked with a taunting smirk. Cupid let out a growl as she got back up onto her feet. Before she could charge at Y/N, she used the bow to hit Cupid across the head. Cupid fell down onto the hard ground unconscious. “Crazy bitch.” Y/N hissed throwing the bow down onto the ground.

Y/N walked over to Jason. “Are you okay?” Y/N asked helping him up. “Nothing, but some cuts.” Jason told her.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

After the cops picked Cupid up Y/N took Jason back to her apartment to help address his cuts. She had him sitting on the couch. He had two deep cuts on his shoulder that she had to stitch up. Jason was sitting on the couch with just his pants on while Y/N sat next to him stitching up the cuts. There was a comfortable silence between the two.

“All done.” Y/N said after wrapping up his arm, so the stitches stay safe and in place. “Thanks.” Jason told her. Y/N just gave him a nod as she put all of the supplies back into the first aid kit.

“I thought you weren’t Siren anymore?” Jason asked her. Y/N let out a sigh as she closed the first aid kit that was sitting on the table. “Y/N.” Jason said in a soft voice. “I was scared that you would’ve been Cupid’s next victim.” Y/N told him without looking at him.

Jason took one of her hands into his’s which made her look at him. “Everything I said to you that night wasn’t directed at you, but it was directed at me.” Jason told her. “What?” Y/N asked in a confused tone. “When you took that bullet for me, I thought I was going to lose you.” Jason confessed as his eyes started to fill with tears. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.” Jason cried which made Y/N’s heart ache for him.

“Jason.” Y/N said putting her free hand onto one of his cheeks. She wiped away some of his tears with her thumb. She had tears streaming down her face, too. “Please take me back. I love you so much.” Jason said looking into her eyes. Y/N gave him a nod. “I love you, too.” Y/N told him.

“Want to start over?” Jason asked her. “Yes.” Y/N said with a nod. Jason leaned in and connected his lips with hers. Y/N returned the kiss. It felt so right for them to be back together, again.

[rafaslittleboy]

older & wiser

big brother! sonny carisi x reader

summary: sonny overhears a private conversation between yourself and your older cousin mia about lack of self pleasuring tools and decides to take it upon himself to help you (ft. a dick mould that he got for his first year of college as a joke… but it comes in handy).

warnings: brother-sibling incest, use of small vibrator, clit play, reader isn’t gendered but has clit & vagina, kissing, fingering, sonny uses a very special dildo on you 😉

special thanks to the love of my literal life @noellawrites for editing this majorly for me. love you forever ❤️

Sonny nursed half of a beer can as he listened to his sisters talk, zoning in and out of their conversations. Baby talk, gossip about co-workers, talking about the ‘bad’ stuff their husbands have done (lack of washing dishes, not doing laundry—stuff the husbands should have been doing). Uninteresting conversations, to say the least. Nothing he could relate to.

His own relationship with Amanda had been… not the best. She was a piece of work and treated him like crap most days. Sonny thought being with her could settle some of his own internal thoughts, help him move on from someone that he really shouldn’t be falling for.

“Sonny, be an angel and go n’ tell ‘em both that dinner’s almost finished, you know how those two can be,” his mom told him as she pulled out a casserole from the oven, steam wafting in her face.

Sonny let out a strangled grunt as he sat up and placed his open can on the coffee table. He was getting old and any sudden movement strained his muscles—all those years running around as a detective really caught up to him now that his job is to sit down at a desk all day.

It had been a while since the whole family had come together. So many scheduling conflicts and Sonny’s hectic schedule always changing at the last minute; you never got to see your brother. Still living at home, you never got to see any of your siblings because they were far older than you—your oldest sister was in her fifties, while you were in your early twenties.

“--oh god, Mia,” your voice was heard through the cracked door, and he frowned at first but stayed behind the door to listen in. “That’s so embarrassing!”

“Oh my god,” she gasped, “is this what you use?” and a giggle followed afterwards. “It’s so small!”

Your face burned with embarrassment, “can we put it back now?” and you reached out to grab the tiny matte black vibrator but she held it back just enough that you couldn’t grab it from her hand.

“This is like… travel sized, I bring something like this with me on road trips.”

You groaned again, “please just give it back, it’s making me feel weird seeing it in the light.”

Mia finally gave in and tossed it back to you, “you should get a real one, something that can actually get you off. Like a boyfriend, to begin with,”

“Mom doesn’t want me to date yet,” Sonny hears a drawer open and close, “she says that ‘I’m her last baby and she wants me to do things right because everyone else didn’t’.”

“Like fuck?” Mia said, and he heard you groan. “Come on, it’s your life. She can’t tell you what to do.”

“I know, I know. I just… don’t want to go against her wishes.”

“You know, you could do other things with guys. When I started college, me and this guy jerked each other off—technically, that wasn’t having sex.”

Sonny frowned, he didn’t really exactly want to know about Mia’s sexual escapades and he should have really just told you both that dinner was ready–but something was stopping him. The buried, perverted part of him wanted to hear; but only for what you had to say.

Sonny knew it was weird, having these taboo feelings towards you. He tried to ignore the fact that he had watched you grow up and was still attracted to you. But with you in your twenties and single, he truthfully believed no one was good for you other than himself. That he was your soulmate.

That’s why he kept it all dead and buried. Secretly, behind all of his ADA work and previous detective work, he went against all of his own morals to harbor feelings towards his baby sibling. He was a pervert and he knew it.

“... Maybe,” you exhaled, “I just—the guy I want has a girlfriend, or is about to, anyway. I don’t just want to do something with just anyone. I want him.” Your voice trailed off into something Sonny identified as sadness.

Your reply had Sonny frowning again in thought. Who were you talking about? From the information from his sisters and mother about you, you weren’t seeing or talking to anyone. If you were to tell any of your sisters anything about your personal–personal life, you would always tell Bella. And unfortunately for you, if Sonny wanted to get any information from his little sister, she was the weakest link and would tell him with little pressure.

Who exactly were you referring to? The perverted side of him hoped it was him you liked.

After a while, Sonny decided he had been lingering long enough and was getting hungry. He stood straight and cleared his throat, opening your door.

“What’re you two doin’ up here?” as if he didn’t just listen to your whole conversation.

“Nothing,” Mia said with a stifled smile, “just… small talk,” and then she laughed and you pushed her shoulder in an attempt to get her to shut up. Your face went a few shades darker with embarrassment and you couldn’t make eye contact with him.

“Anyway, mom said dinner’s ready.” Sonny said, “‘ya better get down there before it’s all gone, ‘ya know how our sisters are.”

Mia got up first and her wide smile didn’t falter as she left, ducking under Sonny’s extended arm.

“You comin’?”

“Yeah,” you forced a smile, and half of it was genuine. You got up off your bed and followed down the stairs behind your big brother.

—

For the next few days, Sonny couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. He saw you reaching for salad dressing and thought about you using that tiny vibrator to desperately get yourself off. You needed a real cock, someone who really knew how to pleasure you. And he knew it had to be him, your own big brother, as he jerked himself off in his childhood bedroom right next to yours in the middle of the night.

–

“Sonny, hey,” you said softly as you sat up, closing the lid of your laptop and pushing it off to the side.

It was late at night, nearing midnight and you were working on an essay for school before you put it off for too long and had to write the whole paper in one night before it was due.

“Jus’ wanted to check in on you,” he said, and he walked forward and sat down on the edge of your bed. “You uh… you doin’ okay?”

“Yeah, sure, I’m okay.” you reply, “are you okay?”

“Yeah, kiddo. I, uh, I got a gift for ‘ya,” he says, giving you a little half-smile.

From behind his back, Sonny pulls out a wrapped gift, slightly smaller than a shoe box.

“Wh-what—?”

“Jus’ open it, baby,” he urges, placing it in your hands. You follow his lead, pulling the ribbon off and unwrapping the box. You look up at him briefly before opening the lid. What you see inside almost makes your heart stop.

“Dude—“ your eyes widened at the object in the box. a dildo, a really real dildo, staring back at you. it was a deep peach color that faded to a red at the tip.

“Why?”

“…Mia might’ve said somethin’ to me,” he fabricated, it was the only excuse he had, really. And it wasn’t as if you were going to go and ask her, either. “About your… uh… lack of experience.”

“Oh, god,” you put your head in your hands to avoid looking at him. “She shouldn’t have told you anything, I shouldn’t have even told her about it.”

“Gotta tell ya, I’m a little upset.” Sonny placed the toy back inside the padded box and placed it away from you both. You peeked over your fingertips to look at him. “Would’a thought you would’ve come to me ‘bout all this.”

“Well… you’re my brother, I just thought you’d… I don’t know, judge me.”

Sonny tuts, “in my line of work, kid? I’m more approachable than our sista’s.” And he’s right, because you didn’t go to your sisters or your parents–Mia only found out by pure accident and a slip of the tongue.

“I—I guess so.” you say, lowering your eyes to the ground.

When Sonny lifts up your chin with his finger, your eyes meeting his in an oddly intimate gaze.

“I wanna help ‘ya, baby.”

“I dunno, Sonny. You’re… my brother,” you sigh.

“I’ll lock tha’ door, kid. ‘Ya ain’t gotta worry, hm? Jus’ gonna be between me ‘n you.” he hums.

He doesn’t wait for your response, hands moving to your sides and shimmying down your underwear.

As much as you hated to admit it, his touches drove you crazy. He looked at you so tenderly and it made your pussy throb. You never knew that your own older brother could make you feel so sexually charged.

“How’s this feelin’, baby?” he coos, running one finger up and down your slit while his other hand rests on your tummy.

“‘S-s’ good, Sonny,” you whimper, reminding Sonny of all those sweet moments you’ve shared as siblings. And now, you were moving so far away from that.

Sonny watched as your pussy juice dripped onto your bedding, leaving a little damp spot below you.

“Where’s ‘ya lil’ toy?” he asks, glancing at your bedside table.

“Uh–um…” you blush, reaching under your pillow and pulling out the tiny toy he’d seen you and Mia looking at a few days before.

He takes it from you gently, smiling as he goes back down to your pussy. He moves the bullet to your clit and savors your reaction, hips jutting upward as he presses the ‘on’ button.

“oh—Sonnnyy,” you moan, head falling back onto your pillow. Your older brother was making you feel better than you ever had, doing the same exact thing you’d tried countless times before.

Sonny moves the bullet downwards, inching it into your entrance as you gasp and try to keep yourself quiet. He slides it in and you can feel tears escaping your eyes at the blissful feeling of being fucked.

Then, the bullet died. You raised your head just enough to let out a single sob of discomfort, your eyebrows furrowing and thighs falling even further because of said discomfort. Your hips shimmy to get any sort of feeling back on your sensitive bud.

“Hey… s’alright,” Sonny said as he placed it on your nightstand, “I can use my fingers, see?”

Within a few seconds, Sonny had one fingertip on the outside of your underwear and was circling your clit in slow strokes. He heard you sigh in relief due to the brief absence of pleasure in your little bud. His fingertip was firmer than the plastic vibrator, you could feel the difference and preferred his fingers more.

Sonny was loving it more than he expected. Pleasuring you and making you feel good awoke something in him, and he never wanted to go back in holding back his feelings for you.

He used his free hand to turn your face so he could press a soft kiss on your lips, and your mind was so clouded that you kissed him back without a second thought. You let your own hidden thoughts and feelings about your older brother take charge (like they did when you touched yourself, but this time, you didn’t feel disgusted while it happened). Sonny’s lips were soft and by god he knew how to kiss, taking charge immediately and opening your mouth to him.

Sonny swallowed your sound of disappointment when he took his fingertips off your swollen clit and then he swallowed your moan when the same fingertips slid down to your dripping slit, feeling up and down the arousal he caused.

“S’this for me?” he asked against your lips and you nodded, “fuck–yeah, you–it’s for you,” and he smiled at your response. You’re so desperate.

When he reached for the toy, you were disappointed. You didn’t know why you expected him to pull himself out and fuck you; this whole time with him was supposed to be him teaching you how to use the toy he got you.

He placed the tip against you and slid it through your folds, your wetness coating his huge head. He bit his plump lip and his eyebrows furrowed together, now he was really imagining it being his cock–you were incredibly wet and he wanted to swap places with his molded cock.

“Shh, it’s just the head, you can take it,”

Sonny began slowly fucking you with the dildo, bringing it out until only the tip was inside you, to pushing it all the way back in until it barely kissed your cervix.

“That’s it,” he cooed, “just take it, relax…”

He smoothed his palm over your tummy and sprawled out his fingers. Sonny closed his eyes and tried—and he really did try—to imagine it was him inside you, making you make those little noises, making you feel good. To imagine pushing inside you and feeling your warm and wet hole contract around him.

Technically, it was. It was him inside you, making you feel so good.

You were taking his cock, despite it being a silicone copy. You were taking it like a champ, half of it being able to fill you and he knew that if he trained you enough you would be able to take all of it. Maybe that’s another activity he can do with you.

Sonny moved so he was between your legs and your eyes were transfixed to the very hard bulge in his gray sweatpants. Your pupils dilated even more and your mouth filled with saliva, legs spreading just a little more with pure want. You felt your insides throb at the thought of him inside you and you wanted nothing more than his body weight on top of you and his hard cock thrusting inside you until he was satisfied.

Your small hand wrapped around his wrist and he looked at you with soft, yet lust-blown eyes, “can I… can I see yours?”

It was a question he never expected you to ask him. He had obviously worked you up so much that lust had clouded your mind and you asked for what you wanted.

“You sure?” His hand rubs your bare thigh, and you felt the warmth from his palm on your burning skin and all you wanted was more. Your big brother’s fingers inside you again, and your eyes were locked onto the bulge in his sweatpants and your mouth watered at the idea of doing more than seeing it—but you had decorum (what was left, anyway) and you didn’t have the confidence to ask him to put it in your mouth.

“Yeah,” your voice came out as a hoarse whisper and you watched as Sonny’s thick and long fingers went to the waistband of his sweats and pulled down just enough that his cock slipped out and bobbed at the extra room–no longer being confined–and he heard your audible gulp at your first sighting at his very real, very erect cock.

Sonny hoped you didn’t recognise the shape as he held his sex-toy-copy in his spare hand, but he watched as you tore your eyes from it and to his face; “it’s… big,” is all you said.

“Can I touch it?” You licked your bottom lip.

Without answering, Sonny took your limp wrist and placed your loose hand on his cock, your fingers curling around his thick cock and he groaned at the first contact. Your head tipped to rest on his shoulder as you familiarized yourself with his cock, fingers tightening and your fingertips just barely touching.

“I bet you get all the girls and guys,” you smile lazily, eyes half lidded as your teeth bite your bottom lip. You wanted nothing more than for that to be inside you instead.

“Ya’ jealous?” He smirks and rubs the tip of the toy against your opening, sliding it up to your clit then back down again, teasing you.

As you muffle your moan and tug on his cock, Sonny decides that he has to fuck you one way or another—and right then, he wanted to fuck you with the toy. He wanted you somewhat used to having something big inside you before he even thought about convincing you to let him guide his cock inside you and fuck you hard and soft.

“Fuck–jesus, oh my god,” your back arched slightly as he thrust the tip inside you, already pushing you to the edge. He moved his wrist slowly, working you open enough to be able to take the tip of the toy. Sonny had been playing with you for so long that he had your body hyper-sensitive and aching for an orgasm. “Sonny–it’s big–really big–”

Sonny smiled down at you and continued to softly fuck you with it. A soft squelching filled the room and his cock twitched in your loose grip, your fist squeezing down on it lightly when the tip entered you and hit against the spongy spot inside you that you could never reach on your own without an intense arm workout that ultimately failed in the end anyway.

Sonny brought his other hand down to your wet clit and used the pad of his thumb to rub small circles on it, making it impossible to hold the moan that was caught in your throat. It was louder than you thought and Sonny gave you a warning look. Too loud meant that either of you could be caught doing what you were doing and it would’ve been a horrible event to explain.

“Shh, baby… ya need’a be quiet, need’a keep ya tone down. I know m’ makin’ ya feel good.”

You nodded, letting out a really shaky sigh and closing your eyes as Sonny pleasured you. You had to bite your tongue when Sonny slid more of the toy inside you and put more pressure on your clit. “Sonny—” you whined, clenching your eyes shut.

You could feel an orgasm creeping up on you, and it felt different since it wasn’t yourself that was causing it. It was someone else, and more importantly, it was your big brother; The Big Bad ADA. It turned you on more than you’d like to admit, being fucked by a dildo by your own brother while you held his heavy, large cock in your hand and jerked him off the best you could while you were feeling so fucking good.

The pace of the dildo-fucking changed, and you felt it punching inside your wet pussy harder and just a little bit faster and god, you felt so full. You didn’t know how much you were taking of the toy, but it felt like a lot. You wanted to scream that it felt so good, but all you let out was a frustrated, muffled moan held back by your lips.

“Like that, baby? S’it feelin’ good when I fuck ya like this?” His mock-baby-voice and cooing made you feel as if you were a puddle, and you nodded in response. Your hips tried their best to thrust back on the toy, but everything you were feeling was building and building and building into something you couldn’t handle.

You nodded as he fucked you with it even harder and managed to fit at least half of it inside you, leaving a white cream every time he pulled it from inside you and a little damp patch on your blanket with just how wet you were. Your legs shook as he kept it up, his thumb on your clit rubbing hard and fast and the toy punching inside of you had you teetering on the edge and he felt it. Your fist squeezed tight around his cock.

It hit you fast and hard, a few more hard circles from his thumb onto your swollen clit had your tight walls squeezing so hard on the toy inside you, taking only seconds for him to make you cum—hard.

Your fingers squeezed down on his cock as you experienced the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had in your life, little spurts leaving your puffy pussy as he fucked the cock into you. The pressure of your fingers along with being painfully hard and turned on allowed Sonny to thrust into your hand and groan deep from his chest as he came. His hot, milky cum shot from the head of his cock and landed on your thighs, pussy and abdomen.

Sonny slumped down on an arm on top of you, breathing hard as he came down from his high and his cock jerking in your loose grip, getting the last bits of himself out and onto your hot, sweat-slicked skin. He let go of the toy inside you and let the tip stay inside you, your bottom half twitching in the aftermath.

“Christ, kid,” Sonny chuckled, wetting his dry lips. “Ya really wrung me out t’dry.”

You let out a breathy laugh along with him and kissed him, because god did you need it. Need him. In your state of mind, you didn’t care about any consequences. You loved your big brother and you were confident he definitely loved you back.

The kiss was sloppy, drool leaving the corner of your mouth as you moaned into each other. Sonny reached between you to slowly slide the toy out from inside you and used his fingers to touch your very oversensitive pussy, swallowing your gasp.

“Came real hard, didn’t ya?” He smiled against your lips, leaning his head back enough to look into your dazed eyes. You smiled and pushed his face away, “don’t get all ‘high horse’ on me, counselor.”

He kissed you again, “next time, it ain’t gonna be the toy.”

And god, you wanted nothing more than that.

[delillilah]

Unexpected

September 18th, 2024

8:23 am

It’s too early to be awake in Emily’s opinion, she was also really tired from the previous nights but her parnets wanted her to come to brunch with her dads friends, hoping to set Emily up with a friends son.

She threw on a simple sundress then sandals and grabbed her bag. “You guys ready?!” She called out, Joe and tab came out and they left.

She was not enjoying one minute of that breakfast, the worst part is she couldn’t even go home or her parents would be stranded there, once she was finally able to sneak off to the bathroom she immediately called will, but was left with no answer, then she called Macklin.

“Hey em, your up early”

“Are you with will- or someone who can legally drive” she asks desperately, making Mack seem a little worried.

“Yeah I’m with will, why what’s wrong”

This peaked wills interest and made Mack put the phone on speaker.

“My parents made me come to this breakfast with there friends and there kid and- I don’t feel good I just want to go home can you-“

“We’re on our way, send me your location” wills says and begins to walk to the exit of the mall to his car.

She sits back at the table and whispers to her mom “Mack’s coming to get me” her mother shoots her a look, but says it’s fine because she’s not feeling well.

“It was nice to meet you guys, but I have to go”

she eventually sees wills car pull up and Macklin gets out. “Are you okay”

“Yeah, I’m so tired”

“We’ll take you home, here sit in the front”

She sits down and immediately directs the warm air onto her.

“It’s 83° degrees outside, how are you so cold?” Will asks as he pulls out of the parking lot.

“More like 38°, I might be getting a cold or something”

“Sounds like it” He reaches across and places the back of his hand on her forehead, only to snatch it back. “Jeez you’re burning”

will drove them back and decided to stay and help take care of her while Macklin (attempted) to make chicken soup.

“What’s the smell?” She asks with a groan, her eyes squinting from the sun blaring in the living room.

“Macklin cooking” will responds and her eyes just about popped out of her head and when she sat up making will laugh.

“He’s not that bad, you relax and I’ll go make sure your kitchen is still standing”

[lanawinterscigarettes]

Maybe something with love quinn dating a really picky eater? Like EXTREMELY picky. Thqnk you <3

I decided to go with headcanons rather than a fic, I hope that's okay! (I'm autistic and have food sensitivity so this was so relatable haha) hope you like it <3

Love Quinn dating someone who's a really picky eater

Warnings: referenced eating disorders, I think that's it??

Love is a lot more observant than most people give her credit for, so I think she'd recognize your pickiness right away

Making other people food is her love language, so she'd probably invite you over to her place or maybe even Anavrin's kitchen as one of your first dates so she can find out what your favorite meals are and make them accordingly

You know how in the first episode of season two she took Joe to all those different food places in LA so she could make him the perfect roast chicken after? That's how dedicated she is to finding out what you like

She keeps a mental (or maybe even a physical) list of all the things you like and don't like, textures that bother you, what your safe foods are, what you're open to trying, what's completely off limits, ect.

If you're the type of person who always orders the same chicken tenders and fries off the kid's menu at any semi-fancy restaurant you go to, she's more than happy to order it for you if it makes you feel embarrassed (and she's not afraid to chew someone out for making you feel bad about your eating preferences)

She makes it her personal goal to make sure you eat something at least once a day, just to be sure you're getting the proper nutrients that you need. Love knows that some pickiness when it comes to food can stem from some type of eating disorder, so she always gently encourages you to at least eat something small even if you're not very hungry

If you feel better eating with another person, then she'll always take her lunch breaks with you so you guys can eat together. If you'd rather eat alone, she'll check in on you just to make sure you're okay but other than that will leave you be (and of course she makes you lunch everyday, what kind of girlfriend would she be if she didn't?)

Even if you only eat the same five things on rotate, she still keeps the ingredients for said meals stocked up in her house so she can always have something that you'll want to eat (and if you ever fall out of interest with any of those things, no worries because she can just use the leftover products for Anavrin)

If you're ever having a day where nothing seems to strike your fancy, she'll take that as a challenge and makes it her personal mission to find at least one thing that'll spark your interest, even if the serving you eat is super small

No matter what your preferences are or what kind of struggles you may have with food, Love will always be understanding and supportive, doing whatever she can to make sure you always feel comfortable and safe with eating the food that she makes for you

End notes: this is kind of short but I hope you liked it regardless <3

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[ariadne-mouse]

Moc Weepe wishes he was Jonas Spahr so bad send tweet

[ohitslen]

Part two of the thing and uuh also final one

Of this interaction. Because this is far from all I can give, my brain almost imploded from all the ideas

[monstersinthecosmos]

the most rancid drama starters in fandoms are always like "gee i wish this fandom was nicer, why do we have to fight all the time :("

[abandoned-quiche]

i think what undertale fangames should really strive for is to push undertale's themes of mercy to the edge - push the PLAYER to see what their limits are on who deserves mercy.