#but the writers block had me in a chokehold

[strxwberrylemonxde]

joker x reader but im like batman or something and he's gay or something like idk

a/n: you are so real for this request bep-- I'm currently going through some writers block but i hope this was at least somewhat decent 😭 this also wasn't proof-read 💀

Joker with a Batman!Reader who sends you anonymous messages after escaping Arkham for the millionth time. Joker prides himself in being the only person in Gotham who can truly get under your skin, who can get you this close to breaking that silly little “moral code” of yours. Also because he’s literally in love with you. But why blame him though? All he wants to do is get a good laugh out of his favorite Bat.

Joker with a Batman!Reader who leaves little surprises for you around the city. A jack-in-the-box here, a deck of cards there, all with the same message on them: Come and get me, Batsy!💚 It’s giving queer. Who would he be without his little flamboyant schemes? Gotta keep the love of his life on their toes, ya know?

Joker with a Batman!Reader who calls this little cat-and-mouse game of his a “date.” Of course it’s a date! Why wouldn’t it be? After being treacherously locked away in the confines of a small padded cell, unable to do the most heinous things just to get caught by you, he’s finally able to reunite with his beloved Batsy! He can’t let those other heinous lunatics get to you first, that’s his job!

Joker with a Batman!Reader who, when you finally find him in the dingiest, darkest, warehouse in Gotham, has the biggest grin on his face and a glint in his eye. “Aw, I knew you cared about me!”

Joker with a Batman!Reader who, at the final showdown of this little charade, holds you at gunpoint with a wide smile on his face. “You know Bats, I missed this. Me, waltzing around Gotham with a smile on my face. And you, with that bright, big scowl on yours! You just can't get enough of me!” Pulling the trigger, a small bouquet of flowers shot out of the gun's barrel. “So when’s our wedding?”

[cassiesboy]

it's crazy it's been three years since i started getting into supernatural. i haven't had the time to invest in making fan things in a very long time and i do miss it a lot, but i also miss the people i used to keep up with (in a very loose sense, like just having your personal posts hit my feed on a regular basis even if we didn't talk) over here. what have u all been up to?? how r u?? leave a comment if u want im gonna do a mini life update in the tags

[thousand-winters]

Hunter sees him right away.

He wishes he didn't. He wishes his eyes would have lingered on the line up of all the Coven Heads, knowing what was coming but having valuable seconds to prepare for it. He wishes his legs had locked up in place, impeding him from getting any closer and having every horrible detail revealed to him, each new pattern on the wood . He wishes the sudden coldness hitting his body like the overflowing water of a graveyard and the weight on his chest reminiscent of one final act of love and letting him unable to catch his breath would be enough to stop him. But they're not.

 Or: Once they arrive at the Collector's castle, a reunion is inevitable.

[elixyzlio]

For those who read it <3

[ampersandnotdash]

fucking finally

[lueurjun]

f1 driver!boyfriend heeseung.

request — if you are accepting requests i was thinking maybe something like formula one driver heeseung x reader where they travel to support him at his races all around the world, and also watching their boyfriend become world champion at the end of the season? thank you <3 !! 🎀

eek ! sorry this took so long. i have been in a deep writers block. but i hope you enjoy this lovely <3 this is long, my bad… i got carried away because i loved writing this. i had so much fun im not even kidding, i think i’m going to turn this into a written series for heeseung.

refer to this edit for the vibes—it has me in a chokehold and gave me the motivation for this.

rocking back and forth because ARE YOU KIDDING ME?

LEE HEESEUNG?? FORMULA ONE DRIVER?

SEDATE ME ! I NEED THIS

ahem anyways :)

heeseung’s career began at eight years old when his parents finally gave in and allowed him to start go karting.

f1 was his dream! he had posters in his room. miniature car figurines in a glass case that he didn’t let anybody touch. he sat for every race, knew every driver and owned so much merch that his mother had to hide her credit card

it’s giving maddy knew who she was from a young age- it’s giving obsession- it’s giving me with my enhypen obsession-

it was clear from the get go that this kid had some talent. he knew what he was doing and he knew how to do it better than anyone else

though he’s always been a little bit of a shit talker and ended up in several friendly feuds with other upcoming drivers.

lmao can you imagine 8 year old heeseung bickering with max verstappen?

as he grew older, he began competing in various competitions, and won the majority of them which opened up the doors to competing internationally

years later, he secures a position in F3 and gradually works his way up to F2. eventually, he makes it into F1 as one of the most promising drivers, under the guidance of red bull

now let’s introduce you

*louder than heeseung* hey 😘😉

you met Heeseung at one of his karting races when he was 15. instantly recognizing his potential, you had him sign your phone case, insisting that he was going to be famous one day and you wanted to sell it on ebay when he did.

absolute icon if you ask me

he thought you were being ridiculous, but he couldn't help but feel flattered by your confidence. after signing your phone case, he surprised you by asking for your number.

and who are you to pass up on the opportunity to keep in touch with a soon to be famous racer?

i can race faster than him just sayin ✋🙂‍↔️🤚 broom broom

the two of you remained in touch, and you attended as many races as possible to support him as a best friend. two years later, just as he secured a seat in F2, heeseung nervously asked you to be his partner.

which, of course, you were more than happy to.

now, onto present day: f1 driver heeseung with you, his beloved partner.

not you in your wag era-

i genuinely see you owning a tiktok account where you kinda just post daily grwms or vlogs which feature heeseung and your life travelling with him

and everybody eats it up because they get to see the human side of heeseung not just the aggressive driver that shit talks everything and everyone

yes i’m making him a sassy shit talker because i want to SUE ME

you kinda prove to his haters that he’s actually a huge nerd with the cutest personality, which garners him a lot more support

his team ADORES you for this

but it’s also really funny because why is the p2 winner, cocky red bull driver giving your followers a haul on all of his toy story merch?

his helmet is definitely custom designed as buzz lightyear and i find that absolutely adorable

he also has your initial on his helmet somewhere that everyone thinks is so sickeningly cute

he calls it his good luck charm

you receive some hate with jealous people accusing you of only wanting his money and fame

haters come outside i’m not gonna do anything. haha. i just wanna talk ( and set their hair on fire ) just a lil chit chat 😃

but for the most part, you are actually very much adored

if fans see you walking around, they call out for you to take pics with them

which you do, albeit with a little hesitance, as you’re not used to the spotlight and don’t quite understand why people idolise you.

ummmm because you’re perfect🫶 hope this helps

in this scenario, you’re a full time influencer which makes it easy for you to travel alongside him and attend all of his races

which is good because you couldn’t make his japan gp due to an issue and he damn near lost his mind

bro was STRESSING

i would be too if i had u and had to deal with a couple days without u 🫶

he made it everyone’s issue

his team were so tired of him that they sent you multiple texts begging for you to get on a flight

he was so sassy during his interviews and the viewers immediately knew it was because you weren’t there

‘bringy/nback’ trended with memes making fun of him for being a brat without you there

he finished really badly that weekend

bro relies on you fr

when you eventually returned at his side for his next race

he was back to his angelic self

you made him apologize to all the team

imagine you stood behind him with your arms crossed, shaking your head while he sheepishly apologises in front of everyone for being difficult HAHHAHA

he was all smiles in his interview and got p1 because he was eager to impress you

gigglin and kickin my feet BECAUSE HES SO CUTE

and you’re stood in the paddock, watching with the biggest grin on your face

when the podium celebration rolls around, you’re front row and he makes sure you get hit with some champagne with the biggest shit eating grin you’ve ever seen

he ruined your very expensive outfit but you didn’t have it in you to be mad

i would never do that to you personally- just saying, your clothes would always be in pristine condition if you were with me… just sayin ✋😌🤚

when the two of you leave literally anywhere, he gets swarmed by fans

tells them to wait a second, and gets you to the car safely before he jogs over to sign some stuff

if you can’t get to the car, he makes sure your hand is in his, keeping you close whilst he signs things

he’s always hyper aware of your safety in public

if you’re instantly met with flashing lights, he will either cover your eyes or take off his hat and put it on your head to shield you

your safety always comes before his

also can we talk about your fashion?

you always dress to impress, never a bad outfit day

pfft is anyone surprised? you’re literally gods gift to earth- MOVE HEESEUNG

travel days are always so tiring for heeseung

which is when you become the protective one

holding him protectively whilst you both wait for your flight

running your hands through his hair

he holds you so tight; he doesn’t care who sees or about getting teased by his fellow drivers

when you’re finally in the air, whether it be private jet or not, you always make yourself into a personal pillow for him

it could be the cushiest flight known to man, and you’d still be his pillow

that should be me fr

he sleeps like a baby the whole time

and you don’t mind because you know he needs it

in the days leading up to the championship, he becomes…

unbearable? whiny? annoying? come here, i’d never- sorry sorry 😔

tense…

his stress levels are through the roof and nothing really helps other than just letting him be

he’s snappier than usual, but after many years together, you’ve learned to let it go

because you know this is a huge deal for him and he always apologises afterwards

the only thing you can really do is serve as his support and try to relax him as best as you can

like couple spa days when his schedule isn’t crammed

sightseeing to enjoy the beautiful country

even lying in your hotel room the night before, reminiscing about your relationship and his journey to becoming one of the best

you’d feel his heartbeat beneath your back which would be pressed up against him

his shaky breaths against the side of your neck as he pressed nervous kisses beneath your ear, nibbling slightly on the lobe

god… i’ve seen what you’ve done for others

“will you still love me if i don’t win tomorrow?”

you can tell he’s straddling the line between joking and genuinely needing reassurance

so, you do what you always do

you turn, cup both of his cheeks in your palms, and press your forehead against his

“you look funny.”

he’d giggle, and you’d start wiggling your eyebrows to make him laugh harder

and he always does, because to him, you’re the funniest person he’s ever met

then, you’d scrunch up your nose and gently sweep it against his, eventually leaving a kiss on the bridge.

“i will love you no matter what. even if you wake up tomorrow and decide that you want to quit, i will love you. even if you decide to walk away from it all, i will love you. because at the end of the day, it’s not the trophies that matter or the podiums. it’s you. you, you, you! your happiness, your peace of mind. you are my greatest achievement; you are my championship win. and i will love you until my heart beats its last pump of blood.”

if you look closely, you can see me drowning in the shower-

a million kisses are shared that night before the two of you finally slip into a steady sleep

when the next morning rolls around, heeseung doesn’t talk much as he gets himself ready for the race

you’re a bundle of nerves as you follow behind him, hand clutched in his own

pre race cuddles are a must in his little rest room

there’s not much talking, heeseung quite likes his silence to gather his mind and enter his racing headspace

but his hold on you, and the way he looks at you speaks for itself. you don’t need his words to know that he loves you and he wants to win not only for himself or red bull, but you.

“if we win this, i’ll give you my helmet to sell on ebay. i think it would go nicely with the signature i gave you at 15.”

your heart quite literally melts into a puddle at the memory

you grin, peppering a bunch of kisses all over his face until you finally land on his lips, soaking in the pre race nerves and savouring the taste of nutella from his pancakes he had that morning

“oh, i am going to be absolutely loaded.”

the two of you share a laugh, knowing silently that you’d never sell it on ebay because it’s tucked away in your memory box, where it will stay until you’re grey and old

a piece of the past where the two of you very first met

the peace drains from the room as though a plug had been pulled from the bathtub, with tension and nerves flooding in

look at me getting all poetic 😌

heeseung doesn’t let go of your hand until he absolutely has to

leaving you alongside his family members with a kiss so passionate it left your mind reeling

his mother grabs your hand after sharing her own moment with him, and the two of you hold on tight to the hope that he’s going to win

the race is tense, you’re almost in tears from the chaos and the nerves

your heart feels like it’s seconds from stopping as the end to the final lap approaches with heeseung in close second

he’s going to overtake, and you’re not quite sure whether your heart could handle it

STOP WHY IS MY HEART POUNDING AS IF IM THERE PLS

you grip onto his mother, the two of you holding onto each other in anticipation

it happens within seconds, you barely have time to process it

heeseung overtakes, barely missing the Ferrari car as he does so

several seconds later, your world stops as the red bull team bursts into celebration

someone is shaking you, gripping onto you with pure elation but everything is in slow motion

heeseung just won the world championship

your heeseung just won

nah because why am i crying? someone take my laptop i’m far too into this

you choke out a sob, allowing his mother to cradle you in her arms with tears flowing down her own cheeks

you’re a crying mess, blubbering proudly and unable to make sense of anything

you don’t even care that the camera is on you, displaying your reaction for everyone to see

“he did it!”

“he absolutely did!”

you don’t know how much time has passed before he’s running towards you, yanking the helmet off

there’s no time to process anything before he sweeps you up into his arms, pressing kisses all over your skin wherever his lips could fit

he holds you like you’re the trophy, lifting you up proudly like a medal

tears cascade down your cheeks like a summer waterfall, while warmth and joy spread through you

he did it. he actually did it.

“get that helmet signed, boy. i’m gonna be rich!”

[gatorbites-imagines]

Hi! I love your fics!

Can you do a Snobby!Rich!M!Reader x Jason Todd where Jason sees the reader at one of Bruce’s gala, boasting about how rich he (his dad) is. Jason thinks nothing of it at first until the reader starts coming up to Jason and bragging about how much richer he is etc. Eventually, Jason gets so fed up he takes the reader to his room where he fucks the shit out of the reader until the reader is begging and whining. Kinda like brat taming.

Jason Todd x Snobby Rich Male Reader

ficlet

Might have made the reader kind of an airhead, on accident. Hes also got some muscle, but in the “I only have muscles to look good” typa way.

Trying to stretch the writers muscle, since writers block has had me in a violent chokehold for weeks now. Not proof read for this reason, and because i have a major headache.

Jason rarely attended the various galas Bruce, or rather the Wayne name or Wayne enterprises, threw. He had only been dragged along because of a bet he had lost during their last patrol, meaning he had no choice but to go, since none of the others wanted to go to this specific gala. New investors were invited, which meant new money, which meant snobbier than usual rich folk.

It wasn’t hard to see you were new money when you arrived, from the way you carried yourself to the way you dressed. You didn’t stand out much amongst the rest of the new money folk, in expensive brands that cared more about the name than the actual design. But compared to the usual old money that normally attended Wayne galas, you stood out like a sore thumb. The way you were bragging didn’t help either, though, everyone seemed to be bragging, like some kind of measuring contest.

It only became a problem when you started bragging to him. You didn’t even seem to care that he was a Wayne, and definitely much richer than you. He found himself indulging your rambling and peacocking in the beginning, it wasn’t Jasons fault his type were cocky little brats who thought they were untouchable.

The way you fluttered around, chest puffed out, hand on your cocked hip as your lip pouted in a way that made Jason want to bite it. As you grew more tipsy your bragging went from cute to obnoxious, making a heady annoyance start brimming under his skin.

Jason felt what little patience he had left snap when you were so obnoxious as to pull up your Gucci shirt, your lips in such a cocky grin as you showed him the red diamond piercings in your nipples. Seeing the red against your flushed skin made his jaws clench, and before your next brag and boast could sputter out of you, Jasons large hand closed around your bicep and pulled you his way.

You stumbled as Jason lugged you up the many stairs inside the manor, up to the upper floors that were never open during galas, down the hallways and in through a door. There wasn’t much time for you to look around, or comment about the poor looking design, before Jason was upon you like a starved wolf upon a rabbit.

His lips were dry, and this close you could feel the scars carved against them. The noise that left you was borderline pathetic as his tongue slid between your lips, the thick muscle dragging against the roof of your mouth, before Jason truly started devouring you. Grasping uselessly at his suit jacket, you felt so unsure on your feet and dizzy, like you were about to collapse against him.

A sharp gasp tumbled out of you as Jason picked you up, his strong arms flexing like you weighed nothing. It clicked somewhere in the back of your mind that those muscles of his weren’t just for show. Not like you who only worked out and ate well to have the appearance the masses only dreamed of. As you were lost in your thoughts Jason threw you down on the bed, his strong hands grasping at your shirt and jacket, ripping the fabric down the middle, resulting in you whining and crowing in the way only a spoiled rich person could.

The breath that he huffed out was sharp and short, his green eyes flicking up to meet yours, so much intensity in them that you felt your spine straighten. “Ill buy you something better” he grunted as he ripped your pants and boxers, shredding the fugly fabric and throwing the strips off to the side like useless trash.

It was habit at this point that had you whining and complaining, even going as far as to roll onto your front and kicking your legs in a pitiful way, complaining the entire time about him not respecting you or your things, and how he was just some dumb musclehead that didn’t know anything.

Jason didn’t even have the energy to act like he was listening, watching as the muscles of your back flex and pull. There was no true definition for your build, no muscles built from hard work or a rough life, like you were some kinda kendoll with the perfect muscle to fat ratio and specialized trainers. But it did give you an amazing ass, round and perky, the sight of it making Jason drool with the need to taste.

Your next protest was completely cut off as Jasons rough scarred hands grabbed your cheeks, spreading them just far enough for him to bury his mouth between them. A high-pitched squeak that melted into a watery whine rang from you, as Jasons broad wet tongue buried itself in your hole. Burying your face into one of his pillows, you tried to silence the embarrassing noises, eyes prickling with unshed tears as Jason’s hand snuck under your hips to fondle your weeping hardness.

Jason pulled back with a wet slurp, his lips and chin covered in drool as he glanced up over the expanse of your back, seeing the way your head was ducked down and hiding. “I thought you were whining, come on, tell me how much you hate it” he purred, voice deep and hot, making your insides clench as it felt like honey running down your spine.

You lift your face enough to stutter out a few half thought out protests and fussy words, none of them actually making much sense. Behind you Jason smirked, knowing what little brain you had was struggling hard to piece together your usual bravado, which also allowed him to coat his fingers in lube and warm it up enough to not be too uncomfortable.

Once again, your words were cut off as Jasons slicked fingers slid inside you, Jason crawling up enough to rest against your back. He was much bulkier than you were, his scarred torso pressed against your own blemish free back, his weight pressing you deeper into the mattress.

There were a few attempts to insult him, but the way Jason seemed to have expertly found your prostate, and how he kept rubbing against it, you found it very hard to form your lips to muster up any meaningful words. It all felt like too much, everything was too hot, too slick, too stimulating but also not enough, and Jason only seemed to enjoy your reactions more and more.

Through it all Jason made sure to press kisses against your shoulders and neck, the dirtiest but most delicious words mumbled into your ear, as his fingers twisted and turned in ways that had you tearing up. You didn’t even notice how he added more fingers, until Jason finally withdrew them completely and he sat back on his haunches.

It took more brainpower than you had at the moment to peek over your shoulder, your eyes shooting wide at his overly scarred torso, but also the weapon he was rolling a condom down onto. As if sensing your thoughts Jason crawled back on top of you, rubbing himself against you as he reassured you that it would fit, you just had to be good.

The comment about your behavior made you sour, scrunching up your brows and sticking out your lip in a pout. Instead of scolding you, Jason just hooked an arm around your upper torso, turning you enough to kiss you, just to distract you enough to keep you loose and pliant for him to slide inside. The stretch had you whining, but it didn’t hurt anywhere near as much as you thought it would, and soon Jason was seated fully inside.

It had never been Jason’s plan to go easy on you, but he gave you enough time to adjust before he started moving, drawing back before pushing back in with a strong thrust of his hips. Like his fingers Jason seemed way too skilled at finding your prostate, which made your arms give out and sending you crashing back into the mattress as his hips shoved against your own.

His tone was almost taunting as Jason lifted you up by the grip he had around your torso, his voice thick and mocking in a hot and fluid way, reminding you to breathe. It was only then that you realized you had been holding your breath, the air fucked right out of your lungs every time he shoved into you, and his fast and deep pace gave you no time to gasp air back into your lungs.

Tears blurred your vision as you panted and almost drooled, hands clawing and grasping at the sheets. You were sure you must of cum at least once, if not twice, but Jason gave you no time to bask in it or fully register it before the next jab against your prostate had you reeling.

The noises that left you might have been begs and pleas, for him to go harder, faster, for more, but you couldn’t have been sure. At some point Jason even started praising you, making sure to speak right into your ear, telling you just how good you were taking it, and wasn’t it just so much nicer to not be such a brat? A warbly whine left you in response, a full body shudder crashing through you, as you tumbled over the edge for what must have been the third time.

Jason seemed to finally have met his own end, a deep guttural groan ringing from his chest as you bottomed out, his eyes clenched and brows furrowed as he spilled into the rubber around his length. Part of him regretted not just taking you raw, but there was always next time.

You must have fallen asleep or passed out, as you were clean and in a pair of boxers when you next came too. You were even laying against Jason’s chest, one of his strong arms wrapped around your back to keep you pressed against him, ear against his pec, his heartbeat strong and even. A soft kiss was pressed against the top of your head, Jason muttering for you to go back to sleep.

And who were you to protest. Normally you would have started a fuss just because he thought he could order you around, but the way a deep satisfying exhaustion hung over you was enough to keep you quiet and compliant, for now. As you slumped back against him Jason just chuckled slightly, flipping to the next page in the book he was reading, his other hand rubbing up and down your back. Maybe you weren’t so bad as he had thought, Jason didn’t even mind your snooty attitude, since he gave him an excuse to tame the brat right out of you.

[lumiambrose]

writers block does not go hard so here's a little self-indulgence...

f!reader x kaiser, nsfw below the cut, degredation, semi-public sex

kaiser has a tattoo on his thigh. another rose tattoo that wraps around his thigh and lower abdomen. he doesn't really show it off and nobody really knows about it. except you of course ;)

how? well... you just so happened to run into him last night at the club. your initial plan was to get drunk and party with your girlfriends, but that idea was short lived after you caught the blonde-haired man's eye who was lounging in the vip section.

after observing the way you'd bring smiles to all your friends faces or the way your hips swayed to the music blasting through the club, he knew he needed to know more.

so of course, kaiser ordered security to bring you up into the vip section and god, you were even more stunning up close. the tint of your lips, your silky shiny hair and your sweet sweet curves had him in a chokehold and god, it made him so hard.

he sat you down next to him and got to know you throughout the evening. well... he tried, he just couldn't keep his eyes off your sweet lips and plush tits.

and at some point late at night, he snapped. he couldn't take it anymore as he leaned in to tower over you smashing his lips to yours. taking you by surprise as he devoured your mouth, exploring every part of you, tasting the remains of the alcohol you just consumed.

despite your initial surprise, you leaned in to deepen the kiss, finally getting what you spent this whole night working for.

come on. who wouldn't dress up all sexy and go clubbing if they knew the michael kaiser was in your city?

he didn't have to know that of course. especially when this man pulls you into his lap to get closer to your throbbing heat, letting you grind on him. letting you use him.

you should be ashamed, you really should, behaving like such a whore in public. but with the gorgeous blonde grinding your hips on his aching cock, giving you so much pleasure. you can't help but whine into his mouth.

and eventually, he can't take it either. picking you up and taking you to the vip bathroom so he can finally get that blissful release that his cock aches for.

your lean against the sink as kaiser lifts your dress up and takes off your panties, storing them in his pockets for whatever fucked up reason he may have in mind.

"so wet for me." he coos into your ear as his fingers trace your slick, electing a whine from your lips.

slipping his thumb into your mouth to shut you up, he warns you, "nicht so laut, süsser. you don't want security to hear us do you?"

he then bends you over the counter as he aligns his cock with your throbbing entrace, "or maybe you do. dirty whores do like getting caught, don't they?" he teases as he gives your ass a harsh slap and finally enters you.

he absolutely ravages your pretty pussy with his fat cock, balls slapping against the plush of your ass with every thrust. the longer this goes on, the more blank your mind goes.

"what a dumb bitch" he snickers as his free hand reaches for your throat, "i haven't been inside of you for more than five minutes and you're already drunk on my dick." clenching your throat to draw out the air from your lungs.

he would be lying if he said the sight in front of him didn't absolutely destroy him. your teary eyes and fucked out expression only fuelled him further, fucking into you harder and faster.

your orgasm closes in and you cream around his long dick, trying your best to keep yourself up while you whine his name. with your legs trembling kaiser holds you up with the arm that was previously on your neck, to now place you down on your knees.

he didn't need to say anything as you went to take his cock in your mouth, tasting your own arousal mixed with his precum. to keep yourself from falling, you grip onto his chiselled thighs and that's when you finally notice the pretty rose tattoo carved along his lower body.

choking yourself on his length you trace the tattoo with one of your hands, fingers gliding gently over it as you notice it elicits such a desperate reaction from the blonde striker.

gasping at the overwhelming sensations he lets out a strained "scheisse" as he grips your hair to fuck himself down your throat, burying himself in you as he spills his hot load down your throat.

he eventually pulls out and admires your lustful expression as he helps you up and cleans you off before swiftly heading back to the vip section, leaving you fucked out and needy for more.

after you fix your makeup, you head out to find the man you just fucked lazing on the velvet sofa with two cocktails on the table next to him as he beckons you over. letting you know that the night between you and the rose-tattooed man was far from over.

[roguerambles]

All Morning

Tekken - Jin Kazama x Reader x Hwoarang

Warnings - 18+Only.

Writer's Block still has me in a chokehold, but with Tekken 8 coming SOON, I wanted to try something short and fluffy with these two.

I've said it before, but there is a criminal lack of Tekken x Reader out there and we as a society should rectify this post-haste--

Enjoy the Rambles!

-

You awoke to the sounds of Jin and Hwoarang fighting.

This was hardly an unusual occurrence, but you had been greatly looking forward to a long, peaceful, lazy morning, and they had promised to behave. You squeezed your eyes shut, desperately trying to will yourself back into slumber--

"You are doing it wrong--"

"Outta the way!"

"Pitiful."

"What'd you say?!"

There was a loud crash as the sound of something in your kitchen smashing on the floor made you wince, and you forced your eyes open, glowering at the ceiling as Jin and Hwoarang continued to hiss at each through the thin walls of your apartment.

One morning...just one....

A thick cloud of irritation quickly rolled over you, obscuring the bright sunshine trickling through your bedroom window. Kicking the blankets off you roughly, you swung your feet off the side of the bed, grumbling under your breath as you marched towards the door.

"I swear if you two have wrecked my kitchen again—”

You shoved the door open and marched across your living room, squinting in the glare of sunlight shining through the bay windows. Jin and Hwoarang’s heads snapped towards you, their eyes wide. The were stood across from each other, a scattered bowl at their feet, their clothes….

…covered in flour.

You stared at Jin and Hwoarang, who both stared back, mutely. You were beginning to think you were still asleep.

It was Jin who spoke first, his voice a low, irritated huff as he stepped around Hwoarang, kneeling down to begin clearing up the shattered bowl on the kitchen floor. “Now look what you’ve done.” He snapped at the red haired man. Hwoarang’s expressed soured as tore his gaze away from you to glower at Jin.

“What did you say?! You sayin this is my fault—”

“Yes.”

“Why I outta--!”

“Are you two making pancakes?”

Both men fell silent once more. You stared at them, then at the cluttered countertop – eggs, mixing bowls, an unholy amount of flour and sugar and strawberry syrup—

“…it was his idea.” Hwoarang grumbled, scowling at a corner of the kitchen that had somehow gravely offended him. Jin shot Hwoarang an irritated glance, while you rubbed your eyes, blinking a few times afterwards at the scene before you.

…yes, definitely not dreaming.

“Do you two even know how to make pancakes?” You asked. Jin gestured towards the countertop, where Hwoarang’s phone sat.

“…Xiaoyu sent us instructions.”

Hwoarang snorted. “Yeah. Instructions. In between all the memes and emojis—”

“They are simple enough to follow, if Hwoarang would listen for once—”

��Eh?! You trying to fight—”

“Why are you making pancakes in the first place?”

Both men fell silent again. Jin stared somewhere above your head, while Hwoarang rubbed the back of his neck. They seemed…bashful.

You folded your arms, realisation beginning to dawn on you, a smile twitching onto your lips. “Guys….”

“We have not had a morning together in some time.” Jin said finally, beginning to look slightly sheepish. “I…thought it would be…nice.”

…God, you adored those beautiful fools.

Smiling, you stepped around the counter, leaning up to softly brush your lips against Jin’s cheek. His eyes widened slightly, the faintest tint of red on his skin. “You’re sweet.” You murmured in his ear. He chuckled slightly, his palm sliding over to your hip.

“Hey.” Hwoarang cut in, lips tugging downwards in a sharp frown, puffing like a bird whose feathers had been thoroughly ruffled. “I helped—”

“Hardly.”

“That’s it, right here, Kazama—”

You laughed, catching Hwoarang’s forearm, tugging him towards you so you could press a kiss to his jawline. He grumbled, glaring at Jin over your head, his arms slipping around your waist. You trailed your fingers over his arm, while your free hand grazed slowly up Jin’s torso.

“So, if this is all for me…” You hummed thoughtfully, and both Jin and Hwoarang paused in their bickering, their heads snapping towards you as you smiled coyly at them. “…does that mean I get to make requests?”

Both men looked at each other, then back at you. “I suppose.” Jin said, stepping closer towards you, his eyes moving over you like a slow caress.

You felt Hwoarang press into your back, his rough hands sliding around your hips, a pleased grin spreading across his handsome face. “I guess.” His voice was low in your ear, wicked promises in his tone. “What is it you want, hmmmm…?”

You already had something in mind.

-

“You are so cute when you pout, Hwoarang.”

The red head responded by glowering at you from the kitchen, aggressively stirring the large mixing bowl tucked against his arm. The toned muscle of his abdomen flexed and contracted with every movement, and he turned sharply towards the back counter, giving you an uninterrupted view of his broad shoulders, the naked expanse of his back trailing down to narrow hips, his low hanging pants snuggly accentuating his perfectly formed—

“Coffee?”

You tore your eyes away from Hwoarang to get a new, equally pleasing eyeful of a half-naked Jin Kazama holding a fresh mug of coffee under your nose. You made an appreciative sound – not entirely because of the beverage – and accepted it with a smile, while Jin rolled his eyes slightly and headed back towards the kitchen to finish making breakfast. You settled back onto the couch, sipping from your mug as you admired the morning view of two unreasonably gorgeous, half-dressedmen making you pancakes.

“This isn’t what I was thinking of...” Hwoarang grumbled as Jin rejoined him in the kitchen. You smiled brightly and lifted your mug in salute.

“It’s what I was thinking.” You tilted your head, eyes trailing down Jin’s abdomen, shamelessly admiringly the way the sun caressed his flawlessly carved physique, the smooth roll of Hwoarang’s muscles beneath his smooth skin. “Although I confess, reality is better than my imagination…”

“Thank you.” Jin said, his tone dry as paper. His large hands closed around a jar of sugar, tugging the lid off – the muscles of his arms flexed and bulged downright indecently, and you knew you caught the hint of a smile on his lips as he caught your gaze lingering. Hwoarang scoffed, but you caught him tensing slightly as he reached into the cupboard, the muscles in his back flexing deliciously, his sharp gaze catching yours over his shoulder.

You were beginning to contemplate requesting to forget about breakfast entirely, but you reminded yourself to be patient.

The three of you had all morning, after all.

[meiieiri]

LITTLE NYMPH OF HIS HEART — GETO SUGURU

❁—SYNOPSIS: in which suguru meets his newborn daughter.

a/n: my writer’s block has me in such a horrible chokehold that this took me an hour to write. also, fuck why isn't this real UGH (⇀‸↼‶)⊃

only an hour and twelve minutes old and she’s already crushing his heart into irreparable smithereens. and she isn’t even doing anything.

she doesn’t have to, really, she could just sleep soundly, and maybe let out a tiny little coo now and then, and her father would weep a million tears to flood the entire earth and plunge it into the realm of archaic legends maybe even more mythical than that of the ancient underwater city of atlantis.

suguru sniffles, holding the little bundle closer to his bare chest when she yawns and shifts ever so slightly, favoring the warmth of her father’s skin. so this is what the doctors meant when they said that the first skin-to-skin contact with his newborn was going to be an emotional affair, he downplayed it as some gross exaggeration and even refused the roll of tissues the nurses had been offering him.

and what a huge blunder that was.

“look at her,” he brings a calloused thumb to stroke her rosy cheek, fearing that the weight of his entire hand would overwhelm the little girl. no, his little girl — your newborn daughter.

“it’s like she knows she’s a heartbreaker,” he turns to look at you, his eyes glossy with joyful tears. “just like you.”

you could only let out a quiet tearful laugh, your voice absolutely shredded and strained from the harrowing ordeal of bringing your most precious one into the world.

“or you,” you retort, leaning your head back against the many pillows that suguru had the nurses bring in. “just how many nurses did you have to wink at for these?” you joked, gesturing to the pillows, and the many comforts such as hot compresses and ice chips sitting atop your hospital bedside table.

suguru rolls his eyes, a smile playing at his lips. he turns his attention to the little girl who, seemingly having heard her parents’ voices, feels a little left out leading her to create a slight fuss in her dad’s arms, hiccuping once.

“oh,” suguru coos, consoling her by tickling the soft skin of her feet. “it’s okay, mama’s just being mean.”

despite his words though, he slowly stands up and carefully joins you on the bed, instinctively wrapping an arm around you to tuck you into his side, his heartbeat on the high line knowing that both his girls were safe in his arms, where the both of you rightfully belonged.

“but you’re gonna love her anyway. i know i do,” he reassures his daughter, stroking her little tuft of obsidian black hair, his first gift to her, as if the newborn had the intellectual capacity to understand a single word that comes out of his mouth.

you indulge him anyway, leaving him to his sweet ramblings, preferring not to say anything that could sully this moment of pure unadulterated bliss, a mere passing second in the vast expanse of the turbulent life you and suguru will have to lead as protectors of those who are vulnerable to the demonic forces that lurk in the world’s many back-alleys where even the purest sunlight could not reach. suguru’s soul had been so tormented by the abyssal darkness that slowly consumed him owed to the many cursed spirits he’s had to exorcise that he had long believed himself to be damned, forsaken by the heavens.

but now, how could he still find the nerve to hold on to that pessimistic and borderline cynical belief as he cradles the little nymph of his heart in his arms?

suddenly, a thought hits you and you sit up to stare down at your daughter who was contentedly and happily gurgling away as suguru pokes the tip of her nose.

“akari,” you whisper, testing out the feel of your daughter’s would be name on your lips — the faithful companion that will walk with her for life, a sacred gift that will outlive you and her father. suguru’s eyes widen, awe-struck at the notion of you wanting to name your daughter after the brilliant morning sun, the same one that had greeted her the minute she came into this world.

“akari,” suguru’s voice wobbles. overwhelmed by the rush of emotions, he shifts to press a loving kiss on the crown of your head before bringing akari’s little hand to his lips, softly kissing her minuscule fingers in pure adoration. “heaven’s light.”

[lottesreads]

Why Me? - Part 11

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Mitchell! Female Reader (Callsign Mantis)

Warnings: Forbidden relationship, ANGST, violence, nightmares, mentions of PTSD, mentions of child abuse, swearing, mentions of anxiety and panic attacks, therapy (we love), mentions of death/being sick

Word Count: 12k

Summary: You're still reeling after what happened with Bob, but it all comes crashing down to reality when you go to work the next day. As you reminisce on memories you thought were lost, you make a move you know you should have made a long time ago. Things come to a head with Rooster once more, and you find yourself grieving for something you never had.

A/N: Well hellooo beautiful people!! I apologize for being gone so long, writers block had me in a chokehold and... yeah. But I'm back and I hope you enjoy! I'm not making any promises, but hopefully the next part will be out MUCH sooner than this one was.

p.s. I love every single one of you and comments and reblogs keep me going. That is all.

Masterlist

21 years ago

“Bug!”, Carole yells up the stairs, “We gotta meet your dad and Bradley at the school, we’re gonna be late!” It was only your first week of being back with your dad and the Bradshaw’s for the summer, but it was a busy one at that. Bradley was still finishing up his last week of school while yours got out two weeks ago. And while your dad just got home from a 6-month deployment three days ago, Carole and Bradley were more than happy to make the weekend trip up to Ohio to come get you before he came back.

“Bug!”, she yells one more time with no response. Breathing out a sigh, she ascends the stairs and knocks on your door. “Are you almost ready sweetheart? We’re gonna be late for Bradley’s piano recital” Using two hands to open the door, you stand before her in the frilly yellow sundress the two of you bought while shopping the previous day. “Well don’t you look pretty! Are you all ready to go?” She watches as you shift your mouth to the side of your face. Bending to your level, she moves to push some of your hair behind your ear.

“What’s a matter?” You shrug and look into her big blue eyes. She hums in question as she looks you over. Your lip wobbles as you reach to touch the necklace around her neck, admiring it with gentle fingers. They trace over the silver butterfly pendant hanging just below her collar bone. Something was wrong this time around. You were… different from the little girl she said goodbye to last August. More timid, almost frightened to do anything you would deem as wrong. You weren’t even like this when you spent your winter break with them. It might have been the excitement of the impending holiday that kept her from noticing, but something changed since then.

It wasn’t uncommon for you to run into her arms when you first saw her for the summer, but the way you clutched onto her shirt and wouldn’t let go, so hard to the point that she had to carry you to the car, she knew something was wrong. And now, you’ve been so quiet. So unlike what she’s used to when you’re with Bradley, or just in her presence for that matter. When she got you all buckled in and on the road, it took less than 20 minutes for you to be knocked out completely, like you were finally able to let your guard down and sleep.

“I missed you and daddy. And Bradley.” Her heart breaks as she watches you sniffle. As you let go of the necklace, she reaches forward and effortlessly wraps you in a hug.

“Oh bug, we missed you, too. So much.” Her hand rubs circles up and down your back as she comforts you. “But we’ll get this whole summer together, and we’re gonna have so much fun. Right?” She moves back to watch you nod your head and rub a small fist over your cheek. Instinctively her hands move to replace your own, swiping your tears away with her thumbs.

Your eyes move back to the necklace and she follows your gaze. Without a second thought, her hands move behind her neck, unclasping it as she holds it in her fingers for you to look at.

“Did I ever tell you where I got this necklace from?” Shaking your head, you sniffle once more. “You know how I told you about your uncle Goose? Bradley’s daddy?” You nod as you trace your fingers along the chain. “Well, on our first date we went to a movie, then walked around in this big mall, kinda like the one we went to. We passed a jewelry store, and this necklace was in the window. I stopped to look at it and I told him how pretty I thought it was.” She pauses for one second before lightly pushing on your shoulders to turn you around.

“We went on a few more dates after that. And then-”, the necklace falls into your view as her hands come up to clasp it around your neck, “He finally asked me to be his girlfriend. I asked what took him so long, and he told me he was so nervous I would say no. Isn’t that so silly?” You giggle as she turns to have you look at her once more. “I of course said yes, and then that goof, he reached into his back pocket and gave me a little bag. And inside of it was this necklace.” She pokes the spot where the butterfly sits on your chest, hanging a little longer on your small body than on hers. “In that moment I realized two things. First, was that he bought the necklace still thinking I would say no. And knowing him he would have given it to me either way. And second, was that I was pretty darn sure I was gonna marry him.”

“Do you miss him?” your tiny voice asks as she looks up from the necklace back to your innocent eyes.

“Everyday. I used to wear this necklace to remind me of him, or look at my wedding ring that he picked out all by himself. But I realized I can just look over to Bradley and know there’s still a little piece of him with me everywhere I go.” Her eyes fill with unshed tears, not unlike most times when she thinks about her husband, but she smiles through it like she always does. Her hand smooths over your head as she looks at you wearing her necklace.

“Oh he would have absolutely adored you.” She clears her throat once before changing subjects, “Now whenever you look at this necklace I want you to remember that me, Bradley, and your Daddy are always with you, ok? No matter what.”

“I can keep it?”

“Of course!”, she says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world she’s gifting you something that means so much to her. “But you have to promise me one other thing, ok?”

“What?”, you whisper.

“I want you to be brave like your uncle Goose. Because even though he was scared, he asked me anyway. And if he were here, he would tell you it was so worth it. So bug, do you think you can be brave for me?” You silently nod your head at her words, hair falling in your face as you do so. She doesn’t need to push it back for you as you do it yourself this time in order to look at her with your head held high.

“Good”, she whispers with a smile. It falls slightly as she asks you, “Is there anything you wanna tell me?” She holds her breath as you nod.

“Does Bradley practice piano a lot?” She stifles a laugh as her brows furrow.

“All the time, why do you ask?”

“Last time he was playing he wasn’t very good.” Hiding her face, she takes both of your hands in hers, rubbing your fingers.

“Don’t worry sweetheart, he’s gotten a lot better since then. And even if he didn’t, we’d still be front row cheering him on, right?”

“Right”, you say with a big nod.

“Speaking of, we’re gonna be late!” She squeezes your hand as the two of you bound down the stairs and into her car. 

“Was uncle Goose good at piano?”

“Oh he was so good at piano.”

“I hope Bradley is, too.” She laughs as she buckles you in the back seat.

“If he’s anything like his daddy he’ll be great. He’ll look like a wild bird doing it, but he’ll be just fine.”

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

Present Day

Your dad wasn’t lying when he told you he’d be waiting until you got home. Opening the door, you’re presented with the back of his head as he watches an old rerun of M.A.S.H. The door clicks as you lock it, and he turns off the t.v. at the sound. You give him a slight smile as he rounds the couch. Even though you drove the entire ten minutes back to your house with all the windows down and the AC on full blast, you can still feel a flush taking hold of your cheeks.

“How was dinner at Marcello’s?”, he asks as he folds his arms across his chest, yawning. You search your brain for what the hell he’s talking about until you remember what you told him you were doing.

“Oh yeah, it was good. Sorry it took so long, we started catching up and I didn’t realize what time it was”, you attempt to step past him.

“Who were you seeing again?”

“Just a friend from high school, she was in the area on a work trip”, you lie. It was easier this way. If you told him you were going to Bob’s he might ask questions about him, and it could lead to more invasive things you didn’t want to answer. Making something up completely different was easier than lying about Bob at all. Your dad hums at your answer, and you think he can almost see through you.

“Rooster was there on a date. I’m surprised you didn’t run into him.”

“It was packed for a Wednesday night. And since when does he tell you about his dating life?”

“Oh I don’t know. He called to let me know he had a box of my old things and we just got to talking. You might actually know her, he said she was a friend of Phoenix’s girl.” You stop at the bottom of the stairs, and you can almost feel your eye start to twitch as you slowly turn around. “For the life of me I can’t remember her name.”

“Does it happen to be Emily?” He snaps his fingers as he starts readjusting the coffee table and turning lights off.

“That’s it. You know her?”

“Oh”, you scoff, “Yeah I know her. Rooster knows her very well, actually.” He stops what he’s doing and turns to you.

“What does that mean- You know what? I don’t wanna know”, he decides as he walks over to you, placing a kiss at the top of your head. “Goodnight kiddo”, he says with a yawn. He walks down the hall to his own room, while you remain at the bottom of the steps.

“What an asshole”, you mutter under your breath. For a moment, you aren’t thinking about what just happened with Bob, you’re thinking about just how rude both Rooster and Emily were to him only a week ago. And after Rooster’s “apology”, he is now going on a date with the woman who had the audacity to laugh in Bob’s face? Typical.

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

You hardly sleep at all that night. Worried that you might wake up from another dream. Or not wake up at all and be trapped. These are paranoid thoughts, you know that. But all the same, your body will not allow you to relax for more than an hour. It isn’t until you’re sure you’ve fallen asleep for at least 20 minutes that your alarm startles you awake.

Groaning, you get up and head to your bathroom. You can already hear your dad starting his morning routine from his room below yours, and you focus on the noise to distract yourself from what you have to walk into today. Not only do you try and fail to forget how Bob’s hands felt, or how rushed he was just to kiss you, the worst part is that you don’t want to forget. You don’t want to pretend like nothing happened. You want to walk up to him and give him a kiss, ask him how the rest of his night was, if he wants to go see a movie with you on Saturday. But no. You learned from a very young age that getting what you want wasn’t really written in the stars.

However, pulling your hair back into a tight bun, you remember that you do have something that you want. You had to sacrifice a lot for it, but you got it in the end. The career you’ve always wanted, what you knew you were meant for deep down. Your eyes flicker from your hands as they deftly work to make sure not a hair is out of place, and then back to your face. Your hands stop as you stare at the slope of your nose, the shape and color of your eyes, anything that you think reminds everyone else of her.

You shake your head and get back to the task at hand. Once you’re finished, you eye strictly your hair in the mirror to make sure it’s up to standard, and your eye catches on your phone at the edge of the counter. You begin to chew your lip before unlocking it and searching through your contacts. Under Avila Clinic, your finger hovers.

Contrary to what Penny might have thought, you did have a therapist once upon a time. After your first few nightmares at the Academy, and with the support of Phoenix, you started therapy. Your therapist, Mary, was extremely helpful and understanding. You went to her for years while at school, but then deployments started happening and you got distracted. Life started to finally make sense, and your dreams were few and far between. Eventually they stopped happening altogether, and your naive brain thought that meant they were gone for good. Her practice is on the other coast, but you know it’s going to take a while for a new therapist to get your entire backstory to try and help you. You need someone who already knows, possesses the knowledge on how to help you. Someone you are already comfortable with sharing your feelings with.

A knock comes from your door taking you out of your thoughts.

“You almost ready to go?”, your dad asks from the hall. Your stomach flips at the thought of having to go to work, even if you do love it. Things have been… complicated recently. And even if you did pretend nothing happened already, you have a gut feeling it’s gonna be a lot harder than it was at the beginning of the week.

“Yeah”, you respond, “I’ll be out in a minute.”

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

Your father is none the wiser as you walk onto base. Your heart is beating so fast you’re worried he might be able to hear the echo against your chest. While he heads to his office to gather what he needs for the day, you set your things in the locker room. You know he’s going to be in there when you walk in the room. Like he always is. Because he’s always so prepared. Groaning, you shut the metal door to your locker and rest your forehead on the cool surface.

“Everything ok Mantis?”, Phoenix’s voice sounds from beside you.

“Oh everything is fine and dandy.” Her locker closes as she moves you by your shoulders, leading you out of the room and to your anxiety-induced nightmare.

“Ok weirdo. You gonna tell me what’s really on your mind?” She doesn’t stop as she marches you through the classroom where Bob is patiently waiting in his seat. Your eyes meet for the briefest moment before the influx of the rest of the group forces you to move toward your seat. 

“Maybe later”, you whisper to her as she sits. Your gut twists as you try and fail to not stare at the back of Bob’s head. Just last night your fingers were running through that same hair, and now you have to pretend like you don’t know what his body feels like against your own. Those thoughts are extinguished rather quickly as Rooster sits next to you. Your body goes rigid as you remember what else your dad told you last night. How dare he? After everything he’s already put you through, he’s so blatantly blind when it comes to other people’s feelings. He must feel your energy or the fact that you keep glaring at him through the corner of your eye. So when he looks up and gives you a small smile, you reciprocate. You’ve learned your lesson on confronting people at work, and if you want to fly on this next mission, you’re gonna be on your best behavior.

You are nothing if not professional in the air. You’re paired up with Phoenix and Bob on your first hop of the day, and if you were an outsider you wouldn’t even know there was something else going on. The three of you successfully pull off each paired maneuver your dad assigned with perfect communication. The entire time you were focused on flying, but Bob’s deep voice through the comm system didn’t help. It was extremely difficult to focus on what he was saying, not how he was saying it, but you did it anyway. 

When lunch comes around you walk into the mess hall and sigh. There are two options you’re weighing as you stand near the doorway, clutching your lunch bag in hand. Your “regular” seat sits empty next to Bob and Rooster is still sitting by himself in the corner. On one hand you could pretend everything was fine and sit next to Bob, or you could pretend you’re not mad at Rooster and sit next to him. Rolling your eyes they land back on Bob’s table where Phoenix is now sat across from him. Your hands sweat as you hold your lunch, eyeing the way Bob’s hands wipe the crumbs of chip dust off onto a napkin. Taking a breath, you allow yourself to be sad for a second.

Bob is quite literally the most perfect man you have ever met. He’s kind, thoughtful, and funny. Not to mention damn handsome and from your experience the best kisser. Your heart aches at the thought that he deserves to hear all this praise. He told you some of the nicest things anyone has ever said to you, and what did you do in return? When given the chance to tell him how you felt you reached for the logical side of your brain and refused to. In another life, you tell yourself. If you weren’t restricted by these stupid rules, if you had the courage to tell him how you felt. But here you still stand in the company of no one but yourself.

His head turns suddenly and you’re met with his eyes as he gives you the slightest smile. An invitation to take a seat at his side. But you swallow and tear your eyes away. They land on Rooster instead who is already looking at you, then at Bob. It’s too much as you breathe and choose the secret third option. Turning on your heel, you head toward your dad’s office.

Knocking on the cracked door before entering, your dad welcomes you with a surprised smile. His brow furrows slightly as you take a seat across from him at his desk, but he doesn’t say anything as you start to eat with him. Even just asking him how his day is going, you catch the smile on his face as he looks across to you, and then back down to his desk. You can’t see what he’s looking at, but whatever it is keeps him content until his phone rings.

He quickly apologizes like you were in the middle of a very important business meeting before answering with a, “Hey honey”. And you know it’s Penny on the other end. Smiling, he holds up a finger, telling you he’ll be back in a minute as you watch him leave his office. You turn back to his desk and only see the backs of what look to be a few picture frames littering the top. Funny. You don’t think you saw these when you helped him move his stuff in here a couple months ago. That being said, you haven’t been in here very often.

Turning back to the door, your dad’s voice faintly echoes down the hall with a laugh, and knowing you have a few minutes, you take a seat in his chair. Your eyes roam over his desk, his aviators sit in front of a Navy mug.There’s a few small models of previous jets he’s flown, you take note of the F-14 Tomcat, sitting right in front of a picture of him and Goose. Smiling at the frame of your and Bradley’s dads, your eyes trace to the others. A more recent picture of you at your Top Gun graduation, Iceman and your father flanking your sides as you triumphantly hold the trophy sits next to one of 7-year old you with Bradley at his piano recital. He was a lot better than you gave him credit for that day, and now you know all that hard work paid off. He can practically play any song you ask him to, and he makes use of that talent whenever he can at the Hard Deck. Penny even joked she should put a tip jar out for him.

There’s another picture of the two of them someone must have taken on the carrier right after their triumphant return during the Uranium Mission. Everyone is cheering in the background, and you even have a smile on your face. But you don’t remember feeling happy. You were relieved, of course. But it still doesn’t erase the hour of agony thinking they were dead. You move on to the next picture of yourself in a dirtied softball uniform, clinging on to Bradley’s back like a monkey as he walks you to the car after a long summer tournament. Your feet hurt so bad Bradley had offered to give you a piggy-back ride if you shared your popsicle with him. The red juices melted down your arm and onto his shirt, but he didn’t complain once.

The last picture is of Goose, Carole, and a tiny Bradley. You smile fondly as you pick up the frame and watch their smiling faces. Your dad told you once that it was one of the last pictures of them all together. God, Bradley looks so much like his dad. Your finger absentmindedly traces where Carole stands, and stops at the silver chain around her neck. A small butterfly pendant sits between her collarbones and a wave of guilt washes over you.

You weren’t brave like you promised her. At least you thought you weren’t. You held on to that necklace for the few years that you had it, but ultimately when Carole got sick, you couldn’t bear it anymore. She slept a lot toward the end, the medication making her tired. One night, you crept into her bathroom and put the necklace back in her jewelry box hoping she wouldn’t notice, or wouldn’t say anything to you. She never brought it up, so you assumed it was one of the two. But looking at it now you wish you would have kept it. Kept that little piece of her she so generously gave to you. Maybe that little reminder would have made it easier to keep going after her and Bradley left.

Placing the frame back in its place, you chew your lip. You grab your phone and before you can decide not to, you press the call button. It rings a couple times before someone answers in a cheery voice.

“Avila Clinic, how can I help you?”

“Hi, I’d like to make an appointment.”

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

Bob sits in silence the entire rest of lunch. He thought maybe you two would be civil toward each other. He also thought that last night meant you cared about him, but right now it doesn’t feel that way. The initial sting of you not sitting next to him today is gone. He gets it. But the fact that you didn’t even acknowledge him when he smiled at you? That hurt.

He’s so conflicted as he walks back to the classroom. Maybe you have your own things going on and this isn’t about him. But how could it not be? You two talked last night. You kissed for crying out loud. You asked him to and pulled him against you. God, he literally begged you to kiss him again and now he’s feeling embarrassed. Something he thought you would never make him feel. What hurts most of all is how he misses just being around you. As much as he loved kissing you, he loved being your friend. Listening to you talk, learning about your life. Everything was so easy. You never even had to try to make him like you, it was as simple as breathing.

He decides he can’t take any of this personally. Easier said than done, though. 

You don’t look in his direction the rest of the day. He doesn’t have eyes in the back of his head, but if you were looking at him he’s pretty positive he would have felt it. In fact, you’re pretty quiet, too. He’s hardly paying attention as Mav goes over everyone’s flights, but perks up when he mentions your name.

“Alright, Phoenix, Bob, and Mantis.” Your flights are brought up on the screen as well as what maneuvers you were practicing together. “Or as I like to call you guys; The Dream Team.” Phoenix breathes out a laugh to his left as Mav continues to praise you for your team work. Kind of ironic that you work so well as a team together even though he feels like he’s had not only his body, but his head in the clouds all day.

“So you three, give yourselves a pat on the back. Great job.” Phoenix turns to him first to give him a fist bump, then turns over to you. He turns with her and finally catches your eye as your smirk falters. He watches you clench your fist before offering it toward him, and with a forced smile his knuckles tap your own. There was no celebration to be had when all it does is create more awkward tension between the two of you. He used to relish in these little moments the two of you shared, but now knowing that you want absolutely nothing to do with him it only serves as a reminder for what he lost.

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

You’re quiet again as you head home with your dad. Guilt is eating you alive at the way Bob smiled at you today. It’s not real anymore. Nothing about it is genuine, and why would it be? You continue to create situations in which someone’s heart is going to get broken, and it always ends up being your own. This time there’s another casualty and you can’t stand it being Bob. He deserves so much more than that.

Your father is humming along to the radio while you stare out the window when your phone buzzes. AVILA CLINIC flashes on your screen and you’re quick to answer.

“Hello?”

“Hi, this is Tiffany from the Avila Clinic, am I speaking to Miss Mitchell?” The same cheery woman from earlier asks.

“Yes, this is she.”

“Hi Miss Mitchell. We spoke earlier about setting up an appointment a couple weeks from now on the fourth of October, but your therapist Mary had a sudden cancellation for tomorrow. I know you said you wanted to get in as soon as possible, does tomorrow at 4:00 pm Pacific Time work for you?”

“Yes”, you’re quick to agree, “Yes, that absolutely works for me.”

“Perfect. We’ll email you a Zoom link thirty minutes before your appointment.”

“Sounds great, thank you so much.” Hanging up the phone, your dad clears his throat, expectantly waiting for an explanation as to who that was.

“I have a zoom meeting at 4:00 tomorrow.” His brow raises as he urges you to continue. “It’s a therapy appointment-”, you try to ignore the way both his brows raise at the admission, “And it’s at the house, so I would really appreciate it if, ya know….”

“I get it, I get it”, he waves you off, “I’ll make myself scarce.” A weight is lifted from your chest as he continues driving. You know how men of his generation view therapy, but he himself has benefited from those services over the course of his life. In your own opinion you think he could benefit from some more, but, you really don’t think he’ll go for it unless he’s doing it for someone else.

“Thanks, dad.”

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

You didn’t expect it. You thought you were safe. Especially after last night of nothing, you went to bed naively thinking you could have a peaceful night’s sleep. Awaking with a choked gasp, you reach for your throat begging it to open up. Breath after breath gets a little easier, until the tears start and you just can’t stop. The dark does little to ease your racing mind.

It started normally, just a hazy dream of you walking down the street back in Ohio, stopping at a storefront and staring in the window. Your reflection is what set you off. It was you at first, you were able to identify little features that were your own, but then- It turned into her completely. You ran as fast as your feet would let you, but the only destination was your old house. Still, you tried to get as far away from her as possible, you couldn’t see her, but you could feel her not far behind you. Running up the stairs, you booked it to your room and slammed the door shut, holding your body against it so she couldn’t get in. She banged and screamed as hard and as loud as she could until it finally… stopped. It was silent as tears streamed down your face. Giving you a false sense of security, you stepped away from the door.

Holding your breath, you made it three steps away before the door flung itself open. You were already walking backwards when she pushed you into the wall, and head first you hit it. You must have started choking on your own tears in real time, and you imagine the lack of air is what caused you to wake up.

Even as you sit up in bed now, the thought that it was only a dream does nothing to reassure you. The room is too hot, and instead of making the same mistake of running to your bathroom, you tiptoe down the hall so as to not alert your father, and sit on the back porch. The cool September breeze blows over your sweat slicken skin as you breathe in… and out. In… and out. You’re still sobbing as quietly as you can, and you know it was a dream. Just a dream- this time.

You don’t tell your dad exactly what happened, but he knows. He was surprised to see you outside when he got up this morning, but you just told him you couldn’t get back to sleep so you sat out to see the sunrise. It was when he tried resting his hand on your shoulder and you flinched away that he knew you left some details out. Without him having to say a word, he gave you a look and you reassured him you were fine. You knew you weren’t, really. But the only thing keeping you going was the idea of getting up in the air, and the fact that you had therapy later today.

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

For the first time in a very long time, Bob wasn’t looking forward to going to work this morning. He felt like a kid dreading going to school again. But, he forced himself anyway, and now as he walks the halls, he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to face another day where you completely ignore him. This isn’t the best way to deal with… whatever happened between you two, you must know that. Right? In the end no matter what you told him he was still going to be your friend, but you’re giving him the idea that you don’t want that.

He’s surprised to find you already in the classroom, your pen tapping at the sheet of maneuvers in front of you. No one else is there but the two of you, and he takes a minute to breathe in the silence that settles. Your mouth is twisted, you keep switching from chewing one side of your lip to the other. Your brow is furrowed to the point that there’s a sharp knot in your forehead. Whatever you’re looking at can’t possibly be that perplexing. You could fly each of these tasks with your eyes closed, and yet you look deep in thought. He opens his mouth to say something, taking a step forward at the same time, but a hand claps down on his shoulder as he does.

“Morning, Bob, Mantis”, Phoenix greets the two of you. You hum in acknowledgement but your eyes never leave your paper. Bob watches as she taps your knee with her hand. You quite literally jump at the movement, dropping your pen in the process as it rolls under his seat. “Hey, you ok there?”

“Yeah, sorry”, you rush out as your hand trembles. Bob can hear Phoenix ask if you’re sure, while he kneels on the floor to retrieve your pen. When he gets up, he’s still on his knees holding your pen out to you. Your hollow eyes look back at him as the two of you freeze, sharing a moment that feels stuck in time. A shaky hand extends to grab your pen from him, and it takes everything in him not to reach further and squeeze your hand. Letting you know he’s there.

“Thank you”, you practically whisper.

“Any time”, he responds just as softly. The rest of the squad enters the room as you tear your eyes away from his and look back to your papers. He watches as you continue what you were working on when he entered, but instead of your pen, your foot taps the floor.

You walk away too quickly once Maverick assigns you to the first flight of the day, but Bob knows something’s wrong. So he waits until it’s his and Phoenix’s turn, hoping to catch you out on the tarmac as you land, but you’re still in your cockpit as they walk past. He slows, feigning a loose shoelace as he urges Phoenix to keep going.

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

Your flight had done well to get your mind off of last night, but it’s still with a deep breath that you grip the ladder as you descend. Helmet in hand, you turn to make your way back inside and grab a needed drink of water.

“Mantis?” Bob's gentle voice has you looking up at him.

“Hi- Bob”, you respond, a little taken aback he was waiting for you. He keeps his distance as Fritz and Hangman walk past the two of you.

“Are you- are you doing ok?”

“Yeah”, you clear your throat, “I’m doing ok.” It feels like his sapphire eyes can see right through you as you shift on your feet. You can lie all you want, but you know he can tell. It’s his turn to shift on his feet as he blinks rapidly before realizing what he needs to say.

“I know it might be hard, but you can still talk-”

“Bob!”, Phoenix yells from her ladder, “It’s go time!” Lost in his train of thought, He struggles to find the words as he clenches his helmet in his hand.

“Bob, I’m ok.” He’s hesitant as Phoenix yells his name again, pointing at her watch this time.

“If you say so”, he nods as you stare at your feet. With one last look at your shifting eyes, he jogs over to Phoenix who is beginning to grow even more impatient. You watch him climb into his seat before trudging back to the hangar where Rooster waits at the door.

“Don’t say anything.”

“Wasn’t gonna.” You roll your eyes as he walks behind you. He still doesn’t know that you know about his little date Wednesday night. You continue to bite your tongue as you sit across from him in the ready-room.

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

After another lunch-date with your dad in his office, you do your best to avoid both Rooster and Bob. And thank goodness all of you are being let out early today, or you wouldn’t be able to sit through another hour of going over everyone else’s flights.

“Alright, that’s everything I have for today. Depending on weather conditions on Monday, we may not have you come in, but I’ll keep you posted. Stay safe this weekend everyone.” Checking your watch, it reads 3:00, only an hour before your session which leaves you a little anxious. But after last night you are more than ready to get the help you need.

You’re out of the class room before everybody else, and soon enough gathering your stuff from your locker. Phoenix stops you before you can get out the door and to your dad’s office to wait for him.

“Hey! Floyd was looking for you.” You try your best to not look surprised at the notion, but you can feel your face contort in confusion.

“Oh, is he-”, you motion to the door of the locker room, asking if he’s waiting for you outside.

“No, he had to go. But”, reaching into her pocket, she grabs something and holds it out for you, “He did tell me to give you this.” And in between her fingers, Phoenix holds a penny. The sight of an object so abundantly common as a coin has you holding your breath. You have seen so many pennies throughout your life, but who this one came from means so much more to you than any other has. Swallowing, you reach out and gingerly take it from her hands, as if it would break if you dropped it. Strangely, you can feel your face heat up at the notion. That’s what he was trying to tell you earlier. He’s still ready and willing to listen if you need to talk.

 “Is this some kind of weird inside joke between the two of you or did he really just owe you one cent?” You grip the copper coin as if it were his own hand reaching out to you, and place it in your pocket.

“No”, you laugh, “it’s just something Bob does.” Her brow raises as she stares at you with a weary eye. Obviously not understanding what’s so funny about it.

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

As if you couldn’t be more anxious for this zoom, your dad was held up by both Cyclone and Warlock when you got to his office. There’s only 20 minutes before your meeting when you get home, so unlike what you had planned you can’t take a shower beforehand. Still needing to change out of your flight suit, you put on a random shirt and jeans that were lying around your cluttered room. You glance at your own watch, 3:55. Before you forget, you run downstairs to find your dad putting his tennis shoes on.

“Hey”, you grab his attention as he looks up from the couch, “I just thought I’d let you know my meeting’s about to start in like five minutes so…”

“Don’t even worry about me”, he reassures you, “I’ll be outside doing yard work the entire time. Might as well do it now before I can’t do it this weekend.” Smiling, he gets up with his sneakers on and gives you a wink before shutting the front door behind him.

Popping your earbuds in, you open your laptop. Your palms are sweating as you click on the link in your email. A blank screen pops up with a small wheel telling you it’s loading, and then you see her. Mary. Your first and only therapist. The first person you ever told your deep dark secrets to. Bob being the second and only other. She speaks your name softly as you smile at the warmness in her tone. It takes you back to when you were only a student, having no idea how to traverse the world without the proper support.

“It’s good to see you”, her honey voice greets you.

“It’s good to see you, too”, you nod. You notice that even through the camera, she’s letting her gray hair take over what was mostly a thick and lucious black when you first met her. There’s a few more crinkles around her eyes that you find when she smiles at you, but it’s still like greeting an old friend.

“So how’s it going, how have you been?”

“Um”, you laugh awkwardly, “Things could be better.”

“Ok, why don’t you go ahead and tell me why you reached out.” Breathing out a shaky breath you start talking. You tell her about the dreams returning, the panic attacks, how you didn’t know where you were when you were gone for hours. She takes diligent notes the entire time, nodding and assuring you she’s listening.

“So let me ask you a question; do you know what triggered these nightmares? Did something happen?” You think back to the night you kissed Bob and before you can even get butterflies, the image of your mother in your dream pops the bubble. Taking a leap of faith and a deep breath all in the same beat, you turn back to the camera.

“This is all in confidence, right?” She sighs your name before answering.

“You know it is. Unless what you did put other people or yourself in harm’s way then we are fine to discuss it without me telling anyone.” Taking out one earbud, you can still hear your dad with the lawnmower, so you continue.

“I kissed someone. Twice. It was after the first time that I had a nightmare.”

“I’m not seeing the problem here.”

“He’s on my squadron. And there is a pretty strict no fraternization rule.”

“Oh, I see.”

“Yeah. So I broke a rule, made him break a rule. And I guess I just feel so guilty about it. And I did something wrong, which is why I had the dream.”

“And you had the second dream after the second kiss?”

“Not the night of. I didn’t get a lot of sleep because I was scared of it happening again. But last night was the second one. It was…terrifying. I didn’t think they were gonna come back. And I just blew up on everyone the first time around. My dad, Bradley-”

“Wait, Bradley as in, the Bradley that you grew up with?”

“That’s the one.”

“And you just see him regularly now? I mean I was looking through all your old notes and you were still pretty upset with him. Does time really heal all wounds?” You chuckle at her sarcasm.

“No, not really. It was awkward at first. But I hardly talked to him while we were working on the special detachment. After it was over, it looked like he made up with my dad, and we were made a permanent squadron. That’s when it started going downhill. Long story short, we were just kind of bickering, not really talking about the elephant in the room. He ended up saying something, I had a panic attack, then I punched him, then he started-”

“Wait, wait, wait- You punched him? I am going to need the long version of the story here. We don’t do short stories in therapy.” So you explain. Everything. How your little comments started to quickly cut deeper, how he told you to be careful before your drinking contest, and all the little warnings after the fact. And then the devastating moment where he betrayed your trust completely, leading to Bob comforting you at one of your lowest moments. And then of course, when you punched him, and how he’s been trying to get on your good side ever since, how he claims he thought you were calling to brag. As if he didn’t know what your mother was like.

“Wow. That’s a lot.” You nod in agreement. “How has it been with him since?”

“It’s so weird. He’s tried to do a complete 180, and claims he’s watching out for me. He was actually at the party, the one where I kissed- um…”

“You don’t have to say his name, it’s ok.”

“My teammate”, you find the courage to finish.

“This is a lot to process in such a short amount of time. How have you been handling it?” You scoff at just how many times you’ve had panic attacks and cried within the last month.

“Not well. Which is why I thought I should reach out.”

“I’m glad you did. I wish that therapy was a one and done kind of situation, but it’s going to take some time. Are you ready for that kind of commitment again? I know it got busy last time, and with deployments it was hard. But are you ready to put in the work?” You sigh and silently nod your head, biting your lip to avoid speaking with a frog in your throat.

“Well I hate to say this, but I think your dreams may be happening for a different reason than they did way back when they first started.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you came to me such a short time after the abuse stopped.” You try not to flinch at the word, but instinctively shut your eyes when she says it. “ When you stopped seeing her you were scared she was going to come back and find you. Now, I think your brain is reliving some memories to punish yourself. Because you feel guilty. And the fact that you see parts of her in you is making you resent yourself even more. Making you push people away before they can do the same to you.” Huh, you think.

“Does that resonate with you at all?” You laugh because it’s the only thing you can do at the moment. She hit the damn nail on the head.

“Yeah. Yeah it does.”

“Next time if you have a dream, here’s what I want you to do: I want you to find at least five things about yourself that are completely different from your mom. It can be little things in the way you look, the way you act, or anything. Because you are different. You aren’t her.” Your eyes sting at the influx of tears, and you lean your head back to stop them from falling.

“Ok, I know this was a pretty heavy session, so I want to end it on a higher note. I would like you to tell me at least three people in your life right now that make you feel loved, special, or wanted.” You shake your head, physically trying to put your mentality in a different spot than where it was at with your mother. Reaching for a tissue, you dab the straggling tears that threaten to fall.

“Um- ok. My dad, my friend Natasha”, you list out, still thinking about a third person. You can’t help that the third person your mind is pushing you to say is also the one person you’ve been trying to avoid thinking about. But it’s true. He makes you feel special and so wanted it’s kind of overwhelming, “And my friend Bob.”

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

With a deep breath you close your laptop and take out your ear buds. Your room feels stuffy all of a sudden, like all your thoughts and feelings are trapped into the sealed box. You stride across the room to open your window, and you hear your dad talking to someone. Then the snap of what you only know as a baseball hitting a glove echoes across the house. Unfortunately for your snoopy personality right now, your window faces the side of the neighbors, so you descend the stairs and look through the window in the living room.

The weather is surprisingly warm and sunny for a day before a storm. Perfect weather for spending outside you suppose. Your dad stands at one end of the yard, throwing the ball as you follow the line to the glove worn by, of course, Rooster. All of these old feelings came to life when you had to talk about him and everything else that has been happening for the past hour. When thinking about everyone who makes you feel loved, special, and wanted, Rooster did not make the cut. In fact, he has made you feel unwanted, unloved, and unimportant for the past 10 years. He threw you away like you were nothing, and even if he did apologize, it doesn’t take away the hurt that he left you with. But here he is. Throwing a baseball around with your dad like he didn’t avoid him for the last 16 years.

You huff out a breath before opening the front door, and plastering on a fake smile. If you were going to talk to him now was as good a time as any. You kind of feel bad for him, he had no idea he was walking into when he came over today. 

“Hey dad”, you squint through the fading sun as the two men look your way.

“Oh hey kiddo! How was your… meeting?”

“It was good, very”, you turn and squint slightly more at Rooster who tosses the ball up and back into his hand, “enlightening.”

“That’s good. Rooster here just popped over with a box of some old things, and we found our baseball gloves.”

“I can see that. Mind if I have a go?” He tries not to look as surprised as he feels by your request, but starts taking off his glove as you walk over to him.

“Sure.” You take the warm leather glove, slipping it onto your hand as you adjust to the feeling. Slapping the worn palm, you flap it a couple times in Rooster’s direction as he tosses it at you. Not throws. Tosses. Catching it in your bare hand, you raise your brow at him.

“Really?”

“What?”

“You act like we weren’t taught to throw a ball by the same person”, you note as you hook your thumb to your dad standing just to the side. “Throw it like you mean it.” Rolling the ball a couple times in your hand, you grip it and throw the fading white ball straight at Bradley’s chest. He manages to catch it with little time to spare, obviously underestimating just how hard you can throw. He glances over to your dad with wide eyes as he shrugs back with a smile. A hint of pride in his features. Rooster looks back at you while you open and close your glove a couple times.

“You sure you can handle it?” You roll your eyes at his assumption. Either he thinks too highly of his throwing ability, or way too low of your ability to catch a damn ball.

“Yes. I’ve handled a lot worse that you’ve thrown my way, so-”, you flap the glove once more, “try me.”

Rooster winces at the insinuation. But he gives up holding back, not all the way quite yet, but he throws it back with some of the power he was using with your dad. You continue throwing and catching the ball as your dad watches on with a warm smile.

“Alright”, he comments, “Looks like you two are doing fine, so I’m gonna go finish mowing the lawn.” He heads through the gate to the backyard as Rooster gets finished catching your last throw to him. Rooster takes the ball into his hand to throw back, but hesitates before putting it back in his glove.

“Are you ok?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know”, he responds as if pondering the question himself, “You’ve just got this look in your eye.” He winds up, and you catch the ball as he throws it at your chest. Mirroring his earlier action, you roll the ball around in your palm as you contemplate your next move.

“I’ve always got that look in my eye. If I don’t have it, that means something’s wrong.” You throw it back the tiniest bit harder, but Rooster does well to mask his surprise at the force. He’s still got that hint of suspicion on his face, but otherwise ignores it and is about to throw the ball back before you speak up.

“Oh, there is one thing”, you laugh without any real humor, “How was your date with Emily?” The ball slips from his hand as he attempts to throw it at you, causing it to fly up in the air before landing and rolling to your feet. His mouth opens and closes before he finally decides to say something as you raise an eyebrow at him.

“It was- it was- Where’d you hear about that?” Stepping forward, you pick up the ball.

“For an old man who means well, my dad can’t keep a secret to save his life.”

“I-”, he stands with his hands on his hips, confusion written on his face. There is no way you were supposed to know about this, and now he’s been caught. It feels good for a fraction of a second. “It wasn’t a secret.” He says as he kicks the grass. He reminds you of that little boy you once knew, getting in trouble and trying to hide his guilt. But before you stands the grown man who still can’t handle the consequences of his own actions.

“I just can’t believe you Rooster.” You throw the ball back to him as he looks up. Hard. It pushes the glove back into his chest and his lips twist into a grimace.

“For what? Going on a date?”, his voice raises the slightest bit as he throws it back to you. Just as hard. The only difference being you were ready for it.

“Not for that you idiot. For going on a date with her!”.

“What’s wrong with her?” Without meaning to, your jaw drops as you look around the street of your neighborhood. Your dad’s lawnmower is still going in the backyard as you turn to him.

“Are you kidding me? Rooster, it was your idea to set her up with Bob, and after she laughed in his face you decided to stick your tongue down her throat in the middle of the party and then what? Ask her out?”

“Ok, she kissed me. And it obviously wasn’t going to work out between the two of them! Why are you so upset about this?”

“Because even if she supposedly didn’t know she was being set up with Bob, you did! I mean, what the hell kind of wingman are you? But you know what?”, you decide as you throw the ball back to him, closer to his face this time, “You two assholes deserve each other.” The ball lands in his glove as he’s quick to catch it just below his chin.

“Whoa. Hold on. You’re kind of being an asshole right now.”

“Are not”, you huff.

“Are too”, he mimics.

“How am I the one being an asshole for trying to defend my friends?”

“Uh-un. Friend. Singular. And you’re being a little too defensive for someone you claim is just your friend.” You swallow, glancing to the gate leading to the backyard, the hum from the lawnmower still going. There’s not a chance he could have heard what he said, but you’re still paranoid nonetheless. Rooster’s winding up as you look back at him, giving you barely enough time to catch the ball right in front of your face. You’d be lying if you said your hand didn’t sting from the force of his throw.

“Keep your voice down”, you grit in his direction. He just shakes his head.

“So I’m right then”, he scoffs. “You just don’t learn, do you?” You snap back to him as his lip lifts. As if he knows something more than you. He couldn’t be more condescending if he tried.

“Learn what?”, you snap, “Don’t act like you’re not doing this for any other reason than to rid yourself of whatever guilt you have left.” You grunt, throwing the ball as hard as you can as he catches it with ease. Almost as if you’re playing catcher, he plays his part as pitcher beautifully, winding up even more than before, throwing the ball back to you almost immediately. The ball snaps in the glove you hold up in front of your face.

“That guilt will live with me for the rest of my life.” The draw of his brows beneath the beating sun tells you he’s angry. Maybe not with you, but it’s still anger either way, and it has to be let out somehow. “So if I can stop you from making a mistake, keep you from breaking your heart even more than I have, I will do whatever it takes.” Oh you’re angry now. You throw the ball with everything you have back at him. You are not some dumb kid like he was when he left. You’ve been through enough to have grown up younger than you should have.

“If you really cared about how I felt- or how anybody other than yourself felt that for that matter, you wouldn’t set someone up with a woman who is so obviously wrong for him. And then”, you laugh, “after she’s embarrassed him you wouldn’t kiss her in front of him and go on a damn date with her!” He only shakes his head at the ground before gripping the baseball in his right hand, rolling it around.

“I set him up to try and stop you from making a mistake. I was doing it to protect you!” The sound of a dog barking has you whipping your head to the street to your left. It sounds almost identical to Sylvia but you can’t seem to find the source of the noise. Your heart beats a little faster at the thought of him taking her for a walk nearby. That would be such god-awful timing. The thought of him possibly walking Sylvia down your street has you too rattled, and you’re slightly disappointed with yourself.

The searing pain hits you before the ball even falls to the ground, as you do with it.

“Jesus Christ!”, you scream as you fall to your back, cradling the side of your face the baseball hit.

“Oh shit! Oh my god- are you ok?”, Rooster appears on his knees right next to you, brown eyes wide as you’ve ever seen them as he grimaces along with you. The glove is just big enough for you to be able to throw it off of your hand, hitting him in the chest as you writhe on the freshly cut grass. You can’t help it as the hot tears slide out of your eyes, the pain too much.

“Hey, hey you’re fine! Don’t cry, please don’t cry!”, he pleads as you try to open your eyes long enough to glare at him.

“You hit me in the face with a fucking baseball of course I’m going to fucking cry!”, you scream. “You IDIOT!”

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I thought you were looking!” You glare at him through your uncovered eye as his hands hover over you. “Ok, are you bleeding? Lemme see.” You glare as hard as you can at him as he backs away. The pulse emanating from the side of your face is stopping you from feeling anything else, but you’re pretty sure that liquid sliding down your face are just stray tears that refuse to stay put.

“Ok, that’s fine. Um-”, he panics as you beg yourself to stop crying in front of him. “Alright, I’m gonna go get some ice, stay right here.” And before you have the mind to make a smart comment about going anywhere, your hands reach out and wrap around his ankle. The unexpected movement causes his weight to shift forward, giving him no time to brace himself as he falls to the ground. It doesn’t relieve any pain, but it feels good to watch him face plant onto the grass. There was still so much to say, too much you feel as though you can’t even get out your feelings through your words.

“Hey, what the hell?!”, he turns over as you grab your discarded glove.

“You were protecting me?!”. He does his best to dodge your blows, but it’s no use as he puts his hands up to protect himself and his stupid face. With the glove in both your hands, you whack at his torso. “I have been taking care of myself since I was 12!”, you grunt as you continue to hit him. “I am a grown woman! I don’t need to be lectured by anybody, especially not you!”

“I’m sorry, just stop!”, it’s obviously more of a nuisance than actually hurting him, but you are in so much pain right now you just want to get him back anyway you can. He attempts to crawl away on his back, but you stop him by sitting on his stomach, causing him to grunt at the unexpected weight.

“HEY!”, you pause at the sound of your dad’s voice, arms lifted in the air mid-blow. Rooster is still covering his face with his arms as he turns to look at your dad. “What is going on?!” Your arms are still in the air as the two of you look at each other before attempting to speak over one another.

“He started it!” “It was an accident!”, you yell at the same time. The sound of his voice has you looking down at the audacity of the man you are currently pinning to the grass.

“Why would you throw a ball at someone who isn’t looking?!”

“I thought you were!”, he’s quick to defend himself. You catch his gaze soften as his eyes shift to the right side of your face where he hit you with the ball.

“Inside, now!”, he orders as you and Rooster scramble to your feet. He walks ahead of you as your dad trails behind you. “Good afternoon Mrs. Callahan!” You turn to find your neighbor walking her goldendoodle just across the street, eyeing the state of all three of you that your dad doesn’t try to hide. One of the biggest differences between your parents. Your mother would have walked you delicately into the house pretending everything was under control and just fine. Until she closed the door. Your dad on the other hand, he knows things aren’t under his control and he doesn’t try to hide it. He’s not trying to keep up some image. It’s easy when you don’t care what other people think.

The dog barks once more before your dad ushers you inside.

He urges the two of you to sit on the couch as he runs to grab the first-aid kid, and you take one side begrudgingly as Rooster takes the other. Your face is starting to throb, but once you look down at your jeans you notice the grass and dirt stains on not only your knees, but your hands as well. You’re sure the back of them look the same, as do Rooster’s clothes.

Your dad sits on the coffee table before you, leaning forward as his hand gently moves your face so he can examine it. He tuts as you’re forced to look over at Rooster, who as you expected, is covered in grass stains as he twiddles with his thumbs. You can’t help but wonder why he’s still listening to your dad, it’s not like when you were younger and he was left in charge of the two of you. He can leave if he wants to.

“Well”, your dad starts as he reaches for the gauze, “It’s not bleeding too bad…” Huh, so you guess some of that liquid was blood. “Probably from the stitching”, he talks to himself as you wince from the pressure he’s applying.

“It’s gonna leave a nice bruise, though”, Wordlessly you push his hand away and apply the pressure yourself as he eyes you once before looking at the man on the other end of the couch.

“You ok Rooster?”

“‘M fine”, he mumbles back.

“Good”, he says as he rounds the coffee table. “Cause what the hell is going on? Huh? I left for two minutes!” He takes one hand off of his hips to point at the two of you, ready to go into a rant before his phone rings from where he left it in the kitchen. Glancing between the pair of you and back to the kitchen he slides a dirty hand down his face.

“Wait right here”, he demands pointing at the two of you before locating the source of the ringing. The only thing you can hear is the muffled sound of your dad talking on the phone, and the slight shift of Rooster on the other end of the couch.

“I’m really sorry-”

“Just-”, you cut Rooster off, “shut up.” He’s quiet for a second. Just a second. Before he decides he’s not going to listen to you.

“I got a concussion from getting hit in the head with a ball”, he comments as you roll your eyes. As if you could have forgotten. “Mom took me to the ER just in case, and as per usual, she was right.”

“I know, Rooster”, you interrupt him. “I was there. It was the summer you were on that comp baseball team.”

“I know you were. I just wanna remind you in case you feel like brushing this one off.”

“I’m not-”, you scoff, “What makes you think I’m gonna ‘brush this one off’?” He shrugs and scratches the back of his neck.

“I just remember you always saying when you got hurt that it wasn’t a big deal. Concussions are kind of a big deal.”

“I know- I’ve had one.” His brow furrows as he turns to face you, concern written into the creases in his forehead.

“Wait- when did you have one?” Your face turns hot as you realize you’ve revealed more than you would have liked to.

“I don’t know”, you shrug as you try to avoid his gaze, ”I was like 14.”

“Well what happened?” Taking away the gauze from your face, there’s a small line of blood, but nothing else. You trade it out for the icepack on the table and gently press it to where you’re hurting.

“I fell into a wall”, you tell him as you focus on the sting it brings to your cheek.

“You just fell into a wall?”

“Yeah- I tripped over something in my room.” It’s quiet for a moment as he mulls over what he’s about to say.

“Did you fall or were you pushed?” The color drains from your face as you clench your jaw. How dare he? You turn to face him, dropping both hands into your lap so he has to look at your entire face. Look at what he did.

“No. You don’t get to do this. You don’t just get to pick and choose when you’re loyal or protective. You left, Rooster. You knew what was going on and you still decided to leave. So whatever happened after I didn’t see you for 16 years, you don’t deserve to know.” He’s quiet as his eyes soften at you.

“And as for Bob-”, you clear your throat, “He’s my friend. And I will defend any of my friends. That included you at one point. I did in fact. I defended you when Hangman made his stupid comments, but now you’re the one who keeps running his mouth, and- and hanging around people who think it’s fine to be so blatantly rude. So you know what, Emily might just be perfect for you.” His mouth opens and closes before he thinks better than to say anything.

“As far as I’m concerned, you don’t owe me anything and I don’t want anything from you. So stop thinking you’re protecting me when all you do is keep reminding me of everything I have lost and can’t have.” He’s actually quiet now, you think you  have stunned him into a complete silence. This may just be the time for him to listen, so you’re gonna say what you’ve been wanting to say for a long time.

“When your mom died- I wasn’t just grieving for her. I-“, your throat starts to close up but you push through it anyway, “you left. You left and I never heard from you again and I had to grieve for someone who wasn’t even dead. He chose to leave and never come back. And I know that you were hurting, but so was I.” He clears his throat as you listen to your dad finishing up his conversation. The ice pack crinkles as you press it against your face once more. It really does fucking hurt. “So please, just once, think of how your actions affect anybody else but yourself.”

He doesn’t bother saying anything else. What else is there to say? A sorry won’t even make a difference anymore. He’s said it too many times for the words to have meaning when they leave his lips. You watch his adam's apple bob before deciding you don’t want to look at him even more. The only thing you can hear is the faint sound of your dad from the kitchen, tying up the end of his phone call. Then you’re almost sure you can hear Bradley sniffle before he abruptly stands, staring at his hands.

“I’m gonna go. There are a couple things for you in that box”, he motions to the cardboard rectangle sitting on the coffee table. He clears his throat and scratches the back of his neck. “If you keep getting headaches that won’t go away- just please go get checked out. I uh-”, this is the first time in a long time you’ve seen him so nervous he can’t find his words. One of the last times was speaking at Carole’s funeral, and your eyes can’t help but tear up at the parallel. “Mantis- I don’t want to hurt you. But I know I already did, so I’ll leave you alone. I’m sorry”, he whispers his apology before heading to the front door. Your dad is walking in just as he leaves.

“Where’s Rooster?”

“He had to go”, you say with a clogged throat. He stands with his hands on his hips, perplexed at the entire situation.

“Well- do I need to talk to him?”

“No”, the words fall from your lips, “It’s fine.” He catches the far-off look in your eyes as you stare at the cardboard box on the table.

“Hey”, he almost whispers to get your attention. You look up with unshed tears in your eyes. “Are you ok?” It hurts to swallow as you try your best not to break the barrier of crying.

“It just hurts”, you explain, not entirely sure what part you’re talking about. He opens his mouth to say something else, but you stand before you let him talk. “I’m gonna go lie down. I’ve had a long day.” With a skeptical eye he lets you go, but not before sending you with the ice pack and letting you know he’d be up to check on you.

Once your back is turned and you’ve made it up the last steps, the first of many tears fall without much trying. You turn the shower on instead of lying in bed, deciding to do something somewhat productive. And once out you try your best not to look in the mirror, but catch sight of your cheek. It’s already swollen, an undertone of purple creeping out from the tiny cut from the stitching of the ball.

After getting into bed you stare at the ceiling, letting the day sink in. You lie there for a moment, trying to quiet your thoughts in order to let you sleep, but they’re too loud. Turning over, you stare at your bedside table. A framed picture you keep of you and Carole sits next to your phone. You can almost hear her laugh through the glossy finish of the photo, but you see Bradley in her smile through and through. A tear slides across your face and lands on your pillow, darkening the fabric. And you let it happen. You let the next one happen, too. And then you don’t stop yourself from crying.

Letting the rest out, you fold your knees to your chest and allow yourself to cry. You cry for Carole, for how much you miss her and how much life she missed out on. And you cry for Bradley. Even if he did hurt you, you cry because you miss him, too. And you cry because you wish you were brave. You wish you had the courage to say something to someone when you were younger. And even now, you cry because you wish you had the strength to look Bob in the eye and say- anything. Get past your own fears of rejection and punishment, and let him know that you see him for what he is. A good person, who deserves everything and more. And you know someday he’ll find someone who is more than eager to give that to him. Even if you already are, it can't be you.

Taglist:

@lemmons1998

@itsmytimetoodream

@theamuz

@harrysgothicbitch

@mygyn

@luckyladycreator2

@marve2014

@wretchedmo

@callsignwidow

@finnydraws

@melsunshine

@jostan456

@okiegirl24

@beebeechaos

@eclecticfashionbookszipper

@hunbomb

@nerdgirljen

@knight-of-the-doctor

[buckybarnesandmarvel]

𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐔𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝

pairings: chris evans x vet!reader

warnings: a whole bunch of fluff

summary: an ordinary day at the shelter turns into something... unexpected

a/n: trust chris to get me out of writers block. also holy fuck that outfit has a fucking chokehold on me ithinkiforgothowtobreathelohmygod

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You weren't told about this. Well... you were told someone was coming in for a collaborative video linked to the dogs... but you definitely weren't expecting this.

Chris-fucking-Evans.

You watched as he walked in, his broad figure hugged by a too-tight shirt, a small chain peeking through the collar, his hair messy under his cap and his blue eyes sparkling through his glasses. A large grin adored his face as he clapped his hands excitedly. You couldn't help discretely looking him up and down and your thoughts took over, momentarily distracting you. You took a deep breath and walked into your treatment room.

You were the resident vet at the shelter, looking after all the dogs that were brought in. You loved your job, being able to hang out with the dogs all day, it was both fun and rewarding. You knew them all at this point and made it your habit to see all of them first thing in the morning and last thing at night.

You had actually adopted your pup, Buzz, from the shelter, a beautiful baby chocolate lab. To be fair, you would've gladly adopted them all if your landlord hadn't forbade you and you had enough money and space. Now you just brought him into work, letting him run around and socialise as you did your thing.

You were doing a checkup on a dalmatian that had been brought in the week before when the camera crew came in, Chris-fucking-Evans tailing along behind them with a large smile. You momentarily paused, your eyes widening slightly before you put on a smile and made more room. You introduced yourself and the dog, Coco and they asked you a couple questions then let you work, filming you doing the checkup. Chris stood to the side watching intently as you worked with the dalmatian, wearing the scrubs and gloves you had leant him. You were glad Coco was calm throughout the checkup, not getting spooked by the amount of people in the room.

You smiled as you deemed everything fine with her and stepped aside as Chris came forward to give her a treat. Your heart almost burst when you saw how soft he was with her, raising his voice a couple octaves higher as he pet her gently. Once your piece was over, the crew left as you got ready to take Coco back to her room. You clipped on the leash as you looked for anything you had maybe left, when you saw Chris standing by your equipment, a smile still on his face.

"Hi?"

"Uh hey! Hey. I'm Chris." He looked at you and stepped forward, extending his hand for a handshake. You took his hand in yours as you smiled shyly.

"Yeah, I know. It's really nice to meet you sir."

Chris gave out a breathy laugh as his cheeks became dusted with a slight pink.

"Please no need for that, just call me Chris."

"Okay... Chris. Was there anything you needed?"

"Nah, I just wanted to say that's it's great y'know... what you do for the dogs here."

Your cheeks heated at the compliment as you smiled wider.

"Thank you! But honestly, it's not much. I love what I do."

"Still, it's exceptional.... hey... i was wondering if you're free after this?"

You froze slightly as your eyes widened a fraction. Your jaw almost dropped as you took in the man in front of you. He couldn't possibly want to go out with you..? You mentally shook the thought off and heat rose to your cheeks as you realise you kept him waiting.

"Y-yep! I'm free."

"Great! What time do you get off?"

"7."

"I'll be waiting..."

He winked and walked out of the room, leaving you slightly flustered and confused, but it a good way. And you couldn't help thinking that was something... unexpected.

*********************************************************************** first time writing in a long time, guys. don't judge lol x

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tagging: @xioriae @chrisevansdaughter @newgirlintheneighborhood @boredum7865 @hulkstacos @dhoruwolfie @scorpiolystoned @smoothdogsgirl @bubblessunshinehoney @youralphawolf72 @littlebluestone @friskyfisher @hallecarey1 @nana1000night

[that-one-gay-aew-enthusiast]

FUCK IT

Imma just start writing for dan stevens characters because that man has a chokehold on me, if there are any characters that arent on his masterlist that you would like to see please tell me what they are from and I will watch it (Providing it isnt a tv show becasue i aint got the time or paitence for that) and please send in some requests i have had none so far and have hit a writers block so pls send help :)

Anyway thank you for reading,. your reward is pics of the pretty man.

[truetogaia]

i saw ur post about sub!jake, imma be waiting for that fic ‼️ ur literally writing has me a chokehold bae

I'm just gonna post it answering you bc I can hihihii I LVOE U

Pairing: Sub!Jake Sully x Fem!Reader

Genre: smut, 18+

Warnings: Blowjob, strong language, explicit and mature themes, like use of "Good boy" once, I don't see how thats a warning but YK

Synopsis: Jake is needy thats all

Notes: It's 2:40 am and I JUST finished it, please excuse any bad grammar, i'll edit and fix it tomorrow *SOB* It also lowkey sucks bc IM STILL SUFFERING FROM WRITERS BLOCK IT WONT GO AWAY!!

Word count: around 600!!

Jake’s breathy moans filled your ears as you skillfully planted sloppy kisses along his neck, occasionally letting your sharp fangs drag across his hot, tender skin. His form trembled slightly beneath you, your hand busy tracing gentle shapes up and down his shaft. He mewled when you carefully ran your thumb against his slit, his hips bucking into your hand. 

You cherished these moments, adored how obedient and submissive he was, how his ears flicked around intently, listening to every word that seeped from your mouth. But the one thing that made it so satisfactory for you, was that you were able to give him pleasure. The look on his face when he finally reached his climax was etched into the walls of your memories, and you were obsessed with it. 

“Please,” his voice was croaky from the hours you had spent teasing his poor, neglected cock, “stop teasn’.. can’t take it anymore y/n- hmnn” You smiled up at him, finally wrapping your warm hands around the base of his needy length. His mouth fell ajar as your smaller hands worked his precum along his shaft, choked moans escaping his throat with each stroke. 

You placed a light peck on his angry tip, increasing the speed of your hands, before finally taking it into your wet mouth. The sounds of you gagging on his big cock made Jake’s moans increase in volume, his hands finding a place to sit on top of your braids. You swirled your tongue around his bulbous tip, which earned a loud groan from your mate. You looked up at him through your heavy eyelashes, doe eyes sparkling with stinging tears from taking so much of him, and he swore he could cum right there.

“You’re s’good to me baby, mmm, so so good..” His hips lifted from the ground subconsciously, jerking his cock further into the warmth of your hot mouth. You felt his hands grip your hair tightly, and you braced yourself. Jake was so needy, so desperate for release that you finally decided to let him take control. He began pounding his thick length into your mouth, forcing you to deepthroat him. 

His tip abused the same spot in the back of your throat with each lustful thrust of his snapping hips, and you were sure it was going to leave a bruise. “Oh baby, yes, fuck- hnghhh.. your mouth is so good-” His heavy balls slapped against your chin with each buck, thrusts turning erratic as he fucked himself deeper down your sore throat. His orgasm was approaching rapidly and he could no longer control the noises and moans leaving his mouth. 

You held out for as long as you could, but considering you couldn’t get any air with the way your nose was basically buried in Jake’s abdomen, your vision was fading bit by bit. The feeling of Jake’s hot seed finally releasing itself into your welcoming mouth made you jump. When he was finished, he slowly pulled out of your mouth.

“Sorry, baby.. I got a bit carried away. I didn't hurt you, did I?.” His eyes carried a genuine, apologetic look, and a warm smile settled on your features. You placed a hand on his thigh, lifting yourself up to stand above him. 

“No, It’s okay, love. You were a good boy anyway.” He looked up at your figure with an admiring gaze, taking in all of your ethereal curves and shapes. And just like that, his cock was rock hard again.

RAHH ITS SO BAD ONCE AGAIN IM SORRY IDK WHATS GOING ON WITH MY WRITING MMMMM IM GONNA CRY and now im going to bed goodnight ♡

[deadlysansa]

July 2024

lovely LOVELY dedicated loyal readers.

i am continually astounded that my inbox still receives message of support and curiosity about my lil fanfic These Lines of Lightning. i can’t even begin to talk about the fact that a lot of you just drop messages to say you hope i am well. you are just wonderful. and i owe you an answer in that i am here, doing well, just living a very different and busy life!

i am pretty sure i started writing TLOL in 2019. my life and the world were in such different places. the same applies to you guys! we’ve all LIVEDDDD. but i LOVED writing the fic. i loved maybe even more how much excitement you guys had for it. the marauders will always be my roman empire.

truth is i am not sure how to continue writing it. i have tried MANY times. there are so so many drafts of the next chapter in existence. i did not want to write a crap, slap dash ending to this fic as that would betray my hours of work into making it something we all enjoyed. so i sort of let it float in the ether. unfinished, like all the classic jily fics really.

but BOO to that.

so what now? my real aim is to not leave TLOL in the fanfic graveyard. i feel that realistically i can write a maximum of three chapters to finish the story. i want to do it for you all. there are thousands of fantastic marauders fics out there but you still wanted to read mine.

i don’t know if anyone has recently read the end of last chapter (a cliffhanger, that was so cruel of me), but i am going to time jump a measly month into the future, going back and forth. this seems to be the only thing that will obliterate the chokehold writer’s block has on TLOL and get the damn job DONE.

if you are still here and care, i cannot thank you enough for the way you have encouraged my writing. let’s f-cking go! if anyone has any real highlight moments from the fic that they’d love a recall to, let me know!

endlessly in adoration of the ff community,

-Kitty x

[aeli-tan-art]

Just so you know I check your tumblr page so religiously now to see if you’ve answered new asks / posted new art, I’m addicted to this au. Completely. I have a slight love hate relationship with the iron clad hold you have on lore secrets because on one hand, the anticipation just keeps building and its got me in a chokehold, on the other hand I JUST WANNNA KNOOOOWWWWW.

That with the lore along with the fact the world building / lore / art are AMAZING every time and has me slamming my credit card on the table for more. The intro is one of my faves, the portraits have me barking, the lore has me gritting my teeth and UGH. I just love your work sm you’ve become one of my favorite GF artists ever.

Sorry to randomly dump this in your ask box, I just woke up and the first thing I did was check your Tumblr and just like Ronnie when he realized he’s done for when he wants to protect someone, I realized I was done for with this au. Captured my adhd brain completely. Much much much much love and wishing you motivation/time and warding off potential art/writers block!

this just absolutely makes my day! I've been in this hellsite for years and years, been in a lot of fandoms but I've never had this much of a response before and for an AU no less! I've literally only had like a rare ask every couple months, and I know there's like less a dozen peeps in my OverlordsAU fan jar, but just thinking about how each and every ask was sent by people who wanted to get to know these characters that I've fleshed out only for funsies is surreal to me