#but you know what is the same then as now HOW BAT SHIT EXPENSIVE NEW YORK IS

[seagull-scribbles]

'Best man' can’t even tie a bow tie 💒

[roosterforme]

It Won't Be Long | Rooster x Reader

Summary: How are you supposed to tell your family that you have to leave? Especially when everything still feels new and flawless and beautiful? Bradley knows it will be rough to break the news to you, but telling Everett will be so much worse.

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, angst, adult language

Length: 3600 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader

This is a Batting Practice one-shot but can be read alone! Check out my masterlist for more!

"Oh, shit."

Bradley's heart sank as he read the paperwork that Maverick just handed to him. "Fuck," he groaned, fighting the urge to crumple up the pages. The sounds of conversation buzzing around him in the rec room faded to a dull noise that set his teeth on edge as he thought about how he was going to explain this to you. And even worse....how he would tell Everett. 

"Sorry, Rooster," Maverick replied, cuffing him on the shoulder, but Bradley didn't move except to shake his head a fraction of an inch. He should have known this was coming. He should have been prepared for this, but it felt like a slap in the face. You and he had only been married for less than six months, and he still felt like this was very much the honeymoon phase. How the hell was he supposed to spend a single day without you and Everett, let alone one hundred of them?

He'd been planning to take the three of you up to Disneyland for a little overnight trip during spring break. Kind of a precursor to a longer vacation to Disney World in Orlando in the summer. Well, now he'd be missing all of spring break. And he was going to miss opening day at Petco Park, too.

He vaguely registered that Maverick dismissed him early, and he heard Bob calling his name as he headed for the door. He stopped but didn't turn around as he told his future brother-in-law, "I'll call you later." He'd have to tell Bob and Molly soon, because you and Everett would need them if anything happened while Bradley was deployed, but he didn't want to talk about it with anyone until he told you himself. 

When he got home before you, it gave him plenty of time to mope while he got dinner in the oven. He decided to take a long shower, suddenly wanting nothing more than to change out of his fucking uniform. The Valentine's Day card he gave you a few days ago was still propped up on your dresser, and he sighed when he looked at the pretty flowers still blooming beautifully in the vase next to it. When he opened the card and read what he'd written, he wasn't surprised to find that he had it practically memorized after spending hours agonizing about what to say to his wife on a day dedicated to being in love.

Kitten, 

You changed my life and everything in it for the better last spring, and not a minute goes by that I'm not thinking about you. I hope you'll let me love you every Valentine's Day for the rest of my life. I hope you'll love me back for all of them. I'm so happy you're my wife.

Love,

Bradley

P.S.- How do you feel about wearing your collar, leash and your bodysuit tonight?

He set the card down again with a soft groan and stripped out of his uniform. The shower felt amazing, and he treated himself to your expensive body wash before he rinsed himself off. When he put on his sweatpants and started looking for a tee shirt, everything in his drawer seemed to have Top Gun or Navy Waves printed on it. He just wasn't in the mood for any of it since he knew he was about to have two conversations he'd really rather skip, so he pulled on the Phillies shirt that he got for Christmas from you and Everett.

The kitchen timer started going off at the same time he heard your car in the driveway, and Bradley ran back downstairs to get dinner out of the oven. "You're home early!" you said, bursting through the front door with Everett by your side, and for the first time since this morning, everything seemed more colorful and loud in a good way.

"Dad! I aced my math test!" Everett said as he came running into the kitchen, waving a sheet of paper in the air. "A hundred percent!"

Bradley's heart clenched as he picked Everett up in a hug and buried his face against him. "I'm proud of you, kiddo. That's what happens when you stop rushing through your homework."

He held onto his son a little longer than he normally would before kissing his cheek and setting him down. You eyed him closely as you dumped your work stuff on one of the chairs. He must have done something to give himself away, because a second later, you said, "Ev, you promised you'd take ten minutes to clean your room before dinner."

"Fine," he replied, his voice right on the edge of whining. Normally Bradley would remind him not to talk to you that way, but he let it slide right now. Everett headed for the stairs, and once he was out of sight, you were in Bradley's arms. 

"What's wrong, Coach?" you asked, running your fingers along his cheek before pushing them through his damp hair. "What's bothering you?"

When you gently kissed him, he didn't stop you. And when it took him a minute to reply, you didn't rush him. "Baby... I'm being deployed."

Your grip on him grew incrementally tighter as you whispered, "Oh. When?" 

His forehead met yours as he forced out the sentence, "I have to leave mid March, and I'm due back on Ev's birthday."

When you nodded, he could tell you were still letting his words settle in your mind. You took a deep breath and huffed out a little laugh as you whispered, "That's a long time."

Bradley swallowed down his guilt. "It's too damn long. I don't want to go fourteen weeks without you and Ev. I don't even like going a whole day when I can help it. I'm supposed to be here with you."

You nodded, and when you spoke, he could hear the tears in your voice. "We managed without you before, we can do it again. At least you'll get home on his birthday."

He collected you tighter against his body as he groaned. He would rather do almost anything other than miss his son's eighth birthday. "Kitten. Sometimes the dates aren't accurate. Sometimes the carriers run behind schedule. One time I returned a week later than I anticipated." 

You made a soft sound that left him reeling. "Well, if that happens, then I'll explain it to him. And we'll deal with it."

"Fuck," he grunted, slipping out of your grasp and gripping the edge of the countertop with both hands as his anger flared. "I don't want the two of you to have to deal with me missing out on celebrations. I already bought tickets for Ev and I to go to see the Padres on opening day! I was going to let him skip school! If I miss his birthday, I swear I'll be fucking sick, Kitten! And if Molly doesn't have the baby before March fifteenth, then I won't get to meet him until he's three months old!"

"Bradley," you whispered, ducking under his arm so you were right there between him and the counter. "Listen to me," you said, taking his face in your hands and kissing him. "This is why we love you so much. Because you love us so much."

You had tears in your eyes that matched his as he muttered, "I still feel like we just got married. Like every day with you is so exciting. And Ev didn't grow up with a military dad. He's not used to my lifestyle. I..." Bradley paused and dipped his head down, staring at your work shoes as he said, "I feel important every day because both of you rely on me for things around here. More than just my income. Ev and I do his homework together, and I like helping you cook meals. And I live for taking him to the park to play baseball. I live for it, Kitten."

With two firm hands under his chin, you shifted him so he was looking at you. "I said we would be able to manage without you because we did it before. We know how to do it. Not that we would enjoy ourselves, Bradley. My heart will hurt with worry every day that you're gone, and Everett will miss you because you're essential to his happiness. But this is part of your career, and you're very good at it."

Bradley knew he was crying now as he said, "I'll miss the beginning of his baseball season. He's the only one from his old team who is going to play real ball again this spring instead of tee ball."

You smiled and kissed his cheek. "All thanks to you. And I'll take a million videos for you to watch. I'll email them so you can scrutinize his technique, and then I'll help him improve. I mean, look how much more I know about baseball since I first met you."

Of course your words made him feel a little better. They always did. You always validated his place in this family when he started to doubt himself. "You've come a long way, Kitten. And it's a good thing, too, because I don't think Ev is going to lose interest in baseball any time soon."

You smiled as your lips skimmed his. "I really hope not since the two of you turned the extra bedroom into a Phillies shrine."

"Why are you both crying?"

Bradley's gaze snapped toward Everett who was halfway between the bottom of the stairs and the kitchen with a concerned look on his face. "Ev," he started, unsure how to handle this conversation. Part of him wanted to wait until after the three of you had eaten dinner, but right now, he looked very upset.

"Is Aunt Molly okay?" he asked softly. "She was crying the other day when she said the baby was hurting her back."

When Bradley still hesitated, you said, "Aunt Molly is fine. She texted me a picture of her swollen feet at lunchtime." Then you leaned in closer and whispered, "Do you want me to talk to him?"

"No," Bradley replied immediately. "No, I'll do it." But it was harder than he thought it would be to get the words out in a way that would make sense to a seven year old. Why had he convinced himself that he'd be good at this parenting thing? He didn't even know what the hell to say right now. "Grab our gloves," he told his son. "Let's go out back and toss a ball around before we eat dinner."

Everett perked up immediately and ran off, only to return with two well worn baseball gloves and a baseball. "Okay."

Bradley slipped on a pair of shoes. "Okay."

Wordlessly, they threw the ball around for a bit, the quiet space soothing the part of Bradley that was terrified of fucking this up. "Hey, Kiddo?"

"Yeah, Dad?" Everett asked as he threw a scorcher to Bradley.

"You remember how we talked about deployments before?"

"Yeah." His voice was softer this time, and his face fell a little bit. "I remember. It's when you have to go way out into the ocean and fly off of an aircraft carrier."

"Yeah," Bradley croaked, squeezing the ball as hard as he could in his right hand. "I'm going to have to leave to do that in a few weeks."

He watched as his son tried to be strong and keep it together, but then Everett's face crumpled as he started crying. "But you said that lasts for months," he said as he looked at the ground, and Bradley rushed toward him. "And I heard Jayden in my class say deployments are really dangerous."

"Ev," he replied, dropping the ball and his glove and kneeling right in front of him. He swiped at the tears with his fingers as he said, "I can't stand it when you cry. It breaks my heart." 

But Everett just cried more. "I don't want you to leave now. You just got here!"

"Kiddo," he whispered, wrapping him up in a hug. "I'll be back soon. It won't be long. Nothing we can't handle."

"But what if something happens to you?" 

Bradley's heart shattered and was immediately put back together. He hated making you and Everett worry about him, but the fact that you both loved him enough to care made him feel whole. He kissed his son's tear streaked cheeks and said, "The only thing that's going to happen is me flying around in my jet for a few weeks before I come right back home. Sounds pretty boring, right?"

He nodded against Bradley's shoulder. "Yeah, I guess so."

Bradley kissed his forehead and whispered, "I'll be so bored without you. I'm going to need you and Mom to take a bunch of photos and videos and email them to me all day long. And I'll need you to ace all your school assignments and be well behaved for everyone except your Aunt Molly. You think you can do that?"

Everett shrugged, but when his glove slipped off of his hand, he hugged Bradley around the neck. "I'll try, Dad. But I'll miss you."

A tear slipped down Bradley's cheek as he managed to say, "I'll miss you, too."

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

"It's not time yet," you told Everett as he sat on the couch with the iPad on his lap, staring at it longingly. "Ten more minutes. Why don't you finish your math homework while you wait?"

"Because I like doing my math homework with Dad," Everett explained as he looked at you like you were absolutely ridiculous for even suggesting such a thing. "I want to solve the problem with him."

Even though it meant you would have less time to talk to your husband about other things, you'd let Everett do math homework with him over FaceTime. It wasn't like Bradley was going to complain. They were two peas in a pod. Everett even had the Phillies current pitching stats printed out and ready to share. 

"You'll have to show him your countdown, too. We're getting closer."

Before Bradley left, he and Everett cut up countless strips of paper and wrote numbers on them so Everett could conduct a countdown until his eighth birthday. Until the day Bradley was supposed to return home. There had been a gigantic paper chain snaking through the house, but now you were down to your final ten loops. Just ten more days without Bradley.

When the iPad rang, Everett nearly dropped it in his excitement, and you ran in from the kitchen. "Dad!" he said as Bradley's handsome face filled the screen.

"Hey, Ev," he said, sounding exhausted and relieved. "I miss you, Kiddo. Where's Mom?" 

"She's right here." 

Your son tilted the screen, and Bradley sighed. "Kitten."

"Bradley! We miss you. Ten more days!"

A crooked smile broke out on his face, and he kept his eyes on you for a beat longer while Everett started telling him all about baseball practice with his new coach and how his baby cousin Charlie threw up yesterday and about how the Phillies won three games in a row. You lost him to your son just like you knew you would as soon as Everett asked him for help with his homework. 

You sat quietly on the couch while Bradley looked at the math sheet and helped him work through the problem. Then Everett showed him the remaining length of the paper chain countdown, and as soon as that was finished, Bradley said, "Great job, Kiddo. Now why don't you go clean your room up before bed while I talk to Mom?"

"Okay. Love you, Dad!"

"I love you, too," he promised. "And I'll see you on your birthday."

Everett handed you the iPad and ran upstairs to his bedroom. "After all that, I only get three minutes alone with my husband this week," you said with a little smirk.

Bradley groaned and shook his head. "I can guarantee when I get home, I'll be on you nonstop. Don't worry about that, Baby. We won't sleep for days."

You bit your lip and laughed as he groaned. "What do you want for your birthday, Coach?"

He glanced around the small room where he was sitting before he said, "You can find that information written in your Valentine's Day card. Maybe throw in some vanilla frosting, and I'll be all set."

"Sounds good," you replied, and his smile grew. "We'll count down to Ev's birthday, and then we'll count down to yours."

"Speaking of which, did you get his present ready? All wrapped up in a box?"

You nodded as your heart fluttered. "Exactly to your specifications," you promised, picturing the package you had stashed in the linen closet.

"Perfect. I need to make it up to him for missing opening day for the Padres. I hated disappointing him."

As you glanced around your living room at the remaining countdown numbers and Everett's completed math homework, you said, "Something tells me you could never truly disappoint him. See you in ten days, my love."

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

"Dad!"

Bradley rushed through the crowd on the dock and headed for his family. You looked beautiful, and somehow Everett looked like he grew six inches in three months, but everything was perfect again once he had an arm wrapped around each of you. He kissed your lips and squeezed you to his side. "I missed you, Kitten," he murmured, knowing you wouldn't be too mad if you weren't his main focus until later tonight. "Happy birthday, Kiddo," he said with a smile as he released you to hug his son. "I missed you, too."

Everett clung to him when Bradley knelt down, and he stood up again with him in his arms. "Last week, my new coach said I have a heck of an arm. And school's already over. Mom took a video of my last day on Friday. You have to watch seventeen new videos from last week. We can watch them together tomorrow before we go out for pizza with baby Charlie and Aunt Molly and Uncle Bob."

Bradley buried his face against Everett's shoulder, excited to hear him talking a mile a minute in person. "Absolutely. But first, let's get home and open your birthday present."

The ride in your car was filled with your voice and Everett's, and Bradley sat back with a smile on his face and his fingers laced with yours. "How was the aircraft carrier?" Everett asked.

"Boring, loud and uncomfortable. And they never showed the Phillies games on TV."

"We can watch the game recaps!"

Bradley was already daydreaming about taking a few days off work, lounging on the couch with Everett until lunchtime, going to the park to play baseball, and then making love to you all night.

"We can definitely watch the game recaps," he promised as you pulled into the driveway next to Bradley's prized Bronco. "But first, I really want you to open your birthday present."

He didn't change out of his uniform. He didn't even remove his boots. He just gave Everett the box wrapped in red and white paper after you handed it to him, and he watched his son tear into the paper while your hands came to rest on his chest. "You are the only birthday present that kid wanted," you whispered.

Bradley felt the flush rising in his cheeks as you kissed his neck, but Everett had the lid off the box now. "I don't know about that, Kitten. I think he'll like this one," Bradley replied as Everett put the Phillie Phanatic hat on his head and read the paper he found in the box out loud.

"Three tickets for the Phillies game at Citizens Bank Park! On the Fourth of July! Behind the dugout! That's where the Phanatic dances! We can see the Phanatic for real! In Philadelphia!"

"Told you," Bradley whispered against your lips as Everett ran around the living room, already thrilled for his first trip to Philly.

But you were shaking your head and looking up at him with the most sincere expression as you said, "Just wait for it."

And you were right. A few minutes later, after Everett's excitement for his Phillies tickets tapered off a bit, he asked, "Dad, can we build a blanket tent and watch Toy Story and eat popcorn?"

Bradley paused where he was unlacing his boots and smiled. "Under one condition."

Everett smiled back and shrugged. "Okay. What is it?"

Bradley tossed his boots aside and said, "We change into our matching baseball pajamas and grab the stuffed Phanatic from your bedroom. And Mom gets to join us, too."

"Deal."

An hour and a half later, Bradley was watching one of his favorite movies with two of his favorite people. You were feeding him popcorn and teasing his hair as you lay with your head on his shoulder in the blanket fort. Everett was sound asleep, draped across Bradley's chest, and it felt so good to be home, he almost started crying. 

"I missed this so much," he whispered, kissing Everett's forehead. "Missed my family."

You hummed softly as you raked your fingers through his hair. "Like I said, going to the Phillies game will be great and all, but having you home today was the only thing he really needed for his birthday."

Bradley grinned and asked, "And does my Kitten need me, too?"

You popped up from his shoulder and whispered, "Why don't you carry Ev up to his bed, and then I'll let you find out."

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

I love emo Coach Bradley, and it was definitely time to check in with the three of them. He never wants to be the reason Everett cries, but that kid loves him so much, it's unavoidable. Let's check back in with them again soon. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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[vln-vibes]

The Good Ol’ Switcheroo

GUYS

GUYS

GUYS

I know there’s fics out there with switcheroo hijinks with Tim and Danny but imagine this---

Jazz and Babs

and

Danny and Tim

But like at the same time

So the Fentons are visiting Gotham, the reason why is a bit up in the air;

Jazz wants to visit the Gotham U campus, the Fentons have a meeting with W.E for a business deal (they’re sus about the whole ghost hunting thing but it doesn’t hurt to scope out what they’re capable of) or maybe they’re hunting down Batman because they’re sure he’s a ghost. Reader’s choice tbh.

Unfortunately Jazz sprained her ankle the week before while ghost hunting with Team Fenton. This also led to her parents coddling her and she just barely managed to convince them to still go on their trip as a way to get Danny a vacation.  The only caveat; they force her on a wheelchair for the duration of the trip.

Spring forward to a random Thursday afternoon during their vacation; Danny and Jazz were dying of embarrassment (in his case re-dying) with their parents antics. They didn’t think Gothamites would blatantly stare at them all things considered but even they had their standards they guess.

Danny bought himself some sunglasses and a coffee while Jazz just put on her reading glasses and just tried to bury herself in her new Spoiler themed sweater.

Of course that’s when the chaos started.

It was just their luck that just as they finally got away from their parents that a rogue finally attacked; where there was a rogue the Batman wouldn’t be too far behind.

Danny’s plan was just to hide in a random alleyway or wait until the coast was clear to use his powers and fly them back to their hotel room and wait for everything to die (hah) back down. That’s not what ended up happening.

“There you guys are, c’mon time to suit up”

The duo are too stunned to do anything as they’re dragged off by this random rich guy (Bruce Wayne) and into a really expensive and familiar looking car (the Batmobile). The door folds open and Jazz’s wheelchair is fastened in seconds, Danny just kinda goes to sit next to her (can’t let his sister be kidnapped by herself). 

There’s a guy sitting shotgun next to the original alley guy. He’s wearing a mask. Oh shit its Nightwing.

“Looks like Freeze is at it again, Uptown’s already halfway covered in ice. No time to waste Red Robin”

Red Robin? Like the food chain??

In those few seconds the Batmobile is speeding off, the alley guy is now the Batman and they’re passing a speeding RV going the other way. Cue that one Umbrella Academy meme but its Tim and Babs staring back at Danny and Jazz.

A compartment opens up revealing Red Robin’s suit with the cowl. 

‘Why the hell not? It’s not like it’ll kill me’ is all Danny thinks while he puts on the outfit, ditching the cowl tho because it looks ugly and instead grabs one of ‘Robin’s’ extra masks that were next to it. He took a selfie and sent it to Sam and Tucker, one also featuring a Done looking Jazz.

“You got that RR?”

“Hn yeah sure”

It isn’t until halfway through their fight with Mr.Freeze, not even noticing how the usually chilly Tim doesn’t look the slightest bit cold, when they meet up with Black Bat that any of them are clued in to what happened.

“Not Red Robin. New brother?”

“What are you talking about Cass, he’s right there?”

Cue to Danny using Tim’s bo staff to propel himself and air kick Mr.Freeze’s helmet.

“Ice to meet you frosty!”

“Yeah no. Our parents may be nuts but we’re not open for adoption” Jazz quips from the comms, strangely not too different from the system Tucker uses when they out hunting for ghosts.

“Wait I thought you were just recovering from the cold!?”

“Twisted ankle actually. On your five!”

Meanwhile Jack and Maddie got a ecto signature at the other side of town. They spotted Danny and Jazz leaving the library, grabbed them (not noticing the yelling crowds running the other way). 

They let the GAV fasten the kids in before speeding off to catch the ghost.

In his defense Tim was working on one hour of sleep in the last 48 hours and Bab’s lost her voice from her cold. In all the ensuing chaos Babs dropped her phone and Tim’s just ran out of juice.

They’d thought it was a Standard Wayne and Co Kidnapping until the duo in hazmat suits kept referring to them as Jazz and Dann-o. Hopefully not insane and trying to fake being a family. Hopefully

They take a turn into Crime Alley and the duo look at each other as they see the GPS head towards one of Red Hood’s places.

This would be good

[putaposyinyourhair]

Slowly but Also Like All at Once

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7

noah diaz x mirage (they’re… y’know 💅)

warnings: mirage keeps flirting like an asshole and noah’s still in his feels but it gets tender

arcee shows up (and you know she should come with her own caution label)

“So, um…” Noah pauses for a second, to think on his words before he says them aloud. “You look good.”

He physically flinches away from his own words— from his own stupidity— and squeezes his eyes shut, not able to stop himself from reaching up with both hands to dig his knuckles into his eye sockets.

Fuckin’ idiot.

But Mirage just chuckles at his expense and Noah forces the embarrassment away with a deep breath.

“I meant like— you look… new,” he tries to correct, even though it still sounds wrong. “How’d that happen?”

“Oh, you mean how’d they get humpty dumpty back together again?” Mirage drawls.

Noah shifts in the sand, pulling away from Mirage’s side— where he’s been resting for a while now— and turns to sit cross-legged in the sand, staring up at the bot.

Mirage is looking up at the sky. The stars are starting to disappear behind dark clouds but the moon is still shining brightly over the water, its light reflecting off of Mirage’s silver face plating.

“Yeah,” Noah alludes, curiously.

Mirage glances down at him, frowning softly for a moment— such a quick little moment that Noah barely catches it— before he shrugs.

“OP spent like ten weeks in the Mojave looking for one of our medics who crash-landed there,” the mech reveals. “Ratchet. Dude’s usually such a buzzkill but… he’s good at what he does. I’ll give him that.”

Noah’s brows arch.

A medic? A new autobot?

“How many of you are there?” he asks before he can stop himself. “On Earth, I mean.”

One side of Mirage’s mouth tugs up into a sly smirk and Noah rolls his eyes before the bot can even reply.

“I told you already, boo, there’s none like me,” he declares pompously.

Noah reaches out and attempts to shove at Mirage’s thigh guard, uselessly because it does absolutely nothing.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Noah tells him. “You’re one of a kind.”

Mirage sits up, grinning.

“You better recognize!”

Noah barks out a short laugh.

“You a one of a kind dumbass,” he snickers softly.

Mirage reaches out to poke at his chest playfully and Noah tries to bat the digit away fruitlessly.

“Yeah, but you missed me,” the mech teases. “You already admitted it. No take backs.”

Noah doesn’t know why the words pull such a visceral reaction out of him, but they do. The happy smile drops from his face and he swallows drily.

“I did, man,” he concedes, fisting the material of his jeans in his hands. “I really fuckin’ did.”

Mirage moves so fast, it almost scares the shit out of Noah. The mech reaches out and suddenly Noah finds himself settled on top of the bot’s lap, pressed against his chest plates with one of Mirage’s servos cradling his back— well, the backpack strapped to his back anyway— whilst the other gently presses Noah’s face into the junction between his helm and his shoulderpad.

They’re… hugging?

Noah feels kind of frozen solid for a minute, unsure of what to do in this strange new situation. Sure, he’s been… inside— for lack of a better word— of Mirage before, in different modes of him too. And Noah doesn’t think either of them are strangers to physical proximity, after all they’d stuck pretty close to each other the whole time in Peru.

But this is something else. Something… more.

It’s nice though. Really nice.

So he relaxes into it.

It’s warm. And he can feel that same hum emanating from underneath the bot’s plating, like a low-frequency vibration that seems to soothe and calm something deep inside of Noah— he’s almost tempted to call it his soul, as corny as that fucking sounds.

Noah’s face feels more heated than usual.

“You a hugger, huh?” he mumbles, reaching up to run a few fingers against the glossy metal edge of that baseball cap-esque piece that rounds the back of Mirage’s helm.

This close, Mirage smells faintly of motor oil and something else Noah suspects must be alien in origin because he decides there’s no earthly scent he can compare it to. Not any that do it justice anyway.

Mirage’s digits move against the back of his head, digging into his curls as the mech’s chest plate’s rise and fall with a small stutter.

“For you?” he sighs. “Always.”

Noah’s eyes widen, his jaw clenching.

And his heart is fucking… fluttering. He really hopes his friend can’t feel it.

Something’s wrong. With him. Or with Mirage.

Noah doesn’t know what it is. But this is…

It is weird. Or, maybe not weird. Weird isn’t the right word for it.

“Mirage.”

Noah pulls away from the mech so fast, a yelp bursting out of him as he nearly tumbles off of the bot’s lap— he’s sure he would’ve gone sprawling into the sand between his friends’ outstretched legs had it not been for Mirage’s servos keeping him upright. He reaches out and grabs onto one of the bot’s gauntlets.

And before he can look away— to locate the source of the newcomer’s voice, a newcomer Noah is pretty sure is Arcee— he looks up at Mirage.

Oh.

Mirage’s face is doing… something. The mech’s optics are darker than usual— not glowing as bright a blue— and the silver metal just beneath his optics is tinged with a bluish hue, something Noah’s never seen it do before.

Noah doesn’t want to assume but it almost looks like a—

“Aww, Arcee, why you scarin’ my boy like that?” Mirage whines out, throwing his helm back like an unruly child who’s been told he has to eat all the vegetables on his plate. “His heart’s beating so fast!”

Okay, so Mirage can feel his heartbeat when they’re this close.

Wonderful.

Noah huffs— mortified but unwilling to admit it, even though his cheeks feel so flushed he probably looks like he could be doing an impression of a tomato— and reaches back to gently push away the servo Mirage has at his back.

“I wasn’t scared,” he grumbles, grunting as he steps down from Mirage’s lap and back onto the sand. “Jus’ surprised… that’s all.”

Arcee steps closer, smiling softly as she glances between them for a moment.

“Sorry, Noah,” she has the decency to apologize. “I really didn’t mean to frighten you.”

Noah waves her apology off.

“Nah, seriously,” he stresses, reaching up to grab onto the straps of his backpack. “I wasn’t scared or nothin’.”

Yeah, he kind of was. But he was mostly embarrassed.

Was it normal for cybertronians to hug humans? To hold humans the way Mirage was holding him?

Arcee isn’t giving him any indication. So maybe it’s not as big of a deal as it feels to Noah.

The femme fixes her gaze on Mirage, one optical ridge arching as both servos rest at her skirt plates. Her lower body cocking to one side as she watches the blue and silver bot rise off of the ground, raining sand down all over Noah who groans and steps away, reaching up to sweep it off of his head.

He’s definitely going to need a good, long shower later to get all that sand out of his curls.

“I said I’d cover for you for a couple of hours, Mirage,” Arcee points out, then mimics glancing down at a watch on her gauntlet in a very human-like way. “It’s been six.”

Noah’s eyes widen, glancing down at his own watch quickly.

Six hours? Oh, he definitely missed dinner. His ma’s gonna kill him.

It’s nearing sunrise already.

“It’s time,” Arcee emphasizes. "Optimus will not be pleased."

A sharp wave of what can only be panic rushes through Noah. It’s so quick, engulfing him from head to toe. He feels exactly the same way he’d felt when he’d had to stand there and watch Mirage be taken away. He thinks he makes some kind of tiny strangled noise.

The overwhelming sensation leaves him blanched and breathless.

“Arcee!” Mirage chastises, dropping to one knee beside Noah. “You’re not helping.”

Noah feels a couple of his friend’s digits slip underneath his chin and he lets the mech tenderly lift his face so he’s looking up into Mirage’s now bright blue optics.

“W-what is she talkin’ about?” he manages to squeak out, despite the dread that feels like it’s got a physical hold of his heart in his chest.

“It's nothing bad!” Mirage swears, holding his other servo up, palm out. “I promise.”

Noah swallows the lump in his throat and exhales shakily.

“Okay,” he yields. “Okay, sorry.”

He feels kind of stupid about his reaction, childish, and pulls his chin away from the mech's digits. But he doesn’t look away.

Mirage gives him a look that Noah thinks translates as sheepish, before he stands, optics flickering about for a moment like he’s struggling to make himself meet Noah’s unwavering gaze.

“Okay, so, uh,” Mirage stammers, reaching up to rub at the back of his helm with one slightly twitchy servo. “Well, you see, what had happened was—”

Arcee huffs.

“Ratchet has yet to give him the all clear so Optimus expressly forbid him from leaving," she reveals. "So of course he snuck out of the medbay without permission to come see you tonight, Noah.”

Oh. Yeah, sure.

Noah’s heart doesn’t feel like it’s swelling with joy and about to burst out of his chest or anything.

He’s totally like… chill about it.

[outivv]

I won't lie but being on Genshin Twt is really tiring.

Mostly because you have lurkers on every popular hoyoverse boycott account dating the "boycott has fail" or posting pictured about how "Hoyoverse made billions of dollars off of ZZZ"

@HilichurlDaily and @HYVBoycott are always the go to people to have enormous blocklist of racist fans

But if those idiots have a brain then they should know Genshin is losing profits

https://www.reddit.com/r/WutheringWaves/s/IXI2eg3e3S

This is the monthly revenue from every popular gacha game. While ZZZ has made about a billion dollars Genshin has LOST NEARLY HALF of its profits since June.

Same thing with HSR they went from almost 1 billion in June to less a 1/3 when July came.

Now before anyone comes here and say "well because everyone is so focus on ZZZ that of course no one is going to play Genshin and HSR" I would like to remind everyone Genshin main problem is that Hoyoverse is not creating anything NEW Game Modes other than events to grind primogems. Many Player have expressed their lack of new gameplay, having better End game content or trying to have more ways to be F2P because with every new region you are less likely to find primogems.

It's also doesn't help Hoyoverse choose to have 3D animation in mutiple server games. That alone is expensive to maintain along with budgets and paying workers.

This is similar to what happen to Rooster Teeth while RWBY was popular the company made poor finicial decisions had to make cuts in order to maintain the show. However in the end of the day it was not considered profitable and could not keep up with the animation cost.

(Some lighter note I'm not surprise to see Love and Deepspace 2nd highest because everyone wanted Sylus 5 star card lol)

Genshin twt is a fucking nightmare I’ve been there since like 2021 and it’s always been awful. The saving grace is the scrumptious fanart that people make with their headcanons of characters, I have so much appreciation for them. Fuck those lurkers though, they’re so annoying.

YAYYYY GENSHIN LOSING PROFITS LETS GOOO

I’ve had issues with genshin for a while about their lack of any actual fulfilling content, and decent gameplay other than “go grind primos” cause that’s what the entire game feels like :P girl I’m saving fully f2p for Dottore atp, cause I gotta save A YEAR in advance to at least guarantee a single copy of a character and their weapon. So genshin has issues with that, and has forever- and it doesn’t change even with the shitty summer event plus just a single new character this patch too that the majority of the community doesn’t like.

I hope genshin’s sales stay that low and go lower gen natlan drops, istg if this shit turns out like sumeru I will explode- don’t be weak, don’t spend any money on hyv games, I get zzz because it dropped and people probably spent loads of money right off the bat, so I understand- but DO NOT SPEND ANY MORE. NO MORE. INCLUDING IN HONKAI STAR RAIL. FEIXIAO, YUNLI, MOZE, JIAOQIU, LINGSHA, AND ANY CHARACTERS AFTER THEM ARE NOT WORTH IT!! Keep their sales down, in ALL THEIR GAMES

[bionicstars]

The Traveler's Council Excerpt

Hi! Not sure whether you're still on tumblr or not, buuuut I guess I'll try this thing out. So, I first read your fic a while back and instantly got so obsessed with the main team dynamic and all that bonding, I...wrote a fanfic about it! That is still in the process of being written! Anyway, I wanted to share some excerpts with you, but I'm not done with the fic yet. >.< Anyway, getting a bit rambly, so here are four out-of-context excerpts!

***

“W-we’ve been, we’ve been hunting for a treasure, too, actually,” Lulloyd spoke up. Everyone looked at him in surprise. 

“Wait, really?” Monty raised an eyebrow. 

“I’m parroting myself.” Harumi shook her head. “What’s the treasure?”

“It’s, uh…well, the uh…title is kinda…long.”

“Oh, come on!” Mage protested and slumped over the table. “Don’t leave us in suspense like that!”

“...The Super Mildly Awesome Treasure of Unexpected Secrets and Unrelated Plot Twists At the Worst Times.” 

Everyone cringed simultaneously. 

“Oh, yeah, okay, forget I asked.” Harumi choked out a cross between a groan and a laugh. 

"I I’m going to regret asking this.” Monty sighed. “Does anyone else feel like we just set ourselves up for something by asking that question?”

“Oh, uh, probably,” Lulloyd replied. “But don’t worry! The Super Secret Ninja Force are on it. We, we’ll find it!”

***

“T-that’s pretty important, Monty.” Lulloyd laughed.

“Yeah, in an anime.” Monty grumbled. “Not in real life when it involves me having to deal with the Walmart version of the Super Sentai Rangers.”

“The…Walmart version of…what now?” Over blinked repeatedly, trying to process what Monty had just said.

***

“Lloyd,” Lulloyd began slowly, then tilted his head to look at the ninja in question. “That…was…”

“Bat-shit insane,” Monty said bluntly, getting a warning look from Lulloyd and Over alike.

“I killed the mood,” Lloyd groaned into his hands. “I’m sorry.”

***

“Well, what is it?” Monty asked impatiently. “Spit it out, already!”

“We got a new Elemental Master in town.” Harumi said simply, taking everyone at the table aback.

Lloyd almost jumped out of his seat. “What element did they have?!”

“This is gonna sound stupid, but it’s sand.” Harumi said. “The glass broke because they were trying to harness the sand from before the glass was materialized…which is kind of stupid, but Olive pointed out that the particular type of glass that was broken each time was important. It’s very expensive glass for a reason - it’s made by a company that somehow figured out how to make the glass where the sand remains a separate material from it. Techno Bandit here must have figured that out and so tried to use his sand powers with the glass. Maybe to make it easier to carry the equipment and tech that he stole? I don’t know, but either way, we were able to figure out that the Techno Bandit was an Elemental Master of Sand.”

“You’re right,” Monty said. “That is stupid.”

***

I tried. T^T 

I let my mind wander a little too far with the fic ideas annnnd these excerpts are from a story called The Traveler's Council, which is a precursor to Rewrite the Ninjaverse...which is basically an idea from Across the Spider-Verse. XD 

Traveler's Council sets up a group of universal counterparts(those that aren't necessarily of Lloyd specifically, but all have the green power or something similar etc to stay sorta within the rules) that have ended up in the same situation as Over, only they kinda wanna crash other universes and transform it into the ones that they lost, by the promise of some crazed Time God. 

Rewrite the Ninjaverse thus far is probably the more self-indulgent of the two. It's basically that Time God from earlier accidentally dragging Lloyd into their business and a kind of reversal of Enter the Ninjaverse happens, where instead of Lloyd starting out the fic hunting down the people who took his powers; he's being hunted by the person-Time God-whose powers he had accidentally STOLE. And he has no clue how to use them, so he lands himself in infinite loops that either clash with his own universe's timeline, and most frighteningly, the events of Enter the Ninjaverse. Obviously, changing the timeline is probably not a good thing, and in Lloyd's case, it's just really awful every time loop - so the story is basically him scrambling to fix the timeline back to its rightful place and uh...well, as you can tell, it's a bit...messy. 

***

...by the way, I didn't use this "Show Me Anything You Have!" submission box incorrectly, right...? Or misunderstand what it means? Cause if I did, I sincerely apologize for my crazed ramblings. XD

(I always get this nervous talking to fave fanfic authors I appreciate a lot-)

Anyway, uhhh happy early new years! X3

[sunsetsnz]

Hi! May I please have 12, 14, and 16? 👀❤️

you may 😌 thank you anon!

12) Do they use medicine or sit it out? If they do, what do they use? Pills or tea?

jonathan is a big “natural remedies” guy, i think. he drinks chamomile tea on the regular anyway, so that’s always his go-to when he’s sick as well. he tries to get through without meds. when it’s allergies he’s more likely to take meds off the bat bc they drive him crazy

seph doesn’t get ill often, so it hits him harder. he’ll probably try to force himself to sit it out, but eventually he’ll feel shitty enough that he can’t anymore and ends up taking medicine. he wasn’t a tea drinker before, but his boyfriend swears by it so he agreed to try it one time and…it was gently soothing, actually. now he drinks it every time he’s sick. he likes it the most when jonathan makes it for him, though 💕

14) Are they emotional or rather rational? And does that change when they’re sick?

i think both of them have elements of each!

jonathan is a soft-hearted, sensitive guy, but he’s also practical, resourceful and pretty good at knowing his own limits. he doesn’t like to make a fuss and he doesn’t get too emotional when sick. if anything he jokes at his own expense and just tries to get on with things without feeling too sorry for himself. he does cut himself some slack and allow himself a little extra rest and downtime, though

seph is a sweetheart too, he’s intuitive and good at reading people, but tries not to act purely off his emotions. he’s normally good at remaining in control, but on the flip side it means he can bottle things up and it all comes flooding out at once later. this happens when he falls ill, his emotions spiral, feeling overwhelmed and vulnerable and seeking comfort in his favourite things and people.

16) Do you have a comfort OC? And if so why? What do you like best about them? Do you relate to them in ways?

this might be surprising but ryder is/was probably my biggest comfort oc! haim is a close second. i haven’t talked much about them here, these days i try to avoid thinking about them much bc…they’ll always be connected to my ex’s ocs and remind me of her. but i can’t ignore how much comfort they used to bring me, and still occasionally do. they’re some of my oldest ocs, the ones i ‘know’ the best. i wish i could think and talk about them without all the shit that comes with, but…yeah. i don’t ‘know’ jonathan and seph as well or as deeply yet, i’m still in the process of that, but they’re still pretty new ocs. they’ll grow with me and i know one day i’ll feel the same about them ❤️

[blackfangedreaper]

Bonten headcannons🎴

Summary: Headcannons revolving around bonten and their cute little housewife.

Pairings: Bonten x Fem!black!reader

Warnings: fluff, sexual content, mentions of drugs and drug use, cursing grammatical errors.

Many of you might think being married to these men is a blessing... Not! Why? Because they cause nothing but chaos! Well except kakucho ♥, he's an angel! But you can't say the same for the rest and here's why:

(๑'ᴗ')ゞ🌺

Manjirou was built like a twig before he met you but now he's giving "i don't know what you feeding him but he's too damn big" energy. This man makes sure to clean his plate during breakfast brunch, lunch and dinner, gahhdamn! You be feeding these bitches too damn much (ಠ_ಠ). He finally put on the weight he lost and got a little bit taller. And now he's got a taste of your beautiful cooking he swears he's never missing a meal again. "Meeting dismissed, I've got lunch with my wife so scram."

You once caught Ran listening to the tiktok and reddit viral song C-bat and once he saw you caught him in the act his lips slowly rose to a smirk, his malicious gaze set on you as he bopped his head to the beat. You felt a chill down your spine and you swore you've never ran as fast as you did then. "Why are you running?" >:)

Rindou never let's you put on his glasses no matter how much you beg, but he's willing to, that is if you suck him off with them on. "Hmm just like that baby, y-you look so cute with those on, its giving mia khalifa- s-slow down i-i'm joking nngh!"

Kakucho the bean, Kakucho the sweetest, kakucho the angel, well guess what the devil was once an angel too. Who would have thought baby boy kakucho would have the most dirty mind out of all of your spouses, no one right? I thought so, this man does not only crack the dirty jokes but also does the dirty talking in bed. "F-Fuck yeah sweetheart, look how my cock's sliding in and out of that wet cunt of yours."

You want new dresses? You got it. You want twelve sets of the most expensive designer shoes or jewellery? You got it. What?! You have no where to store your new spoils? Well have no fear, a new closet is under way! Bruh....You have like three closets just because Kokonoi doesn't know when to stop, i mean you're not complaining, sugar daddy kokonoi loves to spend on his baby girl so why stop. As long as your willing to put on a show for him after each shopping trip, he's happy to oblige to your every request. "How about you dance for me in that new lingerie and stilettos I bought you hmm?"

You once walked in on Sanzu poking holes in a condom after your evening bath and when he realised that he had been caught he squinted his eyes and a sinister smile made way to his face as he chased you around the house while laughing menacingly. "You can run and hide but you'll still have my babies~"

You usually have movie nights with Ran and Rindou, you lay on rindou's chest while ran loves to lay inbetween your thighs, his head taking refuge on your tummy. And since ran can't make it to end of any movie for shit, his head serves as a rest for the laptop. The heat from the laptop eventually wakes him up and before you know it he's throwing a fit then sulking. "I can't believe you've done this!" >:(

You all woke up to rambunctious laughter in the middle of the night to find Sanzu binge watching a movie series he deemed hilarious. You peered at the tv curiously and he asked you guys to join him. You had a smile on your face expecting to be amused only to see the vivid image of a person split in half gruesomely, startled you turned to sanzu too see him struggling to hold in his laugh. He was watching the movie; 'final destination'. "Pfft- hilarious right?!"

After you introduced Manjirou to otome games he became borderline obsessed with them, not too much but just enough. He sometimes runs to you for help, it's just that he does it at inconvenient times, you almost smacked a bitch when you heard the theme to 'obey me' play when you were about to sleep. "Hey y/n how do i change character cards again?"

You and Ran have 'call of duty' sundays where you both compete to see who has the most kills or headshots after every match. You almost put a real  bullet in his head when he disconnected your pad from the play station. "Hey... Let's talk about this ok? Just drop the g-gun. Y/n! No-"

When on your period you're mean to everyone but Kakucho, why? Cause this angel takes care of you, chocolates, you got it, belly rubs, all for you, anything you could possibly want. But the moment the rest do as much as come close to you, you turn feral. Why? Because they piss you off, at this point you think it's intentional. So while they run, kakucho takes a fall for the team, atleast that's what they think. "Anything else you need darling?"

Sanzu mistakely left his 'medication' out and you mistook it for advil. Let's just say you now have a scar right above your elbow. A scar you have no memory of harbouring, and whenever you ask the others they either get pale or deflect the topic. But you do know it has something to do with sanzu. "Wait a minute, something ain't right!"

(๑'ᴗ')ゞ🌺

Don't forget to say Hi.(●'◡'●)ﾉ

[spicyspiders]

what about Eddie with a male reader who has an obsession with Eddie’s lips (not speaking from experience) like he could spend hours playing with Eddie’s lips, biting on them, kissing, watching eddie suck on his fingers, etc (srry if this is too vague lol)

This isn't really what you asked for, I kind of took the prompt and ran with it, so I hope you still like it. Eddie gives the reader a tattoo, so warnings for unsafe tattoos, needles, and blood. Also, thank you all for 400 followers, and happy 69th post! Thank you all for all of the support!

There wasn’t a lot you knew about Eddie Munson. He wasn’t someone that was exactly on your radar. The most you knew of him was from the rumors you heard about him around the school. You personally thought the rumors were too farfetched to be believed, but others around school found them plausible. 

One thing you did know, at least before the new school year started, was that you found him attractive. You found a lot of guys attractive though, so that wasn’t anything new. Now that it was a new school year and you had a class this year with Eddie, your attraction grew. 

Sometimes you wondered if your attraction to Eddie was so strong because Eddie was someone that you longed to be. He was loud and confident in many different aspects. Like in the way that he spoke and in the clothing that he wore. 

Also the tattoos. You really liked those too.

When the school year began, your teacher let you pick your seats, but it only took a few weeks for that to change. Your desks were pushed together to make small groups of four. At the beginning of the year, Eddie sat in the group all the way in the back of the class, you sat in one near the middle of the room. You normally got to class early, so when you walked in and were told where your new seat was, you had the opportunity to sit and wait to see who your tablemates would be. 

When Eddie strolled in a few seconds before the bell rang and your group was still only just you, you could only watch as Eddie strolled over to come sit at your group. 

“Ms. Peter thinks you’d be a good influence on me,” Eddie said as he sat down at the desk across from you. He looked over into your eyes, a smirk on his face, “I guess you’re Mr. Good boy,” he craned his neck to yell in your teacher’s direction, “and I’m such a piece of shit, right teach?”

Ms. Peter’s looked up from her desk, an unimpressed look on her face, “watch your language, Eddie,” she said tiredly. A few students around the room snickered, while others just gave Eddie dirty looks. 

When Eddie turned his neck back to face you, he winked at you. 

-

Now that you and Eddie were the only ones to sit in a group together, it gave you ample opportunity to watch him. You were fairly certain Eddie got a new tattoo. It took a few glances for you to make it out, but it looked like a group of bats. It was on his forearm, and below that were his wrist and hand. You’ve been staring at those a lot, and you didn’t know a few simple pieces of jewelry could make your mind race. 

When your mind would race, it would always go back to the same questions. Questions like where he bought his jewelry, how expensive it was, and if at the end of the day when he took them off, would his jewelry be as warm as he looked?

“That’s a cool colony,” you said quietly, not to draw the attention of your teacher. 

“What?” Eddie asked, he raised his hand up to rest it under his chin, and you watched as the bracelet he wore fall down his arm. 

“That’s what a group of bats is called.”

Eddie nodded, glancing down at his tattoo before he placed both arms on his desk and leaned in, “I could give you your own if you wanted,” he whispered, wiggling his brows. 

“Are we listening back there, boys?” Your teacher asked, startling you. You could only watch in embarrassment as Eddie laughed when you jumped. 

You didn’t talk to Eddie for the rest of class, and you were too embarrassed to risk looking at him and making eye contact. Eddie was the one to break the silence when he found you at your locker. 

He came up beside you, placing a small piece of paper into your locker that you were currently putting books in. You looked up, Eddie stood close to you, closer than he had ever been before, close enough that you could see the small patches of stubble he had growing in. 

“That’s for when you want the tattoo,” you glanced at the sheet, seeing it had a set of numbers on it. If it wasn’t already, you could feel your heart starting to beat quickly in your chest when you looked back over to Eddie and saw his eyes go from your eyes to your lips, then quickly back to your eyes again. “Or even if you don’t want the tattoo,” Eddie whispered. 

And just like on the first day that you were placed together, Eddie winked at you before walking away. 

-

As the semester continued on, you became bolder, going from staring at Eddie’s new tattoos or his jewelry, to his face. 

His face was always framed by his hair, hair that you longed to run your fingers through. You could catch hints of the smell sometimes, a smokey, earthy scent. Like his hair, Eddie’s eyes were huge. They were also brown and warm. 

One of the more common rumors about Eddie was his drug use. You knew that he smokes, could tell by his moods on certain days he would come to class, but a rumor that you would hear would be about the harder drugs he would take. You knew the effects of them, how some would cause dilation of the pupils and it made you wonder. Wonder how those drugs would make his eyes look. Would the brown be taken over by black as the drugs took effect? Would that make his eyes look even more intense than they already were?

“What the fuck are you thinking about so hard?” Eddie whispered from across from you, an edge of concern in his voice. 

“Nothing,” you whispered back, shaking your head. 

He stared you down, and you kept a smile on your face to try and not concern him further. “You know what I’m thinking about,” Eddie asked. 

You were supposed to be working on a worksheet. You were about halfway through yours when you had placed your pencil down and began looking at Eddie. Eddie, well Eddie only had his name written on his. 

“I’m not psychic, Eddie,” you picked up your pencil and resumed working. When you didn’t hear Eddie do the same, you smiled up at him, you were met with a flabbergasted look on his face, making your smile grow wider. “I’m joking.”

That made the look deepen on his face, “wait, so you’re joking about not being psychic, so you’re actually psychic?” he whispered. It wasn’t a whisper, more like a mix of a scream and a whisper, one that cause a few students to glance in your direction. 

You chuckled under your breath, “what’re you thinking about, Eddie,” you said, looking back down at your sheet. 

“Why you haven’t called me.”

His words made you pause in what you were writing. You slowly looked back up at him. This time, you were met with an expression that was nearly blank, save for a hint of sadness in his eyes. 

“I can’t think of what to get,” it wasn’t exactly a lie. When you had gotten home from school that day, you wrote down his number on another sheet of paper in case you lost it, (you honestly wrote it on a few. Just in case) but every time you would pick up the phone, it’s like you forgot how to use your phone. When you glanced up at Eddie, he didn’t look totally convinced, “why don’t you design one for me?” You asked, looking back down at your paper. 

“Yeah,” Eddie said quietly, “why don’t I?” He asked quietly. When you glanced up, Eddie still wasn’t working on his paper, instead, he sat there, twirling his pencil, a small smile and a look of determination on his face. 

Before you left class, you reached over to Eddie’s sheet and wrote your number. Beside it you put a small message: when you finished designing my tattoo. 

-

It didn’t take long for Eddie to call you. 

His voice was full of excitement when you answered, and then a few hours later, he was letting you into his trailer, the same excitement in his voice. 

It shouldn’t surprise you when Eddie brought out a beaten-up-looking sketchbook. You didn’t know that he drew, but you did ask him to design your tattoo, so it makes sense for him to have. 

What did surprise you was how when he flipped open the book, the nervousness you felt about getting the tattoo went down. The drawings he showed you when he flipped open the book screamed Eddie. You chose one that looked similar to the same bat one he had. It should scare you, the thought of having something on your body that was so permanent that when you looked at it, would remind you so heavily of him, but it only made you giddy. 

“Where do you want it?” Eddie asked.

You held up your left arm and pointed to your inner wrist, “here.”

“Okay.” Eddie breathed out, “want to go sit down and I’ll go get everything?” He asked. 

You nodded and went to go sit down on one of the couches in his living room. It was silent for a few moments while Eddie was gone until the sound of music began to play somewhere from the back of Eddie’s house. After the music came on, Eddie returned quickly, with him the sketchbook held under his arm, a tattoo gun in one hand, and two beers in the other. 

Eddie sat down on the coffee table in front of where you sat. He sat close enough that your legs were touching, the warmth of it was like a hot brand on your knees, even through the layers of your jeans. He placed the gun and sketchbook on one side before using both hands to open the beers. 

He held one out to you, his fingers brushing yours when you grabbed it. You held it in your hand as Eddie took a long swig of his beer. “Oh fuck,” Eddie exclaimed, “I forgot to cheers you,” he held his beer out in front of him. 

Your bottles softly clinked together, and after you pulled yours back, you took a small sip. 

“Ready?” Eddie asked. You wordlessly nodded, but Eddie wouldn’t accept it, “look at me,” he commanded softly, when you made eye contact with him, he continued, “I can’t stop once we start. Unless you want a fucked up tattoo.” He chuckled softly. 

“I’m ready,” you said. Eddie nodded and grabbed a pillow. It wasn’t the sturdiest surface, but it worked so that your arm was elevated in front of you. 

The noise of the tattoo gun was louder than the music that played from the back of the house when Eddie turned it on. Eddie locked one of his hands around your upper wrist, just above where the tattoo would be placed. It was like you were holding hands. 

“Will you judge me if my hands get sweaty?” You asked, and Eddie chuckled. Eddie moved his hand up and adjusted his grip, now you were actually holding hands. 

You were proud of yourself for not flinching when the needle came in contact with your skin. It hurt, but it wasn’t the wrost pain in the world. 

When Eddie finished one line of the wing, he stopped and looked up, “okay?” He asked, looking at you through his lashes. 

“Yeah,” you responded, “feels kinda good.”

“Yeah?” Eddie asked, a slow smile spreading across his face. “I’ll be right back,” Eddie said, using your knee to push himself up. 

Eddie returned shortly after he left, this time hold a few paper towels and a clear cup of water. When he sat back down and continued your tattoo, your knees came back into contact. 

You didn’t watch the process of your tattoo, instead you would go from watching Eddie’s hand in yours and Eddie’s face. He had an intense look on concentration as he worked and what would pull your gaze from his face would be when his fingers would run back and forth over the skin of your hand in comfort. 

“Almost done,��� Eddie said quietly, almost too quiet to be heard over the music and the noise of the gun. He picked up one of the paper towels and dipped it in the cup of water and used it to wipe away the blood on your wrist. Something about Eddie carefully wiping away the blood on your skin made a weird feeling stir inside you. 

You took a slow sip from your beer as he continued on. 

After a few more minutes of work, he stopped with the line work and started the shading process. This was more painful than the line work, painful enough that you accidentally let out a low hiss. 

“Almost done,” Eddie continued on until the bat was completely filled in, but the grip he hand on your hand tightened, running his fingers over the skin to help you through the pain. He wiped away the blood one more time, and then it was done. 

Eddie left for a third time, and while he was gone, you held up your wrist to look at your new tattoo. A smile lit up your face as you looked at it, and when Eddie came back and sat down and you looked up at him, he had a matching smile on his face. 

“I love it,” you said. 

“Good,” Eddie said softly. He grabbed your wirst and pulled it towards him to put on the ointment and then a bandage. 

“What do I owe you?” You asked after he was done bandaging it. 

Eddie sat in thought for a long moment before he asked softly, “a kiss? Please?”

Wide eyed, you nodded, and Eddie answered you with his own nod. Eddie moved from the table to beside of you, his leg pressed to yours. 

You moved in first, and pressed a kiss to cheek. You pulled back only by a small amount and opened your eyes. Eddie’s eyes were big and brown this up close, and they looked from your eyes to your lips. This time, it was Eddie who moved in to press his lips to yours. 

When the kiss ended, Eddie pulled back and raised your bandaged wrist up to his mouth and pressed a soft kiss to the bandage, “you did so good,” Eddie whispered. 

The muscles in your skin jumped at the press of his lips, it made your skin ache. “Just one kiss?” You asked. 

Eddie chuckled softly and lowered your hand into his lap where he tangled his fingers with yours. He moved back in and the two of you kissed and kissed and kissed until you were breathless and Eddie felt satisfied with the payment you gave him. 

[bajisbabe]

[author’s note] I rewrote this post THREE times...

# DON’T KNOW WHY I STILL TRY, SHE WONDERS WHY

“I don’t trust nobody, not even her.”

they accidentally hit you | Yandere!Mikey, Ran, Wakasa

warnings: accidental violence, brief mention of actual violence, implied kidnap, yandere, Mikey kicking reader, Ran hitting reader, Wakasa kicking reader.

anon said: “Request for a Yandere ran, Mickey and Wakasa where they accidentally hit you? Like they accidentally slap or kicked u too hard for any reason”

song: trust nobody, love nobody the same by sagun (feat. shiloh dynasty)

— is probably beating tf out of someone who thought they could get between you two; maybe someone who came to rescue you or tried to help you escape.

— he is about to end them with that legendary kick of his, but his foot catches your jaw because you thought it would be a great idea to jump in front of whoever Mikey is beefing with in a pathetic attempt to save their miserable life.

— and Mikey is able to slow the kick just enough so that you don’t get the full force, but you still get hit as it was far too late for him to stop when you suddenly jump in front of him like that.

— and you go flying.

— like you’re literally knocked off of your fucking feet.

— and he watches your body crumple on the floor as you land.

— you let out a lil’ yelp as you hit the ground.

— suddenly, he forgets all about the loser he’s beaten bloody and runs over to check on you.

— he kneels over you, tugging your limp body into his lap.

— he smooths back your hair, rubbing his thumbs over your temples as he softly calls your name.

— and when you don’t respond, he gets panicked and begins calling your name louder and louder until you answer with a groggy, “what?”

— he gets so angry at himself that he has to take it out on something, or rather someone.

— so he moves as though he is going to go back to kicking ass, but you weakly tug at his wrist and beg him not to.

— and he sees how weak and vulnerable you are at the moment, and how you’re begging him so sweetly for someone else’s life.

— he hesitates, but in the end, he gives up and leaves that person alone. even though he has already given them the beating of a lifetime.

— and he does his best to help you get somewhere safe where you can be treated without alerting the authorities of course.

— he feels really guilty about it and keeps apologizing.

— and if you ask him not to go after that person again, in this moment, when the guilt is eating him alive, he won’t.

— but only if you ask him now, while he still feels like shit about how things ended up.

— he’s not as smart as people give him credit for.

— he really is quite a brute.

— he swings on kids with bricks and batons in parking lots for fun.

— he is most likely testing out his new weapon, whatever it may be.

— maybe a brand new shiny, steel bat that’s sole purpose is to beat in the faces of anyone who tries to take you away from him.

— he had it custom made to ensure that it’s got the right weight to it.

— and he is just swinging it about when you happen to pop up out of nowhere.

— maybe you had heard all the swooshing and just wanted to see what was up.

— but you happen to come too close and Ran doesn’t even see you, having way too much fun testing out his new weapon.

— and Ran is just swinging, swinging, swinging.

— and then he turns and you’re right fucking there. but it’s too late to stop it.

— luckily enough for you, he is able to lift his hand just enough so that his fist hits you rather than the bat.

— but it still hurts.

— you’re not necessarily knocked off your feet, but you get hit and become dizzy.

— your legs give out and you fall to your knees, cheek aching.

— he immediately collapses to kneel in front of you, hands hovering in front of you.

— he’s too afraid to touch you. he thinks he might hurt you again.

— “sorry.” he blurts, mouth dry.

— this means a lot because Ran never apologizes.

— but he feels so fucking sorry.

— your eyes are glossy, your lower lip pulled between your teeth as you fight back tears.

— I don’t blame you. I KNOW that shit hurt 🤕

— “I’m sorry,” he blurts again. “Can I—is it okay if I—uhm, what do you want me to…?”

— He can’t figure out what to do or how to help you.

— he feels like shit, and he thinks you’re gonna hate him even more now.

— you just sniffle, taking a deep breath as you blink back tears.

— “can I… Is it okay if I…?” His hands jolt as though he’s trying to stop himself from touching you.

— he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable. He doesn’t want to see you scared, or see you flinch.

— and you don’t really have much of a choice because he might have broken something in your face and you need some kind of help, so you take him up on his unsaid offer.

— you nod softly, swallowing a sob as your cheek aches painfully.

— he slowly tugs you into his arms, soothing his large hands over your back.

— he cups your face gently in his hands and tilts your face to get a better look.

— your eyes are stinging as he asks you where exactly it hurts.

— “Sorry,” he murmurs again. “I’ll get Rindou to check on you,” he says. “He’s good with medical shit.”

— actually thinks you look rather nice when crying but won’t mention it because he can read the room.

— coddles you and calls you all kinds of nicknames.

— “baby, I’m sorry.” / “it won’t happen again, sweetheart.” / “I didn’t mean to, honey.”

— sits there while Rindou patches you up, holding your hand (if you let him) and telling you that you’re doing so good whenever you clutch his hand hard or when you squeeze your eyes shut in pain.

— promises to buy you whatever you want to fix it.

— even if you insist that you don’t want anything, he’ll still get you something.

— probably still tells you that he’s sorry under his breath.

— he is so pressed about the situation that he doesn’t even use the shiny, steel bat he bought.

— it’s expensive and custom made, and he’s not gonna use it at all solely because he almost hit you with it.

— he thought you were someone else.

— when he heard someone creeping out of the hideout, he assumed it was an outsider who stumbled across the place and was trying to escape.

— and his reflexes are fast.

— so without thinking, he clocks you upside the head from behind.

— he most likely noticed that it was you he was about to hit but by then, it was too late to stop.

— but he doesn’t even try to hold back or slow the punch at all.

— he lets you take it full force.

— you are quite literally knocked off your fucking feet.

— and when you hit the ground, you’re gasping for air because you’re winded thanks to the impact of the fall.

— and he just peers over you, watching you with that resting bitch face of his.

— he doesn’t even apologize.

— he quietly asks you where you were going, knowing damn well you can’t respond because you cannot breathe.

— and he doesn’t help either.

— he just watches you sputter for air.

— your ribs could be broken.

— and if you get upset and scream about how he could have hurt you, he’ll just shrug and say that he pulled the kick so that you wouldn’t get hurt as bad.

— liar. 😔

— if you need any kind of patching up, he will help.

— but he will probably have something backhanded to say about how if you didn’t try to escape then this wouldn’t have happened.

— is a lil’ insensitive.

— your body is probably sore and aching and he doesn’t even care.

— might purposefully run his hands over the place where he knows it’ll hurt most just to watch your pretty face contort with subtle pain.

— might even take his fingers and dig them into the sensitive skin that suffered from the impact just to see if you’ll yell or cry.

— he finds you interesting and wants to see you make as many expressions as possible.

— expressions of pain are not excluded.

— would be a lil’ hurt if you flinched away from him after the whole ordeal.

— but he isn’t stupid, he could understand why you’d fear him. he just can’t find it in himself to care.

— not that he would intentionally hurt you.

— but if it happens, if happens 🤷🏾‍♀️

— might feel guilty if you show that you’re genuinely upset.

— if you want him to stop poking and prodding at your bruises, you’re gonna have to cry.

— he might go easy on you then, but that’s a might, not a will.

[erodasfishtacos]

Is this seat empty? " Yes and this one will be too if you sit down" , "Don't be like that my love."

For MLB!Harry first stupid fight in a relationship 😂

Okay this turned into something entirely different then the prompt. Sorry anon 😂

—

Peace & Quiet (Please)

If you enjoy please like, reblog, comment, or come talk to me!

I write for free so if you enjoy my work please consider donating to my kofi page.

-

“Where d’you put m’protein mix?” Harry asks, padding into the kitchen and opening every single fucking cabinet.

“It’s in the same place it’s been for the past five years,” YN bites out with a slight irritation, mixing the pancake batter a little rougher.

She’s been up since three in the morning and Harry sauntered in around six-thirty after coming home late from a baseball game last night.

All the babies still asleep.

“Ah - fuck,” Her husband huffs when he spills the powder all over the countertop and floor she had just swiffered ten minutes ago.

When he goes to open the other cabinet and grab for a shaker bottle - they all come tumbling out onto the floor in a loud clash.

“Could you be any louder? You going to wake up the kids!” YN scolds harshly, pointing to the closet, “Go get the swiffer.”

He obliges - surprised by her attitude, grabbing it and slapping it (by accident) on the ground like a fucking baseball bat, the head of the mop snapping off and breaking.

“S’broken,” Harry states the obvious, shrugging and going about peeling a banana before leaving the peel near the sink.

YN turns to face him, voice irritated, “I’m about to break you, just like you broke the swiffer.”

“Is that a threat or a promise?” He asks cheekily but her glare tells him there is no amusement to be had this morning.

“I just spent all morning cleaning and you’ve made this place a disaster already!” His wife bites before flipping one of the pancakes.

Harry dejectedly cleans up his protein mix mess, neatly places the shake bottles into the right place, throws away the peel, and closes all the cabinets.

“M’sorry,” He murmurs, coming up behind her and kisses the nape of her neck, “Y’seem a bit cranky this mornin’.”

And man. He should have not said that.

“Do you have a baby who needs to fucking feed from your body every hour even during the night? I don’t think so,” She mutters, shaking him off of her.

“Hey, mama. M’bein’ an ass, what can I do to help?” He changes gears, choosing to stand next to her since she didn’t seem to want to be touch.

“Breastfeed - let your nipples feel like their constantly on fire and about to fall off. Make all this post-partum bleeding stop. Let me sleep for a day straight. I don’t know,” YN begins to sniffles, plating a few mini pancakes.

He’s taken aback, eyebrows furrowing in concern, and he leans forward to flip off the stovetop, “Can I touch you?”

She nods, wiping her eyes, and allows him to haul her up into their marble countertop, “Mama, y’need to tell me when y’feeling overwhelmed? Please baby. I’ve asked you a million times to wake me up and I can bottle feed her.”

“No, she…I have to feed her. It helps bonding and it-“

Harry interrupts firmly, “She will be perfectly fine being fed by a bottle a few times a day. You’re putting too much stress on yourself.”

Her head falls on his shoulder and she mumbles, “I just feel so…gross, not attractive at all.”

He pulls her back, searching her face in confusion, “Baby, why would you ever say somethin’ like that?”

YN let’s out a quiet sob, “My nipples are chafed and sore, I’m constantly bleeding, my belly hasn’t deflated -“

Harry can’t help but lean in and connect their lips harshly, he’s pulling her loose shirt up and over her head.

“Harry, what-“

“Listen t’me,” Harry rasps seriously, his hands are tender and careful as they cup her swollen breasts - thumbing at her painful nubs.

“I’m literally obsessed w’your tits, baby. They’ll go back to normal after y’done feeding and even if they don’t - I love them just as fucking much. You fed our three healthy strong boys and now you’re makin’ sure our chunky little girl is eating good.”

Then he hands move to cup her belly, large hands splayed over the still softening, firm bump from where Briar had been housed for nine months.

“Y’gave me four, four fuckin’ babies from this belly. I’m fucking in love with your body. God, y’thighs, y’tummy, the stretchmarks - fuck, getting me hard just lookin’ at you.”

It was true, he was stiffening up in his shorts but neither of them acknowledged it - it was a love boner more than anything else.

He literally got hard from how much he loved her.

“I’m tired,” She sighs softly, letting Harry tug her shirt back on as the children would be waking up soon to eat breakfast.

“I know, mama,” Harry acknowledges softly, giving her another kiss before taking over the pancake station.

-

When all the boys are downstairs and chomping away on their food, Cash, who is just about four decides it’ll be funny to squirt the sticky syrup all over their expensive stool cushions and the floor.

When YN turns from the sink to see the mess, she admits she snaps a little bit, “Really Harry? You’re supposed to be watching them, not checking the sports news on your phone!”

Harry is about to defend himself but his wife is stomping over to where Cash has emptied the bottle and gives him a firm look, “Cash Edward Styles, get your bum upstairs, right now.”

Cash’s eyes widen, his mother rarely needed to use a harsh tone with them, “Mama, I’m so-“

“If you are not upstairs, by the bathtub this instant, you get no outside time today. Do you understand me?” YN tells him, giving Easton a warning look when he licks at the syrup on his finger.

“Yes mama,” Cash squeaks out sadly, abandoning his plate and walking up towards the bathroom upstairs to get clean.

Easton and Ezra are dead silent as they watch their brother leave - not wanting the same fate as him so they sit proper.

“Sweetheart-“ Harry begins, putting his phone back in his pocket.

“No, I have my hands full taking care of four kids. I don’t need you acting like a fifth. Go bathe your son,” YN tells him coldly, an angry stare directed his way.

Harry clenches his jaw, biting his tongue as he stands up and pushes his chair in with force - making a loud noise before following after his second son.

A few minutes after they’re out of sight, Easton thought it’d be funny to wipe syrup down Ezra’s cheek which made Ezra cry and throw a pancake at his older brother - now soaking him in syrup.

YN starts to leak milk at the sound of Ezra’s cries.

“Easton Robin - get you butt upstairs this instant too. You know better - no outside time today,” She informs him as she uses a wet wipe to clean Ezra’s cheek.

“Mama,” Easton whines, fat tears starting roll down his cheeks as he stands up, loitering by the kitchen stool.

“Do not make me repeat myself,” YN warns, swiping a paper towel over the wet spot on her shirt from the leak.

-

Harry had just started washing up Cash who was still melancholy when his blubbering older one comes in - still tearful.

He sighs, looking at his syrupy son, “Wha’ happened?”

Easton looks hesitant, “I put syrup on Ezzie and mama said no outside time today.”

His father is tight-lipped, he can already predict that Easton’s actions upset Ezra, “Alright, c’mon. Let’s clean y’up too. Y’know better, Easton.”

-

Harry had just finished helping both boys dress when YN appears in the doorway with Ezra who has a binkie popped in his mouth.

She steps over and hands their son to Harry before muttering, “I’m going to feed Briar, keep the boys out of the room. I need some peace.”

YN disappears from the room before he can even reply to her.

-

Harry can admit he gets distracted when one of his coaches calls him up for a game change, doesn’t notice when Cash sneaks from the playroom.

It’s less than five minutes later when YN leads Cash gently by the hand back into the playroom, with Briar still latched and feeding.

When she sees Harry on his phone, she’s fucking livid with him.

“Really Harry?” His wife scoffs, guiding Cash to join Easton in where he’s playing with legos.

“I’ll call you back,” Harry replies to his coach before hanging up, “Sorry, it was Donny-“

“Good to know your job is more important than watching your kids,” She spits out before storming back out of the room.

Harry is up and following behind her, jaw clenched and irritated, “Just ‘cause you’re in a pissy mood doesn’t mean that y’say shit like that.”

She turns on her heel, eyes fiery, “You have no god damn consideration. You’ve been swamped this week because of your nike promotion and games. I’ve had the babies all by myself for four nights while you get to gallivant around!”

Harry goes to speak but she puts her free hand up.

“I ask for you to keep our house clean and to let me have one moment of peace with our daughter but you don’t even let me have that! You do not understand how hard it is to push a baby out of you and then have them rely on you to feed them twenty times a day!”

His anger fades when his wife starts sobbing - chest shuddering sobs, “I just had her four weeks ago. I-I haven’t had a break yet. You act like it’s so easy!”

He starts to walk towards her, “Sweetheart-“

YN shakes her head, a desperate plea in her tone, “Please just give me time with Briar.”

Harry swallows harshly and nods - feeling like shit as his wife walks back towards the stairs - all the while still feeding their daughter.

-

“Hello?”

“Mum, I-can you take the boys for the night?” Harry asks quietly, standing in the kitchen while the two older boys are still playing quietly.

Ezra’s passed out, on Harry’s hip with his little face smushed against the cap of his shoulder with parted lips.

“Dear, is everything okay?” She replies cautiously.

“No, I-I don’t know. YN is overwhelmed and I don’t think I’ve been supportive enough,” Harry feels himself begin to sniffle.

Anne doesn’t pry for information which Harry loves about her, she agrees to take them, and states she’ll be over within the hour.

Harry goes about packing their pajamas and other necessities in their little backpacks as the squeal excitedly about going to Nana’s.

“Can we say bye to mama?” Easton asks anxiously as they clear out of their bedrooms.

“Let me go ask,” He murmurs, running a hand through his son’s curls.

When he cracks open the door, YN is sprawled out on her back, fast asleep with Briar also asleep in the bassinet next to the bed.

His heart aches because her shirt is off, and the remnants of her nipple cream which was a pinkish orange color wasn’t fully rubbed in on her bruised breasts.

Harry guides them downstairs, promising that their mama will call them later.

-

After the boys leave, Harry doesn’t know what to do so he cleans whatever he finds that is dirty or messy so she won’t have to.

He does all the laundry in the house, cleans up every single toy, and when Briar starts to whimper - he sneaks in to snatch her up so she doesn’t wake YN.

Then he takes her out to the shops with him to grab groceries, her favorite snacks, and maybe he does stop by a jewelry store and buy her something nice.

(casually a pair of 20k earrings)

YN fell asleep around eighty-thirty in the morning and doesn’t wake up until about nine at night, Harry had put Briar in her nursery about an hour ago.

When she does awake, Harry is sitting in the living room - watching a stupid action movie to pass time and dwell on everything.

She comes in quietly, stands in front of her husband who looks up at her with anxious eyes - she looks brighter now that she’s had adequate sleep.

“Will you hold me?” She rasps quietly, just in one of Harry’s shirts and soft pair of sleep shorts.

“Never haven t’ask, mama,” He murmurs, guiding her until she’s straddling his lap and burying her face into the crook of his neck.

His hands sneak beneath her shirt to massage the sleep-warm skin as he kisses her shoulder - over and over again.

“I’m so sorry,” YN whispers into his skin, voice croaky as she tries to not get upset.

He pulls her back to study her face, “Do not apologize, y’allowed to get mad at me and feel frustrated. You’re emotions are valid. There’s a lot going on and I could be doing more to help.”

YN wipes a tear that trickles down as she laughs in disbelief, “No, you can’t do anymore to help.”

“Wha-? I can, I promis-“

She interrupts his with a kiss before telling him sincerely, “You can’t do anymore help because you’re already doing the most amazing job. As a husband and dad. I was just tired and stressed - it’s not an excuse.”

It warms his heart, he fucking loves her so much it does make sense, has to button their lips together one more time.

“You have a really hard job too, on top of being a husband and dad. You give us all this, support us and take care of us.”

“Are y’kidding me? Y’the one who keeps this family together. Y’the fuckin’ love of my life, you know that? I love you so much, so so much,” He emphasizes, rubbing a thumb across her bottom lip.

The kiss one more time - the anger was subsided and they were okay once again.

Harry laughs and agree when YN murmurs, “S’time for bed again, m’tired.”

“Okay mama, anythin’ for you,” He responds before peppering her in kisses to make her giggle lightly.

[dameronology]

6 from the angst prompts with frank please🤲🏾

frank castle + 6) "why does my mind go back to when you used to hold me?"

ok. i'm gonna be real with you. this started by following the prompt, then it...it went somewhere else entirely. but we move.

You should have been happy in your lover's arms.

Anyone else in the world would have been fucking elated; wrapped up in a blanket on the sofa with a five-foot-eleven guy, with his ginger tousled hair and broad arms. Your first date together had been a favour to your sister, but you'd never found a reason to stop seeing him. After all, he looked after you. Texting you to make sure you got home safe, bringing you lunch at work, fixing your broken kitchen cabinet in your shitty little apartment. He was nice. Too nice. He was a sensible t-shirt made out of husband material.

So what did that make Frank Castle? The leather jacket that your parents had forbade you from buying? The stupidly ripped jeans that made your relatives ask dId yOu bUy tHeM lIke tHat?

But truthfully, there was no stupid, cliche metaphor for Frank Castle. He was absolutely indescribable; a walking contradiction, a fucking confusion. He was rough and soft and giving and taking all at once. He stole the air from the lungs and breathed it right back into you; stole the show, but never came out from behind the curtains. He'd ruined your life for twelve straight months and yet, you looked back on that year as the best time of your life.

Frank was gone now - gone to the wind, wherever his next crime took him. You still thought of him, though. Constantly. About how your new boyfriend's arms didn't hold you as tight; about how his hair was a lot softer than Frank's, and didn't scratch you in the same way his did whenever he buried his head in your neck. His hands weren't as large and protective. He didn't make you black coffee every morning - oat lattes and fancy cappuccinos, yeah. But not the shitty, sugarless crap that Frank served to you in a chipped Coney Island mug every day at 7AM. The new guy cared enough to walk you home, but not enough to elbow his way into your apartment at 3AM because he'd heard sirens four blocks away and panicked. Frank Castle had had a weird way of loving you - and now, everyone else's attempts at it paled in comparison.

Like I said before - anyone else would have been infatuated with the new man sat beside you. Admittedly, you'd only found one problem with him.

He wasn't Frank.

"I'm just going to make some tea," you said. "I'll be back in a second."

The auburn man looked at you. "Should I pause the movie?"

"It's okay, I've seen it before," you forced a smile.

Shrugging off the blanket, you stood up and stalked through to the kitchen. It was a separate room from your living area - Frank had always given you spiel about how cramped it felt. But the minute you spotted a pair of combat boots on the fire escape? You were just thankful for the privacy it now gave you from the man you should have been falling in love with.

Hopping up on the counter, you slid open the window and stuck one leg out onto the metal stairs. Frank naturally leant forward to help you, a large handing wrapping around your wrist and pulling you up. The sky was pitch black, lit only by the starry facade of the Lower East Side. Hell's Kitchen was beautiful from this angle - probably because the man who constantly tore it to pieces was stood on your fire escape.

"You look like shit," you greeted him. It was true; his hair was cropped and neat, and he was clean shaven like usual, but there was a fucking massive shiner on his left eye.

"So do you," Frank shot back. "Who the fuck does that t-shirt belong to?"

"None of your business," you said.

"It belongs to your ginger friend, doesn't it?" he deduced. "What's his name?"

"Again - none of your business."

"Fine. I'll just call him Ron, then."

"Okay, Frank," you huffed. "Why are you turning up on my fire escape at 1AM and giving me spiel about Harry Potter?"

"I was just checking in," he shrugged. "Am I not allowed to do that anymore?"

"No."

"Fine," he held his hands up in defence. "But I know you're thinking about me."

"I'm not thinking about you," you countered. "In fact, the first person I think of when I hear the name Frank is Frank Reynolds from It's Always Sunny In Philadelphia."

"You're a terrible liar, sweetheart," he reminded you.

"It's true. I really love Danny Devito-"

You abruptly stopped talking when Frank grabbed you by the waist, pulling you towards him. Your lips crashed against his - warm and familiar and chapped - in a passionate kiss. Time might as well have fucking stopped in that moment. It was a feeling you'd craved for so long; begged for, prayed to every god you believed in and even those you didn't.

"You love me more," Frank murmured. "More than the man inside."

"Frank," you murmured.

"Just say it," he pushed. "I know you love me - not him."

"Is that why you came back?" you asked. "Because you were worried I'd found someone else?"

"I came back because I missed you," he confessed.

"You went upstate to get away from all this," you half-heartedly gestured to the city below.

"And I came back for all this," he gestured to you with a large hand. "It's nothing to do with you being with someone else. It doesn't mean I don't want to left hook the guy for putting his hands on you, but..."

Frank trailed off. You, meanwhile, were still in disbelief. It had taken so much effort to move on; to force his remaining belongings into a box under your bed. Even more so to let another man in to said bed.

In a swift movement, he'd taken off his hoodie and pulled it over your shoulders. The zip was done up in mere seconds, thick hood pulled over your head. It smelt of Frank - domestic Frank, not I've gone bat-crap crazy on a gang in the middle of the night and come back looking like the prom scene in Carrie Frank. It was a mixture of cheap laundry detergent and a little of his spicy aftershave. He rarely wore the stuff, but you deducted he probably put it on for tonight. What kind of fucking weirdo put on expensive aftershave just to creep around on his former lover's balcony? Frank. The answer was Frank. Just...quintessentially him.

"You really hate the look of me in his clothes, huh?" you teased.

"You looked cold," Frank lied. "Does Ron give you his hoodies?"

"He'd give me his damn wardrobe if I asked."

He snorted. "Yeah, okay. I'm glad to see you that you still enjoy dancing around important conversations-"

"- you know I love you, Frank," you cut him off. "But I'm not skipping into the fucking sunset with you at 1AM when it's freezing as shit outside. Especially not when there's a man on my couch, who thinks I'm making a cup of tea when I'm actually kissing a man out on the fire escape."

"I love you too," Frank gave you a lopsided grin, completely ignoring the second half of what you said. "I'll come back in the morning."

"Yeah, okay," you pressed another kiss to his jaw. "See you then."

You slipped your hands away from Frank's, sliding your legs back through the window and onto the kitchen counter. Leaping off the side, you shut the window and reached to turn on the kettle - you did have the whole cup of tea lie to keep up with.

And with a smile on your face, you reached for the chipped Coney Island mug on your shelf.

[soulmate-game]

Not related to the other two Bio!mom Harley AUs that I did. Just... similar. I wrote this instead of sleeping, as per the usual.

—*—*—*—*—*

“I need your help.”

No accent, no threats of violence, no beating around the bush (figurative or otherwise). No fighting or unconscious bodies.

Just Harley Quinn with her hair down, no makeup, and completely serious, in the center of the Bat Cave. Even though her usual exaggerated Brooklynn accent (circa 1950s) had become a pretty inseparable part of her personality over the years, every now and then she forcibly stuffed it down and used her mostly unaccented voice. The one reminiscent of days with less colors on her face, a high bun, and a pristine white lab coat.

Every single one of the Bats and Birds present, fresh from an interrupted patrol thanks to her, could count the number of times they had seen Harley like this on one hand. Bruce would have the most recollections, but everyone else would have plenty of fingers left on said hand. So they all knew, especially when Bruce willingly pulled down his cowl so he could look Harley in the eye, that this was the start of something they were not likely to forget. And maybe their chances of survival were slim too.

“Harley,” Bruce’s voice was still gruff, seeing as he was still mostly Batman at the moment, but his eyes were soft. “Maybe you should tell us what you need help with first. And sit down. You look exhausted.”

Sure enough, there were dark circles under Harley’s eyes. She let Bruce-man lead her over to one of their debriefing tables and sit her down. She let out a huge sigh, her fingers tangling in her loose blond locks.

“I have a confession, and it isn’t gonna leave this cave, capiche?” The slight return of her accent relieved a little of the tension, but not much. Taking this as their cue, the rest of the bats spread out into their usual seats at the table. Bruce stayed near Harley, keeping a hand on her shoulder in silent support. Harley didn’t continue talking until he gave her a solemn nod in agreement. She gulped— an action that immediately returned the tension.

“... fifteen years ago, back when I was still with Joker, I disappeared off the Gotham scene for a few months. I’m sure a few of you remember,” she looked up, and a couple of the older vigilantes nodded. Really, Jason has still been Robin back then. But the memory stuck out in his head now that he was thinking about it.

“Yeah, you were breaking away from him a little bit, which was weird at the time,” Red Hood mused aloud, arms crossed. “I think you helped us out a couple times and did some of your first team ups with Ivy before you vanished. Then a few months go by and you were back in action with Joker, so we mostly ignored it as you just being you.”

Harley nodded. “Ah, my Ivy’s a lifesaver, even back then. She helped cover up the timeline by keeping me in action for longer than I should’a been without putting me at too much risk.”

“Timeline…” Red Robin spoke up, eyes huge even behind his mask. “You don’t mean—“

“Harley,” Bruce breathed, having also caught on. “You were pregnant?”

The air went still. Harley sniffed, eyes watering even as she smiled.

“Oh yeah. Shouldn’t have been possible, ya know? Me ‘n Joker being dumped in that damn acid should have made us both more sterile than an operatin’ room. But I knew I couldn’t raise a kid, so after she was born—“

“You kept her?” Damian interrupted, earning a gentle cuff over the head from Dick. Harley just snorted.

“Yeah. Not gonna lie, I thought about abortion. But the baby didn’t do nothin’ wrong, and I was still in love with Joker back then so I was ecstatic that I was able to make something new with part ‘a him in it. Still, I knew a baby didn’t deserve to be raised in Gotham. Especially not my baby, not with my enemies and history. Not with who her father was. I knew he’d never want her, never let me keep her. So I spent the last five months of my pregnancy lookin’ around for the best possible family to take her in. And I found them in Paris, France. A sweet couple, both of them bakers. Sabine, she’s both adorably sweet and super kickass. Comes from a Chinese family that is crazy about teachin’ their women martial arts. But nothing shady about it, I triple checked. Just bonding through kicking people in the face. Which is perfect, I wanted my baby to know how to defend herself. I knew she’d need those skills eventually. And Tom, that’s Sabine’s wife, he’s a gentle giant. Same size as Bane, but as harmless as a puppy and makes the best croissants ever. Seriously, the best.”

“Harley,” Bruce gently prodded, but there was a tiny grin on his face. Seeing her behaving so… so normally, so proud and reminiscent, was a rare treat. Bruce would be lying if he said he wasn’t proud of how far the woman had come. How she had freed herself and become a better person, mostly on her own.

“Right, right. The point,” Harley took a breath, rubbing her forehead. “I came clean to Tom and Sabine, but apparently they knew who I was the whole time. They just didn’t care— did I mention they are perfect? Anyway, once I explained everything, they agreed immediately to adopting my baby. They’d been wanting kids, but it would’a been too risky for Sabine’s health. That’s how I found them anyway, they were in the market to adopt. We named her Marinette. She took Tom and Sabine’s last names, hyphenated. We decided Quinn would be her middle name. And after that, I came back to Gotham and told myself that she was in good hands and I needed to forget about her. Cuz I was no good for her. I knew that. I went back to my old tricks. And then…” Harley chuckled, but it was self-depreciating.

“Then a few years passed, and I started breaking away from Joker for real. Then we broke up, I blew up Ace Chemicals while you guys were outta town doing Justice League and Young Justice shit. I started dating Ivy. And—“ she smiled softly at the table, clearly seeing something the rest of them couldn’t. “Then Ivy convinced me to go see her. Visit my baby, see how she’s been. And I did. Marinette was seven years old, but damn it to hell she was gorgeous. And say whatever you want about me and Joker— most of it will even be true— but neither of us are stupid. And she inherited all of our intelligence. All of it. She got my blue eyes. But she got his hair, which meant Sabine teased me relentlessly about ‘are you sure she isn’t that Wayne’s kid?’ And don’t make that face Bruce, you’d be lucky to have a kid half as beautiful as my Mari-pie. No offense, Damian. Anyway. Anyway, this is the important part. Or part of it.

“She sat there and listened to everything I had to say. Everything. A little seven year old, who could barely understand English at the time, and she listened without interrupting once. She never threw a fit, she wasn’t angry or confused. I told her about the things I’d done in the past— well, G rated versions— and she didn’t care. She called me Momma Harley right away, said she wanted to meet Aunt Ivy sometime soon, and started telling me everything about her that I’d missed. From that day on, she became my sunshine. The light of my life, and I still call her at least once a week every week. When I disappear for a few days out of the city? I’m visiting her—“

“You’re banned from international travel, Harley,” Dick scolded, but he sounded way too amused for it to work. He knew she had her ways, anyway. Nobody could actually stop Harley damn Quinn from doing whatever she wanted.

“—Ugh, she tells me the same thing every time! Disappointed glare and everything. I don’t know how I gave birth to such a goodie goodie, but somehow I did. Not important though! The important thing is, I’m always the first to hear when something new happens in her life. And we had decided that she wouldn’t visit me in Gotham until she was at least eighteen, but apparently she disobeyed me— which I should have expected honestly— and entered you guys’ WE international scholastic competition.”

“Oh no,” Bruce pinched the bridge of her nose. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng? The contest winner?” He finally pulled out a chair and sat down. “The winner gets an all-expense paid trip to Gotham for them and their whole class.”

“Exactly!” Harley threw up her hands. “Mari told me last week, and I’ve been trying to talk her out of coming ever since. But she’s inherited both of our stubbornness too, and she isn’t budgin’ a bit. ‘Momma Harley, I wanna see you and Auntie Ivy though!’ And ‘Momma, Gotham’s nothing I can’t handle,’ or my favorite, ‘Maybe you’ll finally get to see me dropkick someone three times my size then, and I’ll prove it.’”

“So that’s what you meant by you need our help,” Tim said as he leaned forward over the table. “Joker just broke out of Arkham yesterday. You want us to protect her.”

“I’d prefer if one of you was with her outside of the mask too, as often as possible,” Harley confirmed. “I can’t stop her from coming here anymore, but I also don’t trust Joker for a second. As soon as he sees her, I’m afraid he’ll make the connection.”

“She looks like him?” Damian asked, scrunching up his nose at the ugly mental image of Joker as a teenage girl. Harley shook her head, solemn.

“She looks like a dark-haired mini-me,” she corrected. “She even keeps her hair in pigtails as her way of showing support for me. And I know Marinette can kick ass, Sabine’s trained her well. But Marinette inherited more than I’d like from me,” Harley ran a hand through her hair. “I didn’t notice it until she was thirteen. She got a crush on a classmate, and it was almost like watching videos of me back during the early days of— well, of Harley Quinn. Just without the crime and insanity. She didn’t even realize that she was almost stalking the poor kid until I pointed it out, and luckily I was able to put my doctorate to good use and we nipped that right in the bud ASAP. She never meant it that way, anyway. As soon as I explained things to her, she was horrified and immediately asked me to help her learn how to have a healthy relationship. That was a fun discussion,” Harley grimaced. “But she still gets attached to people really, really easily. Once she grew out of her crush on that boy, she adopted him as her unofficial brother. She already calls Selina “Auntie,” even though I’ve barely mentioned her to Marinette. She gets attached fast, and deeply. And I’m afraid that even after all the warning I’ve done, all the stories I’ve told her—“

“You’re afraid she’ll get attached to Joker just like you did,” Bruce finished for her, closing his eyes. “Because she knows he’s her father.”

“Yes,” Tears were slowly dripping down her face already, her hands curled into fists so tightly that her knuckles were paper white. “You know how he is. If he finds out she’s his biological daughter, he’ll immediately try to take advantage of that. And he’s far too good with his words for people like me and Mari. I’m worried outta my mind. Please. Help keep my baby safe from him.���

“We will,” Jason no longer had his helmet on, or the domino mask that he usually wore underneath it. All of them knew masks were merely formality with Harley nowadays. And he needed to look her directly in the eye so she could see how serious he was. “I can sign up as a bodyguard for the class. It won’t be weird, seeing as they’re tourists and this is Gotham. They also have several rich kids in their group if I remember right.”

Bruce nodded, agreeing with Jason. “That’s a good idea. I can lead the class on their tours of WE personally. That’ll serve the purpose of keeping an eye on her and shutting up the investors that keep begging me to make more public appearances for the sake of the company. Marinette’s name is already released to the news as the winner of the contest, so we can’t keep her out of the spotlight long. Tim, you’ll have to keep an eye on any and all pictures of the class. Try to erase or doctor the images with her in it well enough that connections between her and Harley can’t be easily made. Dick, you and Damian will be in charge of keeping an eye out for any activity from Joker. The slightest hint, and you notify all of us. We’ll decide on a case-by-case basis who is necessary to stick with the class and who goes after the clown.”

“She’s gonna sneak out of her hotel to stay with me and Ivy,” Harley admitted, bringing the (now slightly judgemental) attention back to her. She raised her hands up in surrender. “She didn’t tell me that, and I didn’t approve or suggest it! I just know my baby too well to not realize that that’s her plan. Could ya provide an escort?”

Bruce sighed. “This is gonna be an eventful month.”

[writertitan]

Only You

pairing: levi x reader 

word count: 2307

themes: jealous!reader, so much fluff and comfort, one could say too much fluff (but not me), angst if you squint at the beginning

requested by anon

A single, light touch of his arm and batting of lashes never affected you. Plenty of girls had done this before and were always shaken off of Levi by the man himself, almost instantly. He was always quick to draw a boundary, with women especially, if they got too close for comfort. It was the persistence of this current girl, though, that made you squirm and made you uncomfortable. Because she was good at making it lighthearted, innocent, not as brash and bold as all the others who had tried to flirt with Levi before. And if Levi had caught on to her advances, he hadn’t done a thing to ward her off. 

Granted, she was an employee, someone who was helping you both pick out a birthday gift for Hange, but you were able to read between the lines. The way she let her fingers brush with Levi’s just for a moment as she handed him a potential gift for your mutual friend, the way her smile was polite for you but beaming for Levi, the way her eyes sparkled when his own gaze landed on her, the way she was either between the two of you or next to him, but never next to you. Her praises of his taste when he looked at a new gift, her polite recognition of you when Levi would ask for your input, all of it, just all of it. You weren’t blind to it but it seemed that Levi was. It made you quiet, quieter than usual, but you couldn’t help your own unspoken behaviors that told more than words could. You were fidgeting, withdrawn, and while Levi didn’t seem to notice the girl’s advances, he did quickly tune into the fact that getting a full sentence out of you was suddenly like pulling teeth. 

Eventually, you let Levi take the lead and shrunk back from him and the girl, your heart sinking low each time she smiled at him, each time she complimented him. Your arms were folded tightly over your chest, as if to keep your heart in one piece, and you hoped that you didn’t look as uncomfortable and upset as you felt. Still, you felt your eyes squinting each time they interacted, and you felt yourself hiding into yourself, wishing you could do more than just watch.

“What do you think?” he pressed you, holding up a small apothecary box. “Four Eyes has been harping on and on about experimenting with alchemy like the crackpot she is. You think this set will be put to good use?” 

You watched as the girl blinked at you expectantly, eyes wide and innocent as she shuffled closer to Levi. 

Try as you might to try and get even a short approval out of your mouth, the words couldn’t come. They were stuck in your throat, bubbling over and dying out before you could even open your mouth. You gave Levi a shrug, and finally, a short and simple, “She’ll like it,” left your lips. Barely above a whisper. 

Levi was frustrated with you now, you could tell, but said nothing of it as he walked up to the counter to pay for the gift. You hadn’t followed him and that had spurred the employee on a little, it seemed; she was much chattier as she packaged the gift for Levi, marveling again about what a wonderful gift giver he was. It wasn’t until she handed Levi the package and set her hand on his arm for a moment too long that it seemed to click for him. 

“Come back again soon,” you heard her say. Levi said nothing to her, and said nothing to you as you both stepped out into the evening. 

                 — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Not a word had been said since leaving the shop. Levi had taken you back to his room and you sat down in a chair in the corner as you fidgeted quietly, those words still squashed and thick in your throat. Truth be told, you knew that it was a little silly. Levi would never encourage flirtatious behavior, much less reciprocate, and he may have genuinely not noticed earlier. But that had been the first time someone had blatantly disregarded you like that. That had been the first time a woman had been so shameless in her pursuit, however discreet it was. 

“Are we going to talk about it or are you going to keep moping?” Levi asked from his closet, grabbing some clothes to change into for bed. His voice cut clear into the air, cutting away at the tension that was palpable. After grabbing the clothes he’d decided on, he walked to his bed and sat on the edge, gazing at you intently. 

You blushed, huddling up in your chair more and sighing. He knew, better than most, how you preferred to show how you were feeling with your actions, your body language, rather than with actual words. In a lot of ways, Levi was exactly the same, the only difference being that he wasn’t one to shy away from confrontation when needed. 

Part of you wanted to just shrink away into nothing and try to pretend it never happened. You’d get over it. After all, you weren’t mad at Levi, weren’t even mad at the girl. You were just mad at yourself now. All of these words wanted to be blurted out, but you didn’t even know where to begin. The other part of you that didn’t want to run away from this took the lead, not giving you time to think or regret the choice to get up and sit on the edge of Levi’s bed next to him, your eyes downcast as you swallowed thickly, as if physically opening up your throat to finally speak your mind. 

“It made me uncomfortable,” you admitted to him in a quiet voice. “How the girl was acting with you, I mean. And I know it’s so silly to feel like this. Nothing happened and nothing was going to happen. I trust you completely and I’m not mad at you. I’m not mad at anybody except for myself. I’m just so upset that I let it get to me, and I’m even more upset that I still don’t know how to speak my mind like you can. I also just...don’t want to seem like a crazed and possessive partner, but I’ll admit that I got jealous. I’m sorry.” 

And there you were, rambling away, hoping that what you were saying was even coherent. 

When Levi didn’t answer right away, you looked up from your lap to see that he actually looked taken aback, like he hadn’t expected that to be your response. He scoffed your name moments later, back to his usual self, but you saw the softness in his eyes as he gazed at you. 

“I didn’t realize what she was up to until the end,” he said, reaching over to place a hand on your thigh. “You know if I’d caught on earlier, I would have put a stop to it.” 

“I know,” you said lamely, gazing at him from under your lashes. “I’m sorry for getting jealous. It was just...the first time it had happened like that. She just didn’t stop.” 

Much to your chagrin, your words elicited a small smirk from Levi. 

“Stop apologizing. You have nothing to be sorry for,” he said to you, willingly letting you lean into him. “The one who should apologize is the snotty girl who honestly wasn’t even that helpful. I’m surprised you were jealous of her.”

“Huh?” You lifted your head up from your place on his shoulder to look at him. “Why surprised?” 

Levi returned your gaze steadily, raising a brow as if it were so obvious and you weren’t getting it. 

“Because there was no contest. There never is. I don’t give a shit about anybody but you.”

Oh. 

Instantly you were blushing, your heart sputtering out of control. It wasn’t often that Levi admitted things like that, but when he did, it always caught you off guard. He always said things so bluntly and so decisively. 

He only had eyes for you. Though you already knew that, it was nice to hear it, and it washed away the remnants of the jealousy still stirring through you. 

Again, you couldn’t find the words. Only this time, it was for a good reason, a positive thing. Left speechless by Levi yet again. You took your preferred route of speaking your feelings through actions, and leaned in to press a grateful kiss into his mouth, your hand reaching up to comb back his hair from his face. 

“You know that no one compares to you, either, right?” you asked against his lips, slowly pulling back to gaze at him. 

“Of course,” he snorted, squeezing your thigh before getting up. “I’m making us some tea before bed. Be back soon.” 

You stood and got changed for bed, greeting Levi with a tight-lipped smile when he returned with a tray filled with your teacups, the tea pot, and a few of your favorite tea snacks. He set the tray down at the small table by his bed and changed into his own pajamas as well, calling over his shoulder as he adjusted his shirt, “Let’s read some of that book you’ve been wanting to finish before bed, too.” 

“Really?” you asked, brightening up at the thought. You and Levi hadn’t done that in a while; you in his lap, resting against his chest as he sat up against the headboard, the two of you silently reading a book you held with Levi always nudging you to let you know when he wanted you to turn the page (and then making fun of you for reading too slow). The current book you were reading was a little too sappy - his words, not yours - so he hadn’t been following along. 

“Come here,” he instructed, getting under the covers and pulling you into him once you’d grabbed your book. You settled into him like you normally did, both of you reaching over to grab your cups of tea and take a sip, and that’s when you noticed that Levi had prepared your favorite kind of tea, and had made it his special way for you: a small hint of honey, which he only saved for special days since it had been such an expensive batch, and a dash of cinnamon. Your heart swelled at his thoughtfulness, knowing that instead of telling you, Levi was showing you how much you meant to him. Hell, he was even willing to have tea in bed with you. He usually made you drink at his desk with him. 

“Just the way I like it,” you murmured after taking another gulp, giving Levi a warm and loving grin; your way of letting him know that you appreciated what he was doing. 

Levi hummed in acknowledgement and set his cup back down on the tray, nodding towards the book silently, and you quickly flipped open to the page you’d ended on. Squirming around in his arms until you were sort of facing him, you gave him a brief summary of what had happened so far, so he wouldn’t be lost. 

“So my prediction is that, since he’s leaving and doesn’t know when he’ll come back if at all, she’ll tell him that she still loves him,” you finished proudly, turning back around to press your back flush against Levi’s chest. 

“Like I said before...sappy as shit,” Levi grumbled. You smirked when his chin rested on your shoulder to read with you, though, and reached up with one hand to stroke his cheek with your thumb before completely absorbing yourself into your book. 

The two of you stayed like that for a long time, with both of you silently reading to yourselves and Levi pressing a soft kiss to your jaw to signal he was ready to turn the page. Occasionally you’d stop for short tea breaks and to nibble on the snacks he’d brought along, a comfortable silence embracing the two of you. 

After a loud yawn from you, Levi squeezed his arms around you and made a small noise in his throat as he nuzzled into your neck, one hand moving to snatch the book from your hands to toss it to the end of the bed. It was well into the night now and all the candles you’d lit at the bedside table to help with reading were burning low, making your eyes heavy. 

“Time for bed,” he announced, hoisting you up by the waist and gently scooting you off his lap and into your own spot in bed. He adjusted the blankets around you and then gave you a long, unreadable look as you settled your head into the pillow, eyes half-lidded and blinking slowly as you tried to hold his gaze. He didn’t speak, just reached out to adjust the hair out of your face. But then, after another moment of deliberation, leaned in and whispered, “Do you feel better?” 

You smiled tiredy and nodded, reaching out to hold his hand in yours for a moment. “Much. Thank you for making me feel better.” 

“Jealous brat,” he murmured before pressing a kiss to your forehead, getting out of bed and grabbing the tray to clean up and get it out of the room. You tried to wait for him to come back but just couldn’t stay awake much longer, much less keep your eyes open. 

You vaguely heard Levi come back in after a while, sliding under the covers with you, but your mind was foggy and already in the beginnings of a soft dream. Absently, you moved to be closer to him, succumbing to sleep as a voice whispered in your ear, “There’s only you.” 

[that-sarcastic-writer]

Coach (1)

Fandom: Dylan O'Brien

Pairing: AU Dylan x Fem!Reader

Mini series summary: Being a newly single mom of two kids wasn't exactly easy. And love wasn't exactly part of your agenda. So, should you avoid lusting over your son's baseball coach? Absolutely. But with a man like Dylan, could you really resist? Probably not.

Warnings: nothing major yet, small sexual innuendo, mentions of cheating and divorce

WC: 1.9k

A/N: a yes, to those who have been following me for a while may recognize this title, it's my old Dylan AU fic. Yes I decided to continue it. Updates will come periodically, because I write spontaneously and I cant guarantee quick updates. But I do promise I wont wait a whole year to update. And since I did some slight updates in the first 2 parts I decided to archive the old ones and repost them again. So yeah, if you've read them before great, give it another read, my writing is much better now I promise and if you're new welcome, I hope you like this mini series.

(You are here, part 2, part 3)

Dylan stood by the side of the large field, near the home plate, occasionally yelling out suggestions and pointing out mistakes to the young boys. 

"Ezra! You have to watch the ball! C'mon! I know you can do better!" He called out to the blonde boy standing on the home plate with a bat in hand. Dylan then turned his attention to the dark haired boy with the baseball mitt and ball in hand.

"Roman! What's going on, buddy? You gotta focus, alright? You gotta work on that throw!" Dylan called out to the young boy, who half nodded and sighed heavily in response.

Not long after, Dylan signaled the young boys scattered throughout the large field to gather around. He spoke some encouraging words to the boys before allowing them to disperse and gather their equipment which meant practice was over.

Your son, however, stayed behind for a minute. There was an inaudible conversation happening between Dylan and your ten year-old, Roman. You watched from the bleachers as your son made some tired gestures at his coach followed by a small pat on the back from Dylan. You couldn't help but follow them with your eyes as they made their way to the bleachers, your eyes lingering a bit too long on the brown haired coach. An action that wasn't taken lightly by the female sitting beside you.

"You're staring at him again." Your best friend, Ezra's mother, Eliza -or just Liz, commented.

"I'm not." You muttered out quickly, tearing your eyes away from the handsome coach, your mouth hanging open for a couple of seconds. "I wasn't staring." You stated matter of factly and shrugged as you looked down at the small six year-old sitting on your lap, making sure she wasn't paying attention to the conversation.

"Really? The drool coming from your mouth says otherwise." Liz playfully ran her finger across your chin, pretending to wipe away at it. You slightly glared at her, an eye roll going her way.

"I'm not drooling. I wasn't even staring." You tried to defend yourself, making a small sassy gesture to her.

"Hey, I don't blame you. If I wasn't married," she took a pause as she eyed Dylan as he removed his baseball hat to run a hand through his messy chocolate locks, you couldn't help but stare as well. "I'd jump on his bones any day."

"Hey, there's young ears present." You said quietly to Liz as not to disturb the young girl in your arms.

Despite your attempt not to, you couldn't help but allow your eyes to fall once again on the field, following the handsome male that was the topic of your conversation. You had to hide the infatuated sigh that left your lips at the sight of your son's coach running around the field, talking to the kids and picking up equipment.

"Well he is handsome, I'll give him that.." You admitted quietly, "and he's really good with the kids."

Your friend smirked slightly at your words and wiggled her eyebrows at you.

"I bet that's not the only thing he's really good at." She eyed you suggestively and slightly nudged at you with her shoulder, "You should find out what other things he's good at."

Your mouth instantly fell open and your eyes widened at the insinuation.

"Eliza! Oh, my god. Don't say that." You slightly shook your head to brush off the embarrassment and hid your face on your hands to cover the crimson on your skin.

"Mommy you're warm!" Athena, your six year-old giggled as she grabbed your warm, sweaty hands. Even your daughter noticed the nervousness that crept up on you when it came to Dylan, even if it was just the topic of him. Truth was, you had been shamelessly crushing on your son's baseball coach ever since he joined the team a couple of months ago. 

Get it together, you should not be crushing on your son's baseball coach.

"I know baby, it's just hot out here." You tried to brush it off, but the knowing smirk on Liz's face wasn't exactly helping. "Thena, why don't you go get Roman and Ezra? They're over there." You pointed to the field where Roman and Ezra were talking —or more like just Ezra was, to the other kids on the team. She quickly nodded and bolted off the bleachers, somehow not tripping over the steps as she went down. You sighed heavily the moment the young girl was far enough and slightly turned your head in Liz's direction.

"You should totally ask him out." She said out of nowhere with a shrug and a smirk on her face. Your eyes widened for the hundredth time, and you instantly shook your head frantically, the idea alone giving you a headache.

"Ask Dylan out? No way. I.. No.. That's just.. No." Your cheeks slightly heat up at the preposition. But you quickly turned it down with a vigorous shake of your head, not even giving the idea a minute to sink into your brain. "No, he's Roman's coach. It's just wrong."

"Why? I mean, you're single, and as far as I know, he's very single. Soo," she dragged the 'o' as she wiggled her eyebrows and she nudged your shoulder, pushing you over a little in a high school girl manner, "Why not get ready to mingle with the hot coach?"

"First of all, I'm technically not single, not yet." You groaned with an eyeroll. As much as you and your husband —or ex-husband or whatever were no longer living together, the divorce process had been unnecessarily long and dreadful. So as much as you wanted to be legally single, you were still married to that piece of shit. 

"And second of all, if I were to date someone, which is a big if, I can't date Roman's coach out of all people. He already has enough as it is. It'll just confuse him and probably upset him more." You sighed heavily as you looked over to the side of the field, where all the boys were having a conversation about elementary boys' things. And there you saw your son, trying, and ultimately failing at joining said conversations. And with little Athena tugging at his side, all he got from the other kids was laughing and rejection.

Seeing your son's sad and hurt expression when the other boys laughed at him or even told him to go away broke your heart. You wanted him to be happy again. You wanted him to be the energetic and loving kid he was before your waste of a husband left. Ever since Ryan —your waste of a husband left, Roman hasn't been the same. 

For the past six or so months, he has been distant and seemingly unhappy. All he ever did was lock himself up in his room and play video games. He barely ever interacted with you and Athena anymore. He barely interacted with anyone, period. Once Ryan left, it was up to you to support your kids financially. Of course, their father still paid child support, but he sure as hell didn't pay your bills or everything you needed to spend on your children. Which meant you had to take him out of the fancy school he went to in order to still pay the monthly expenses of your home. And he just didn't quite fit in at school, especially now. 

So, you hoped that him joining the baseball team would change that, that it would help him open up again and that it would help him make new friends. But so far, it's worked just the opposite.

"So, I'm making dinner tonight. Do you want to come over with the kids and get drunk? Luke will watch over the kids." Liz spoke, interrupting your train of thought.

"That sounds a-mazing," you spoke in a song-like tune, a sigh of contentment leaving your lips. "But I can't. I told Roman I'd take him to that Italian place he likes."

"Tomorrow then. I'll have that Chardonnay you love so much waiting for you." She winked at you as you both stood up, ready to greet your children.

"Thank God for your alcohol stash." You joked, flinging your arms up in praise. 

You both laughed and smiled in your children's direction, but your smile dropped as your kids and Ezra approached you. Ezra was holding Athena's hand, while Roman walked behind them, with a certain heaviness on his step and an annoyed look on his face. And Athena had a small pout on her face.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

"Rome doesn't want to hold my hand!" Athena whined with a pout of her lower lip. She released Ezra's hand and exchanged it for your own. Ezra going to his own mom. While Roman simply stood there, with a hand stuffed into his pockets and the other messing with the strap of his bag, his gaze stuck on the ground.

"Roman, baby," you sighed softly, not wanting to give the poor kid a hard time. You understood he didn't exactly fit in, no matter how much he wanted to, and that upset him. You didn't want to add up to that. "Your sister just wanted you to hold her hand."

"She was embarrassing me.. I'm already the kid without a dad, I don't need to be the kid with an annoying  baby sister." He muttered, his gaze not once leaving the ground.

 His words were harsh, but lacked emotion. And it broke your heart. But as much as you wanted to tell him that it wasn't true, that he did have a dad, you'd be lying if you did. Ryan was already absent in your children's lives before the split, but at the same time he was there, and Roman felt as if he was. But now, his father really wasn't there, at all. And there was nothing you could do about it.

You sighed softly, gesturing your free hand out for him, "Roman, come here," a heavy sigh left the young boy's lips as he took a few steps closer, standing in front of you with his head hanging low and his eyes stuck to the ground. You used your hand to hold the side of his face, his eyes meeting with your own. "Baby, Thena just wanted to show you that she loves you. She didn't mean to embarrass you, right Thena?" You turned your attention to the small girl that hid behind your arm, her eyes glistening with tears.

The small girl sniffled and shook her head, "No.. I'm sorry Rome.. I won't do it ever again, I-I promise."

You exchanged looks between your children, your eyes finally landing on Roman as you waited for a response. You raised an eyebrow at him, your eyes speaking a silent 'and' to the boy. He eventually signed, almost too heavily, and nodded. 

"It's okay, I guess.. I don't really mind all that much." He half smiled, shrugging slightly.

Athena's expression quickly lightened, the small girl detached herself from your hand and hugged her older brother. And as much as he hated to admit it, he didn't mind the affection. He returned the hug and smiled, for a moment at least.

After a second or two, Roman slightly pushed Athena off him, signaling that that had been enough affection for a day. You breathed out softly, turning to look at Liz, who gave you a sympathetic smile in response. 

"Well my loves, off we go. Say goodbye to Auntie Liz and Ezra." Both your children did as you said. Athena hugging both of them, and Roman simply waving at them. Good enough.

And at last, you gave Liz a quick but tight hug, "I'll call you tomorrow." You said shortly before you grabbed a hold of your daughter's hand and your son's bag, and eventually parted ways.

Today was gonna be a long day.

《Here's an edited version of part 1. As always I hope y'all enjoyed it. I'm trying to get back into writing after a long year, hopefully this will help me get back on track. Let me know your thoughts. And let me know if you'd like to be added to my dylan/coach taglist which I do have》

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝙰𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚣 𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚜: 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝚂𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚑𝚠𝚊

Disclaimer: In no way am I condoning, encouraging, justifying, promoting nor romanticizing yandere behavior or lifestyle. This is all a work of fiction and not meant to represent real life scenarios.

Warnings: Mentions of toxic relationships, violence, degradation, physical/mental abuse, kidnapping, hostage holding, self-harm, attempted murder and other yandere behavior. Read at your own discretion.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

𝐁𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐜 𝐈𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧:

𝙽𝚊𝚖𝚎: 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝚂𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚑𝚠𝚊

𝙳.𝙾.𝙱: 𝙰��𝚛𝚒𝚕 𝟹𝚛𝚍, 𝟷𝟿𝟿𝟾

𝙷𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝: 𝟷𝟽𝟾 𝙲𝙼/ 𝟻'𝟷𝟶 𝙵𝚃.

𝙰𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝙻𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚕: ■■■■■100%

𝙾𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝙻𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚕: ■■■■■100%

𝙼𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝙸𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢: ■■■■□90%

𝙾𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚃𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝙻𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚕: 𝙴𝚡𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚎

𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝙲𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗: 𝙳𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐

𝙱𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚕 𝙰𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚢𝚜𝚒𝚜:

𝙴𝚡𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚑𝚒𝚐𝚑 𝚗𝚊𝚛𝚌𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚌 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚢.

𝙾𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚕 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝.

𝙽𝚘 𝚝𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚛 𝚘𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚞𝚜𝚊𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚍𝚟𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚜.

𝙱𝚛𝚞𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚎𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗.

𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚑𝚞𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚘𝚋𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

He was the school's and the town's heartthrob.

From the time he was young, every girl was in love with him and every boy wanted to be him.

From the tenderest of age, old folks were praising how cute and adorable he was.

That's just how Park Seonghwa grew up, being admired and loved by everyone around him. He was so used to his little club of adoring fans.

He dated, or more like, messed around with more than a couple of girls in his classes.

Not a single one of them was immune to his charms, even if at first they said they'd never ever fall for him. They always fell like dominoes.

And then the day finally came....The day someone ignored him, the day someone didn't worship the ground he walked on.....

The day someone not only refused but humiliated him in front of others.

You had recently moved into the small town, wanting to get away from all the bustling and, in your opinion, futile life of the city.

So you moved somewhere more quiet, serene, calm.

You only wanted a nice and comfortable life, and with the small but sturdy job you accepted, it allowed you to have a comfortable living.

For a while, no one really noticed or payed the to you, and those that did were wary of you.

You couldn't blame them. A stranger suddenly moves into their town? Of course they'd be careful.

You were very observant and in that time you observed Seonghwa.

He was good looking you had to admit, but he had come into the shop with a girl by his side which suggested to you they were an item.

Meaning he was off limits so you didn't bother to think about him.

But then he came in weeks later with a different girl, which threw you off a little.

And then a different girl, then another and you saw the pattern.

You shook your head and cringed at him. "Fuck boi." You muttered every time you saw him.

It didn't take long for him to hear about the new girl in town.

Which to him meant another heart to steal and a pair of legs to open and add to his collection.

He was with his friends, who were anxious to see what would happen.

You saw him confidently stride up to you, cocky grin on his face as his eyes looked you up and down. You internally scoffed.

"Don't think you can easily play me boy." You resolved in your head to wipe that smirk off.

"Hey gorgeous. Come here often?" He winked at you.

"I work here." You responded with absolutely no emotion or expression, barely giving him a glance as you arranged the shelves in the store.

He moved so you could see him better, thinking it would cause you to melt, but you just stared straight at him as if he wasn't there.

"If you need any assistance, please ask one of the managers. I only stock the merchandise."

You had to hold back from laughing at his shocked face, probably because no girl had ever not blushed or become flustered from his close proximity.

You moved away from him to put some articles on the next aisle.

Not giving up, Seonghwa followed after you, his friends trailing close behind you.

He tapped your shoulder to get your attention again.

For the first time in his life, a girl glared at him as if he was no more than a bug....

That was strike one for him.

"Listen...... I.......just wanted to get your number?" He couldn't believe that he was actually sweating nervously.

"Sorry. I don't give my number to strangers." You stated.

Seeing an opportunity, Seonghwa smiled flirtatiously at you.

"Well then maybe I should take you out. Then we won't be strangers. Maybe we could even get...really close." He licked his lips.

His face froze when he saw you roll your eyes at him.

That was strike two.

"Thank you but no. And if you'll excuse me."

You moved to leave him there again, but his hand reached out and gripped your wrist, a little too rough for your liking.

"Come on darling...no one's ever said no to me."

Yanking your hand away, you looked at him with disgust as you told him:

"I believe I just did."

Those words and the snorts and giggles from his friends behind him were strike three for him.

In that moment something snapped in him.

How dare someone like you reject him? The Park Seonghwa.

He was so stunned by your actions that he couldn't get you out of his mind from then on.

He no longer looked at any other girls.

His thoughts were fixated on you and only you.

He had to win you over, he just had to.

You were the ultimate challenge and he was going to make sure he was victorious.

But you made it so damn difficult.

Every. Single. Time.

You never hid how much he annoyed you and that pissed him off so much.

Days turned to a month, then 3 and still you kept refusing him.

The final straw for him was when he tried gifting you a rather expensive necklace that would have anyone else swooning.

Not batting a wink, you threw the case back to him.

"I'm not some whore you can buy for the night just cause you feel like it. Go find someone else to be your toy, fuckboi."

He gripped the case so harshly it actually bent, eyes staring daggers at you as you walked home.

"You're not getting away so easily. You're going to regret this."

You were surprised when you didn't see Seonghwa the next day..

Or for an entire week.

But you shrugged it off, perhaps he had finally learned his lesson and opted for leaving you alone.

Walking home, you couldn't help but feel like something eerie was going to happen.

You tried ignoring it by plugging in your headphones and just head home as soon as possible. It was dark and cold.

You weren't paying attention to your surroundings so you didn't see nor hear the car that was heading straight to you.

You only felt something knock you to the ground, immediately passing out from your head hitting the pavement.

The driver got out of the vehicle, his dark orbs staring down at your unconscious figure.

Bending down, he tilted your chin to look at your bloody face.

"I told you would regret this."

You woke up sore and with a pounding headache days later.

But more than anything, you woke up frightened when you saw you were chained down on a chair, wrists bound on the arm rests and feet tied to the legs.

Who the hell would kidnap you?

Your answer came in the form of Seonghwa himself, coming into the dimly lit basement where he held you.

He smirked as he saw you swallow harshly when he came close to you, face bending down at eye level to you.

"You can get out of this whole mess you know...."

Cupping your chin, he brought his lips dangerously close to yours.

"Just give in to me and agree to be mine."

You swore this had to be a joke. He'd go through all this trouble just for this shit?

Unable to stand his close proximity, you opted for showing your contempt for him by spitting on his face........something he did not take kindly to.

He looked at you as if you committed a heinous crime. And he wasn't going to let you get away with it.

Lifting your face up, he slapped you several times across the face, not satisfied until your nose was bleeding and your cheeks were stinging so badly, there was going to be bruising for sure.

You cried out when he harshly gripped your burning cheeks, adding even more pain.

"Sooner or later, you'll have to give in. The more you resist, the worse it'll get."

He left you there for 3 days, or a week. You honestly couldn't remember, you were going in and out of consciousness for a while.

When he finally let you out, you thought he'd be a little more nicer to you, but you were wrong.

Things only got worse.

You were being treated worse than an animal.

You couldn't walk anywhere, you had to crawl. You weren't allowed to use utensils for food, nor your hands.

The first time you tried to refuse to these rules, Seonghwa shoved you to the floor and dragged you by the hair across the hallway.

And as for food, he smashed your face into the bowl, you were surprised it didn't break from how hard he did it.

You could never look him in the eye or else you'd get struck across the cheek.

"Never look your betters in the eye. You should be grateful I even spare a glance at such a lowlife like you."

He lived, no...he thrived out of humiliating you.

It was sickening to know that such an individual could hate someone so much to go out of their way to try and dominate them to such an extent.

The times he was actually being 'nice' to you, his voice was filled with mock pity, talking to you as if you were his little pet.

It was those times where you truly couldn't hold back and glared at him.

And it always end with you back in the basement, stripped naked, and left there for days in the cold, body bleeding and sore from the canning he gave you.

And everytime he came back, he'd always say the same thing:

"You could end all of this if only you'd love me."

More than once you thought about giving in, even if just pretending.

He couldn't possibly treat you any worse than he did now.

But your inner strength, independence and repulsion from him kept you from giving in.

You'd rather die than ever let Park Seonghwa win and give him that. satisfaction.

But the day you found out you were pregnant with his kid, you knew you had to get out of there.

You were not going to allow a child to be raised by a monster.

You never told him anything, he couldn't know. You even resorted to cutting yourself so he'd believe you were still menstruating.

And for months you played it nice, obeyed him so he wouldn't cause you harm or to the baby.

He actually began to soften up, thinking he had finally broken you into the perfect lover he imagined.

"Fucking idiot."

That was the exact thing you thought when you finally allowed him to kiss you, instead of the forced ones he'd usually give you.

Taking advantage that his guard was down, you pulled out the knife you had hidden and didn't hesitate to plunge it on his side.

He pulled back in shock, but had no time to react because you just took out the knife and plunged it back in...

Over and over again until he layed unconscious on the floor.

Blood was everywhere and you honestly couldn't believe you did that.

Choking back the tears, you scrambled to find anything that could help you break the lock, which you eventually found.

You ran out of that place, never looking back.

You didn't run into the direction of the town, people would be too suspicious.

You ran towards the direction of the highway, hoping someone would find you and take you to the nearest hospital or police station.

It seemed luck was on your side as a woman immediately stopped when she saw you running.

She didn't hesitate to help you out, taking you to a hospital so you could get checked up.

You lied and simply said you had been kidnapped and managed to escape, feigning that you don't remember who your kidnapper was.

The police bought your story and more so dropped the interrogation when you said you didn't want to press charges and just wanted to lay low for a while.

You moved all the way across the country, far far away from the place of hell you were in.

You quickly got a job and a small, but comfortable home to raise your newborn daughter in.

She was such a cute and beautiful baby, looking like an exact replica of her father which somewhat haunted you but you pushed those thoughts aside.

Time had passed, you were safe, she was safe and almost a year old, and you'd never have to worry about that insane man ever again.........

So you believed.

Unaware of the piercing eyes that were looking through your opened window, staring at you as you fed yours and his baby.

"You'll love me in the end....."