#clear balance bracelet

[sashkacobracelets]

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[idkyetxoxo]

Aemond Targaryen - The Art of Persuasion

Summary - A determined woman uses her strategic charm to win the favour of the powerful Prince Regent. She navigates a delicate dance of influence and intimacy, aiming to transform their fraught relationship into a potent alliance while exploring the limits of their mutual desire.

Pairing - Aemond Targaryen x reader

Warnings - Sexual content (smut!)

Word count - 2119

Masterlist for Aemond • House of the Dragon General Masterlist.

Aemond Targaryen, now ruling as Prince Regent and Protector of the Realm due to his brothers grievous battle injuries, commands respect across the kingdom. Yet, he remains unmarried, a notable void in his life. 

As fate would have it, he needs a bride, and I am conveniently available.

I sat drumming my fingers against my teacup, the warm liquid causing the china to burn my fingertips. Lost in thought, I pondered the many ways I could persuade Aemond to marry me.

As the daughter of Jasper Wylde, spending time in the castle was not unusual for me; I practically grew up around Aegon, Aemond, and Helaena. My familiarity with the royal siblings was a double-edged sword.

Unlike Aegon and Helaena, Aemond never particularly liked me. His demeanour was often egotistical and unbearable, a trait that only intensified after he claimed Vhagar. Our interactions became increasingly strained as we grew older, creating a chasm between us.

Despite this, I couldn't ignore the opportunity before me. Marrying Aemond would secure my position and grant me unique influence within the realm. The prospect was too significant to overlook, and I needed to find a way to bridge the gap that had grown between us.

Aemond's cold demeanour and prideful nature presented a challenge, but I was determined. I would need to appeal to his sense of duty and ambition, perhaps even find common ground in our shared history.

I placed my teacup down, stood up, and smoothed my dress. My eyes flicked to where Aemond sat, a scroll in hand, surrounded by councilmen who seemed to be walking on eggshells around him. His intense focus and commanding presence filled the room a reminder of the power he wielded.

Loosening the bracelet on my wrist, I walked toward him with confidence. Just as I reached him, I bumped his chair, stumbling slightly to let the delicate jewellery fall. 

The councilmen glanced at me, their expressions a mix of curiosity and annoyance, but I paid them no mind.

I bent down, maintaining eye contact with Aemond. My cleavage was in clear view as I picked up the bracelet. 

"Apologies, your grace," I whispered, clasping the metal in my hand.

He looked into my eyes, then at my chest, his gaze lingering too long before he nodded, a grunt of dismissal escaping his lips. I straightened up and walked away without looking back.

This encounter, though brief, was a step forward. I had caught his attention, and now I needed to maintain it. Each moment with Aemond would be an opportunity to shift his perception of me, to transform from a mere childhood acquaintance into a potential partner worthy of standing by his side.

As I navigated the castle, I contemplated the next steps. I would need to weave a delicate balance of allure and respect, challenge and support. 

Aemond's pride and sense of duty could be the keys to unlocking his heart, and I was ready to use every tool at my disposal to secure a future where we ruled together.

Days passed, and I inserted my presence into Aemond's life like a bee to nectar. Everywhere he went, I was there, sometimes in the background, sometimes in the foreground, reestablishing my place in his world.

I knew his routines, his preferences, and his triggers. I made sure to be there, subtly influencing his thoughts and actions, drawing him closer to me.

At the moment, I sat in my chambers, a hot steaming bath drawn by the handmaidens. Suds of soap covered a few inches of my body, and the flowery scent of lavender filled the room. I sat with my eyes closed, head tilted back, legs outstretched, and arms resting on the lip of the bath.

My chamber doors swung open, and I masked the smile forming on my face. I cracked open my eyes, staring at Aemond across from me. His face was contorted with confusion.

"A servant told me you wished to speak with me," he said hesitantly.

I sighed, feigning frustration. "I had wanted to speak later, not this instance," I said, making it seem like the servant had erred in conveying their message.

He hesitated, raising an eyebrow. "I have much more important matters to attend to than answering to your every beck and call," he said, taking a step forward. 

His pride was evident, but I could see a crack forming in his facade.

I sat up slightly in the water, my movements teasing and slow, placing both my arms on one side of the tub, water droplets dripping onto the stone floor. 

"You're right. I apologize, your grace," I said, standing up slowly. 

His one good eye widened slightly, his intense gaze roaming over my body, a look of lust and hunger masking his face. He was giving in, slowly but surely.

I exited the bathtub deliberately, the water droplets pooling on the floor around me. I walked towards my thin robe, donning it and tying the belt tightly against my body. 

The wet fabric clung to me like a second skin. I shook out my hair a little, taking a step towards him.

"I suppose now that I'm dressed, we can talk," I said. He blinked slowly, his stoic composure fading ever so slightly.

"What is it you wish to speak about?" he whispered as I took another step towards him, our bodies now only a couple of feet apart.

Aemond's pride was slowly crumbling, and I knew I had to strike the right balance to win his favour. My heart raced with the thrill of the challenge, and I was more determined than ever to make him see me as his equal, his partner, and his future queen.

"I've been observing the court," I began, my voice steady and confident. 

"I noticed there's a growing discontent among some of the lords about the way certain territories are being managed, especially in the Riverlands. Their dissatisfaction could lead to unrest if not addressed properly."

Aemond's eye narrowed, his interest piqued. "And what do you suggest?"

"The lords need to feel heard and valued. We should send envoys to engage with them directly, listen to their grievances and offer tangible solutions. It's not just about imposing royal decrees, it's about showing that we care for the well-being of all our subjects."

He nodded slowly, clearly impressed by my insight. "That's a sound strategy."

I took a step closer, the scent of lavender still clinging to me. "Someone on your council needs to have their ear to the ground, someone who understands the subtle intricacies of court politics and the needs of the realm. Someone like me."

Aemond's gaze intensified, his admiration for my knowledge and strategic mind apparent. "You believe you can fulfil that role?"

"I know I can. I've grown up in this castle, observing and learning. I understand the dynamics at play and the motivations of the lords and ladies. I can be your ally, your advisor, and much more. Having someone like me by your side would not only strengthen your rule but also ensure a more stable and prosperous realm."

He studied me for a long moment, his pride and pragmatism warring within him. 

Finally, he spoke, his voice softer, almost reluctant. "You make a compelling case. Perhaps I have underestimated you."

I smiled, the triumph tempered with genuine warmth. "I am here to serve, your grace."

With those words, I took a final step towards him, our chests practically touching now. I looked up at him, grabbing his hand and guiding it to the belt of my robe. Slowly, I made him untie it, shaking the material off. 

He glanced down, following the droplets of water still running down my body. I maintained eye contact, watching for any signs of resignation before undoing his belt and slowly removing his clothes.

His breathing grew heavier, his body betraying the stoic facade he tried to maintain. I grasped his arm once more, walking backwards until the back of my legs hit my bed. 

"Perhaps, your grace could use a moment of pleasure, a brief respite" I whispered, guiding him onto the bed and straddling him, my hips rocking back and forth against his crotch.

"Perhaps," he said, sounding almost bored, but his body said otherwise. 

His hands gripped my waist, pulling me closer, his lips finally breaking into a smirk that spoke of both desire and amusement.

I leaned in, my lips brushing against his ear. "You carry a heavy burden. Let me share it with you. Let me be the one who stands by your side, in both the council chamber and in moments like this."

He let out a low chuckle, his grip tightening. "You are quite persuasive," he murmured, his voice thick with restrained passion.

"I aim to please," I replied, my voice equally hushed. "And I can offer so much more than just pleasure. I can offer loyalty, intelligence, and an unwavering commitment."

Aemond's eyes flickered with something more profound than mere lust. It was a mixture of intrigue, respect, and a reluctant recognition of my potential. 

"Show me, then," he said, his voice a challenge.

I accepted that challenge with a smile, leaning in to kiss him, a kiss that was both a promise and a declaration. Our lips met, and the connection between us deepened, the boundaries of power and passion blurring.

My lips trailed down his neck, each kiss deliberate, my wet hair tickling his skin as I made my way down his body. His breathing grew heavier with each touch, his composure slipping. 

When I reached his hardened cock, I swiped my tongue across the tip before licking down his length slowly, savouring the taste of him.

He grabbed a fistful of my hair, halting my movements. "Don't tease," he commanded, his voice rough with desire.

I smiled up at him, nodding. "As you wish, your grace."

I positioned myself on top of him, taking him in one smooth, deliberate motion. Aemond's groan of satisfaction was immediate, his hands gripping my waist tightly as I began to move. 

The sensation was intoxicating, I rode him with a precise rhythm, every movement deliberate and controlled.

My hips moved in a steady, practised motion, angling myself just right to maximize the pleasure. I could feel his body reacting to each shift, each twist, and I adjusted my movements to keep him on edge. 

The intensity of his groans and the way his hands gripped my hips told me I was hitting every mark perfectly.

"You're doing well," he murmured, his voice laced with approval. 

His hands roamed my body, caressing my curves, and exploring every inch of me. I leaned forward, my breasts brushing against his chest, my breath mingling with his.

"Thank you," I whispered, my voice trembling with both effort and delight. "I'm going to be everything you need, everything you want."

Aemond's gaze was fixed on me, his eyes dark with lust and admiration. "You might just be," he admitted, his tone softening.

I quickened my pace, our bodies moving together in a perfect dance of desire. My movements were fluid and confident, each thrust and grind calculated to drive him wild. I felt every pulse, every tremor of pleasure as I adjusted my angle, finding new ways to make our connection even more intense.

The room was filled with the sounds of our passion, his groans, my soft sighs, the rhythmic slap of skin against skin. We were both nearing the edge, and I felt the mounting tension in every fibre of my being. With each shift in rhythm, I pushed us closer to that precipice of climax.

As our movements became more urgent, Aemond's grip on my hips tightened. "You feel amazing," he gasped, his voice breaking with the strain of his mounting pleasure

I adjusted my angle slightly, aiming to increase the intensity. "Let go," I urged softly, my voice a seductive murmur against his ear. "Feel everything."

Aemond's eyes fluttered shut, his breaths coming in ragged gasps.

I continued to ride him with a relentless rhythm, pushing both of us to the brink. With a final, perfect thrust, Aemond's body tensed beneath me, his release spilling over in a series of deep, shuddering groans. 

"Yes, yes," he moaned, the intensity of his climax overwhelming.

His pleasure triggered my own, a wave of euphoria crashing over me as I reached my peak. I gasped, my body trembling with the force of my orgasm. I cried out, the sound mingling with my breathless cries.

We both rode the wave of our climaxes together, our bodies entwined in a final, ecstatic embrace. As the intensity faded, I collapsed onto him, my breathing heavy and satisfied.

Aemond's arms wrapped around me, pulling me close. His voice was hushed but filled with a mixture of admiration and wonder. 

"You've truly proven yourself," he murmured, his breath warm against my ear. "In every way."

A/n -  turns out being persuasive can be quite the workout, who knew diplomacy had so many... physical benefits

[onyourowndaisymae]

presenting the obey me dateables (+ luke) with a friendship bracelet

you all asked so nicely for the dateables that i couldn't help but get inspired! i intend to reverse this prompt and write the characters making you a friendship bracelet sometime soon (will be split by demon brothers/dateables bc that's so many words)

[the demon brothers version]

[the dateables (+ luke) presenting you with a friendship bracelet]

content warnings: none

prompt: you grin down at your work. in your hands is a small friendship bracelet, lovingly crafted from hard work and the embroidery thread you found in your closet. you weren't quite sure why you'd made it, but the thought of giving a certain someone the bracelet and watching their reaction made you smile. now, to hand it off...

Diavolo

this is a mistake.

at least, that's what barbatos and lucifer think. because from the moment you present diavolo with a friendship bracelet, it is all he talks about.

when you approach him with the little gift--a red and black bundle of knots and strings-- and offer it up, he laughs jovially and asked what it was. you explain it's a friendship bracelet. from where you're from, you make them for people you care about, so they can have a piece of you with them every day. it's usually a tradition for children and teens, but you thought it would be fun to give him the bracelet regardless. you were just thinking about him (and his lonely childhood-- but you don't say that part aloud) and how he didn't really do stuff like this when he was young... so maybe he'd appreciate it now? you start to feel a little silly by the end of your explanation, so you look up at him to try to gauge his reaction.

you would have thought you proposed with how touched this man looked.

his expression softens and his eyes go wide. he puts out his hands to take the gift and you hand it over. his face quickly splits into a grin as he inspects each individual knot and string. did you really make this? he's impressed. look at how lovely it is! he raves about the quality for longer than necessary (it's not that good, mind you) as you flush from all the praise.

you offer to tie it for him and his eyes sparkle. truly, you never thought he'd enjoy a gift like this that much-- nonetheless, you're incredibly flattered.

how did you make this bracelet? what material is this? will you teach him how to make one, too? how often is he supposed to wear this?

the last question makes you chuckle. honestly, that's up to him. you tell him about that time you wore a friendship bracelet all summer one year, until it was a frayed biohazard that stank up the whole room. you recommend taking it off for showers and activities that might get it that dirty-- please, diavolo, learn from your childhood mistakes-- but other than that, he can wear it whenever he feels like. you assure him that your feelings won't get hurt if he doesn't, but he quickly reassures you that he definitely plans on wearing it.

... and he is not bluffing when he pledges this commitment to you. diavolo will wear his friendship bracelet all day every day, only taking it off when absolutely necessary. that does not include formal meetings or events. he is wearing that damn bracelet. what are they going to do, call him out? he's the fucking demon king (well, close enough).

Barbatos

you present barbatos with the bracelet one day when you've joined him for an afternoon in the kitchen.

he's carefully explaining how he gets the texture to this pastry just right-- there's a clear balance between airiness and moisture, you see-- while you try to listen. you can't help but let your mind wander as he talks. doesn't he know this friendship bracelet is practically burning a hole in your pocket?!

"mc, are you listening?"

he's looking up at you with expectant eyes, and you feel yourself flush in embarrassment. you barely get alone time with him as-is, and here you are, wasting it! you apologize and explain you've been a bit distracted. he welcomes you to share (if you are so inclined), pausing his work to give you his full attention.

it's now or never. you can either be brave, or you can walk back to the house of lamentation with your tail between your legs!

you present the butler with your creation-- a green and black friendship bracelet-- with a small explanation of what it is. you feel juvenile presenting an ancient demon such a childish gift, but he accepts your gift with a nod and a small smile. barbatos sets aside the gift for the rest of the day, careful that it won't get soiled by the mess of ingredients as he continues his baking lesson.

you assume barbatos has stored in somewhere out of sight-- you'd like to think he cares enough about your feelings to keep it, but you have also never seen him wear it. you're starting to feel like an idiot for even gifting him such a silly thing in the first place. he's arguably the second most powerful demon in the realm. he doesn't have time for a chintzy little bundle of strings from some insignificant human!

you're at the castle one day on another retreat with the rest of the house of lamentation residents. in a chaotic scuffle with one of his brothers, mammon manages to knock an open bottle of demonus directly into barbatos' chest. the butler sighs and begins to take off his coat while lucifer is moments away from tearing mammon into thirds.

as he opens his jacket, you spot it.

pinned inside the front of his jacket is, undoubtably, your bracelet. you recognize that striped pattern from a mile away. you can't forget the embarrassing amount of time you spent toiling away over cheap embroidery floss (not to mention the several mess-ups you had to throw out). you almost can't believe that's where he's been keeping it all this time.

barbatos catches you staring at the bracelet and gives you a small, secret smile. he leaves the jacket open for a moment longer-- it's like he knows, like he's letting you commit the image to memory-- before folding it neatly in his arms. he turns on his heel and walks back to his room before you can react further.

you're a little bummed to see him go. after all, that bracelet was probably ruined in all the liquid-y chaos from a few minutes ago. yet when he returns, adjusting his jacket one last time, you swear you see a flash of green and black string.

maybe it was just your imagination. and maybe that knowing look on his face was, too.

Simeon

you've found the clump of tangled embroidery floss in your closet among things you've brought from the human world. you aren't really sure how it got there, but you've got some free time to kill-- why not try to make one of those friendship bracelets you had growing up?

it starts out in your head as a stupid little joke. who among the people you know here would be the most accepting of a dumb little gift like this?

... simeon, probably. i mean, the guy's an angel. isn't being gracious and kind part of their whole schtick?

as you weave the threads together, you feel yourself get excited. simeon means a lot to you. he's been there any time you've needed him throughout the entire exchange program, always there to lend a hand or a listening ear whenever you so desire. you don't get to see him as much as you'd like, seeing as he lives all the way over at purgatory hall, but you feel you're close enough to give him such a gift.

you catch him after class at RAD one day. you don't have time run by purgatory hall after school, and you're worried if you wait much longer to give him the bracelet, you'll somehow lose or destroy it. when you approach, he's all smiles.

"mc? to what do i owe the honor?"

you ask if you can speak to him alone-- nobody misses the suggestively suspicious look solomon tosses the two of you-- and he leads you to a quite corner of the hallway.

suddenly, this whole thing feels very silly. but, at this point, you've already dragged him away from everyone, so you might as well go through with it.

you pull the blue and white friendship bracelet from the pocket of your uniform and offer it out to him. you explain that it's a friendship bracelet, something that human kids usually exchange as a show of friendship and devotion. you were in the mood to make one the other night and thought he might appreciate it. there. that didn't sound too cringe, right?

your gaze slowly lifts from your hands to find simeon in as disheveled of a state as you. his cheeks are flushed and his face is frozen as he processes your explanation. then a slow, delighted smile spreads over his cheeks.

out of everything to happen today, he definitely did not anticipate this happening. yet he couldn't be more pleased. he gives you his thanks as you tie the bracelet around his wrist-- over his gloves, so he can show it off to everyone, he tells you.

what did you say these were for? an expression of friendship? he's touched that you'd include him in an intimate human ritual like this (it's not that deep, but his smile makes you bite your tongue). would you be willing to stop by purgatory hall sometime soon so he can learn more about it? he loves any story you tell, after all.

you part ways with identical grins and a promise to meet again sometime soon. simeon assures you that he'll take care of the bracelet-- it's very special, you know, since you're the one that gave it to him.

and take care of it he does. every time you see him, he's wearing that bracelet. it looks nicer than the day you gave it to him! you're surprised, until satan reminds you simeon's always wearing white. clearly, he's good at keeping things clean.

he wears a big ass white cloak all day, every day. you think a little bracelet is going to trip him up? nah. simeon values your gift-- the gesture, the time you put into making him the bracelet, the skill it took to make such a pretty little thing-- too much to let an ounce of dirt sully his favorite present.

Solomon

hey, solomon. you want a friendship bracelet?

he looks up from his school work to eye you curiously. you two are on opposite sides of a table in one of RAD's many libraries. you're supposed to be studying, but you got bored fifteen minutes ago and haven't been productive since.

you pull a bundle of embroidery floss out of your pocket and spread it out on the table. a rainbow of colors sits mostly untangled-- you've been trying all day, but some knots are simply too stubborn-- across the smooth wood, and across the materials you should really be studying right now.

got a color preference, sorcerer boy, or am i going to have to give you the ugliest combination i can think of?

he laughs and tells you to do your worst. are you actually going to make one, though? how do you even remember how to do that? he admits he's never actually had one before. you tease him for being a lonely old man. he teases you right back for being a dweeb who wastes brain space on how to make gifts for third graders.

just for that comment, his bracelet's going to be ugly. and you won't even try to make it not lumpy, too. in your face, peepaw.

you get to work weaving the strings into a particular pattern of knots. you've chosen snot green and tree bark brown, paired nicely with a subtle hot pink for a more elegant look. slowly but surely, you start forming the stripes of the bracelet. you can feel his eyes on you, but for once, you decide not to tease him. you're feeling generous today, after all.

when you finish, you tie off the lose end and untape the other from the front of your textbook-- that's certainly the most useful its been to you all day-- with a victorious little smirk. he's still watching you work. you've succeeded in distracting him as well, congrats! it's what he deserves for dragging you into a half an hour argument between levi and asmo last week for no other reason than to see you struggle to keep the peace. karma's a bitch, and seeing this ugly ass bracelet across his wrist will be the cherry on top.

you instruct him to hold out his wrist and he complies. you start tying the ends together, careful not to permanently knot it around his wrist, when--

"wow, you actually made it for me. does that mean we're best friends now? i guess i'll have to brag to those brothers about it, won't i?"

you feel your life flash before your eyes. suddenly, you can hear it in your mind-- seven overlapping voices arguing, louder and louder, for you to make them a friendship bracelet as well. nothing will satiate their jealousy with each other. it's like entertaining a horde of toddlers: a gift to one is an insult to the rest.

oh. oh shit.

you're on your feet before you can speak. suddenly, maybe you don't want solomon to have that bracelet anymore. but he's always five steps ahead of you. literally, in this case, seeing as he's already taken off towards the other end of the library. oh hell no.

you manage to catch up to him eventually, and the afternoon devolves into you (playfully and consensually) bullying each other over the gift.

for all his big talk, he does actually wear the bracelet every day. you think that it's mostly to make you worry that one of the brothers might ask about it-- and that's definitely a big part of why he does it, seeing as he smirks every time he catches you looking at it-- but you think there must be a part of him that actually likes it, ugly color scheme and all.

it's solomon, remember? horrible chef, spellcaster to varying degrees of success, general menace to society. that bracelet is filthy in a matter of days. what's worse, though, is that he also has a terrible habit of breaking or losing it. this would be fine under normal circumstances. no harm, no foul, right? but every three to four business days, whenever he breaks it or covers it in mud or loses it somewhere in the hallway, he's up your ass for you to make him a new one.

what can he say? you're besties, aren't you? that's why you made the bracelet in the first place. now chop chop, mc, his wrist feels naked.

Luke

you visit purgatory hall after school one day, a pep in your step and a bright smile on your face. a few of the brothers question your giddiness as you head out (mammon especially didn't like that you wouldn't elaborate where you were going or who you were seeing), but you make it to your destination unscathed and unfollowed.

when you walk in-- you've had an open invite to visit whenever since the early days of the exchange program-- you spot luke baking in the kitchen. he calls out to you from his spot near the oven and invites you to try this cake he's been working on. barbatos taught him the recipe last week, and ever since, he's been working hard to perfect his version of the dish.

you spend a few minutes playing taste tester for the little angel before you get his attention. you've got a gift for him. the anticipation is starting to kill you, so you'd like to get it out of your hands.

you open your palms and reveal your present: a white and gold friendship bracelet. you explain that it's usually a gift kids in the human realm give each other.

... probably the wrong wording, considering who you're giving the gift to.

"is this because you think i'm a child? now you sound like lucifer! listen here, i'll have you know i report directly to archangel michael, who--"

you let him continue his little rant until he gets it all out of his system. when he's done, looking at you expectantly for some sort of rebuttal, you grin and explain the real reason for your gift. you think of luke as a close friend, and you wanted to give him a gift familiar to your culture that communicates that with the world.

an embarrassed flush spreads over his cheeks as the cherub realizes he might have jumped to conclusions. he sheepishly smiles at you and asks you to tell him more.

you tie the bracelet onto his wrist and explain all your favorite childhood memories with gifts like these. every friendship bracelet, each matching necklace you got with a childhood friend, all of those little mementos of friendships past still sit in a box in your closet. you might outgrow wearing a yarn bracelet (or it might have grown filthy over the years with all your sticky-fingered adventures), but you'll never outgrow the memories behind them.

luke asks if he can see them some day. will you tell him more stories if he visits you at the house of lamentation? you smile and agree-- so long as he doesn't get gobbled up on the way there. now he's protesting again. he's not a child! (whatever you say, luke).

by the end of the evening, you've explained the knotting patterns you used to make the bracelet. luke tells you to watch out-- he's gonna make you such an amazing bracelet, just you wait! you grin, already excited to show off his little creation.

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Musician Age Gap AU

Kara goes to the concert expecting nothing more than a tepid evening out. Well, as tepid as a night alone with her goddaughter could be. Esme has a knack for pulling Kara out of any funk she's in, no matter how deep her doldrums. And Esme's excitement to see this specific artist Kara's never heard of is nearly infectious.

Kara finds herself grinning in the car as Esme strictly tells her not to turn the radio on.

"They're gonna play one of her songs, and we need to go in fresh!"

So they simply chat on the ride to the arena, and upon arrival Kara is floored by the flood of people flowing from the parking lot to the venue itself.

"She's only the biggest name in pop music, Aunt Kara," Esme teases with a grin. "What did you expect?"

Kara's eyes go big with an exaggerated shrug of her eyebrows. "Not this!"

"Come on, old lady. This is why we got here early."

Esme finds fast friends among the other fans in line, but Kara steers clear of the parents clearly commisserating over the ordeal. She's not a parent, just a chaperone, and she has no intention of allowing herself to be infected by the endless negativity of long suffering caregivers bemoaning the whims of their tweens and teens.

Once inside, Esme heads straight for the merch table, clearly intent on spending her long-saved allowance money on anything she can get her hands on. The kid's wrists are already stacked with friendship bracelets, her own tote of swaps nearly empty and waiting to be stuffed with shirts and mugs and posters. Kara eyes the mounting total, then catches the moment Esme starts weighing the balance of what she has against the hoodie advertised at $60.

Kara rolls her eyes at the price, then reaches over with her card outstretched. "Add a medium hoodie to that, please."

Esme squeals with delight, and as soon as they're clear of the stall she throws her arms around Kara.

"Thank you!!!!"

"You're welcome," Kara says with a chuckle. "Just don't wear it til you get home. It's going to be hot in there."

"Okay!" Esme is already swapping her existing t-shirt for the tank top she'd gotten, emblazoned with the face of a young woman and the performer's name: LENA

"How do I look?" Esme asks with a spin, bracelets clicking.

Kara grins. "Like the world's cutest groupie." She tilts her head towards the crush of people heading into the stands. "Come on, let's go grab our seats."

"What's a groupie?"

Kara rolls her eyes, only to pause mid-turn when her phone starts vibrating in her hand. She hesitates, meeting Esme's eye.

"Just a sec, sweetie."

"What? No! Aunt Kara you promised no work."

Kara grimaces. "I know, but it might be an emergency." She scans the corridor, gaze catching on a short row of food vendors. "Here, why don't you take this and get us some nachos?"

She shoves forty dollars into Esme's hand and fishes out her bluetooth, nestling it in her ear.

"Aunt Kara..."

"I gotta find a corner somewhere," Kara continues. She points to a section of cinderblock wall a little ways down. "I'll meet you in across from the restrooms, okay? Five minutes, then I'm all yours."

Esme huffs. "Fine."

Kara answers the call, but waits until she sees Esme add herself to the food line before she starts speaking.

"This better be good!" she shouts into her phone. She can't hear anything but a jumble of sound on the other end, the din around her crowding out any words that might have been spoken. "Hold on!"

Reassured to see Esme already in conversation with a number of girl's around her, Kara goes looking for a quieter spot. She finds one in the nearest stairwell.

"What?" Kara snaps.

"Um," her assistant says over the line. "Mrs. Jasper called again? She wants--"

"Eve," Kara growls. "Do not tell me you called me, tonight of all nights, because Mrs. fucking Jasper called making some other inane request."

"I'm sorry!" Eve squeaks. "It's just--"

"Tell her it is after hours, and that she will be hearing from me personally first thing tomorrow morning."

"Oh, um. Okay. I guess--"

"Go home when it's done. And turn off your phone. You shouldn't be working this late either."

"Um. Okay. Thank you, Miss Danvers."

Kara ends the call with a roll of her eyes. But her frustration hardens into panic when she tugs on the door to return and-- it doesn't budge. She yanks again, harder, and still nothing.

"Fuck!" she shouts. She begins pounding on the door. "Hey! Can someone open this door?!"

No one comes to her rescue, her calls likely drowned out by the same noise that had driven her here in the first place. With another curse, Kara steps into action. She chooses to go down, hoping that the next door will open. It does, but the corridor she steps into is nearly empty. She hears a bit of bustle further down the hall, but out of sight.

She heads towards the sounds, trying the handle of every door she passes. None of them turn-- save one. She leans into it a little too hard as she tries the knob, and nearly tumbles into the room at the unexpected open.

Managing to right herself with a small yelp, Kara straightens-- only to freeze upon locking gazes with the young woman staring at her. A young woman Kara recognizes from the shirt her goddaughter had just put on.

Lena tilts her head with a droll grin.

"Well, you aren't my tea with honey."

[grimesthinker]

cw: fluff, basically daryl being soft for you. (fem!reader x daryl dixon) 776 wc

DARYL DIXON had no idea what to do when it came to someone like you. to say the least, he didn’t quite understand you. you had proved countless times you could take care of yourself, so you weren’t weak by any means. still, there were small things that made him really question you.

after daryl’s group got settled into alexandria, they had many new faces to meet, including yours. even though he wouldn’t admit it, daryl was instantly drawn to you. with rosy cheeks, long eyelashes and an innocent smile, he just couldn’t help it. he began to notice small things about you, like the clothes and accessories you wore. although your closet was obviously limited, you always tried your best to make your appearance seem fuller. sometimes you found pieces of cloth or silk, to which you would make bows out of to place in your hair. sometimes you made jewelry, even making a bracelet for daryl. you weren’t really expecting him to wear it, but he did.

one day, you asked daryl if you could join him on a supply run. “nah, i ain’t babysittin’.” he said in a grainy voice as he lit the cigarette between his lips. you didn’t let up though, using those big puppy-dog eyes to plead with him. “damnit girl, don’t ‘ya ever listen?” he grunted, but eventually gave in.

on the way back, unknowingly to both of you, a walker that been stuck in the leaves grabs your shoe and causes you to trip. daryl quickly shoots the creature with an arrow and helps you up. he watches as you grab his hand and gain back your balance. he can tell you’re flustered, as your cheeks grow darker than normal and you fail to meet his eyes. a shy thing, you could be sometimes. he studies you as you thank him and stutter an apology for not watching where you step.

instinctively, you touch your neck where your necklace rests, only there’s no necklace. panic begins to build and daryl can see it written all over your face. “you okay?” you look up at him, shaking your head. “my necklace…” your hand begins to shake a little, and daryl realizes. you’ve worn the same necklace since he first met you, a rusty gold chain with a heart shaped locket. he heard you speak about it to carl once, explaining how it had a picture of your family in it. you drop to your knees and start looking for it, daryl about to join you when you both hear growling in the distance. a herd is coming your way, daryl realizes and touches your shoulder. “hey kid, we gotta go.” he tells you, but you shake your head and continue to search. daryl watches as the herd moves closer, his frustration building as you’re putting yourself in danger. “get yer ass up girl, we gotta go.” he pulls you up, yet his gaze softens when he sees the tears that have already fell down your soft cheeks. “daryl, i can’t-“ you start, but he’s already pulling you both out of the way of the herd and back to alexandria.

a few days pass, and all daryl can think about is you and that damn necklace. you haven’t been the same since you guys returned, and everyone has noticed. usually, you’re the most talkative person in alexandria, but recently you’ve only been speaking when you have to. daryl winces when he thinks about it, absolutely hating the fact that you’re any kind of upset. after stealing a glance of you through your window and seeing the sullen expression on your face, he grabs his crossbow and heads into the woods. a couple hours later, he finds himself standing at your doorstep.

he knocks, and you answer with a soft smile. “hi daryl.”

“uh,” he clears his throat, holding his hand out with the gold necklace in it. “i had to fix the chain but the locket is still intac-“ you cut him off as you throw your arms around his neck and embrace him with a hug. “daryl!” his eyes widen as he stands, unsure what to do with his own arms as he registers the body pressed against his own. “thankyouthankyouthankyou!” you pull back, taking the necklace from his hand and clasping it around your neck. you look down at it before you place a kiss on daryl’s cheek. his stubble tickles you and you give a slight giggle, pulling him in for another hug. he’s taken back at first, but eventually wraps his own hands around your frame.

“you sure are stronger than ‘ya look, huh, girl?”

[rahhhbananas]

✭ ✭ ✭ 𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐘 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐀 𝐁𝐈𝐖𝐔 ✭ ✭ ✭ ft. hobie, gwen, miles, pavitr

summary. Miles, Gwen, Pavitr, and Y/n are sent on a short mission to find a bizarre anomaly.

warnings. He/Him pronouns, I have literally no idea how to write Hobie’s accent, this is intended to be a black male reader, but there is no real indications of Y/n’s race!

a/n. I was re-watching KREW play The Mimic and this silly idea has been stuck in my head for awhile 😭 also I just love Hobie with my freaking soul

"So, there's a lady... with a biwu... smacking people?"

Gwen questioned through the coms, watching the ambulance carry away a citizen on a stretcher. Miles swung back up to the building where the other Spider-people sat. "Seems like it," he replied. The group huddled up, discussing their next move. "Hold on!" The trio turned their attention to Y/n. "Are we sure this isn't just some mad woman who enjoys seeing the world suffer?" Pavitr nodded in agreement. "There are some nutters out there! Take Miguel, for instance." Gwen chuckled, struggling to hold back her laughter.

"Oh, come on now. And I highly doubt Peter would let Miguel send us on such a pointless mission," Miles argued, peering into a dark alley, searching for any signs of criminal activity. Y/n let out a sound of amusement. "Are you really that certain, Miles? The guy chased you on all fours, I mean, all fours! I've never seen someone so dedicated to ruining another person's life." Pavitr burst into laughter, his amusement causing him to lose balance and fall off the chimney. Now, it was Y/n's turn to laugh. Ignoring the two, Gwen turned to Miles. "Miles, I know you want to prove yourself or whatever, but come on. Y/n has a point. This is..." A shrill scream cut off her words. The trio turned their attention to Y/n, who deadpanned, "I'm offended that you thought that was me."

"Whatever, someone's in trouble!" Miles leaped from the building, with the others not following. The group landed on the rooftop of an abandoned warehouse. Gwen tried to peer through the foggy, see-through material, but it was too obscured. "Just break the glass! It's easy!" Pavtri suggested. However, breaking the "glass" turned out to be more difficult than expected. Pavtri’s golden bracelets ricocheted off the material and came back to hit him. He made a noise of distress, but Y/n, ignoring the mishap, screamed, "There she is!" A clear opening in the material revealed a short lady. Her entire body was white, and she wore a long dress. Her black hair reached the floor, and she had a pink and red flower crown on her head.

"Y/n!" Gwen called out, "I'm on it!" Y/n responded, pulling out a red staff with golden tips on each side. The staff expanded vertically, breaking through the nearly impenetrable material. "Good job, Monkey Man!" Miles exclaimed before jumping down after Gwen. Y/n pulled his mask down. "Monkey Man? Are you serious? That's not a cool name!" Y/n jumped down, followed by Pavitr.

"Hey, lady!" Miles called out to the woman, who had her back turned to the group. "Why don't you turn around? Let us see that maybe pretty face of yours!" Pavitr joked, perching himself on a nearby crane, ready for any sudden movements. The lady slowly turned around, capturing the attention of the Spider-people.

"AUGHH!" The group screamed in unison as they caught sight of their opponent's face. Instead of eyes, she had black holes with white pupils, while black liquid leaked from her eyes. She had a eerie smile, the amount of liquid mirrored that which came from her eyes. "What on earth is that?!" Y/n exclaimed, disbelief evident in his voice.

"Do you mind me asking... what are you doing here?" Miguel questioned, eyeing the punk who lay sprawled out on the floor. "Nah, go ahead, ask away," Hobie responded, using a tooth pick while making all sorts of funny faces. "I'm just gonna...I can’t even- I'll just ignore him…” Miguel muttered, using his unoccupied hand to soothe his incoming headache. "Whateva...you seen Y/n? I need to him too-“

"Don't even bother making up a lie. I don't need to know about... whatever it is you two do," Miguel interrupted, rolling his eyes. Suddenly, a loud cry echoed through the building, capturing the attention of both men. It was Y/n, being hoisted up by Pavitr, who looked like he had been through a beating and rolled in mud. Peter, who was nearby, rushed to the aid of the bruised teens. "Goodness, what happened to all of you?" Peter asked, trying to ignore Y/n's complaints.

"A lady... with a biwu! She attacked us, mercilessly!" Miles shouted, his hearing temporarily impaired from the battle with the anomaly. Everyone winced at the volume. Miguel emerged from his quarters, with Hobie not far behind. "So, from what I gather, you've dealt with the problem?" Miguel asked, a hint of curiosity in his voice.

"Yeah, but not without a hefty price," Gwen gestured towards the injured Y/n and Miles. Hobie hummed, walking over to his boyfriend. "Care to explain what 'appened?" Hobie took Pavitr's place, supporting his own boyfriend. "She hit me with a biwu!" Y/n pouted, crocodile tears falling from his eyes. Hobie looked slightly amused. "A biwu?" Y/n nodded, and the punk had to restrain himself from bursting into laughter. "Alrigh’ then... let's go lie down. 'mm sure you're in pain," Hobie said, guiding his limping boyfriend towards a nearby couch. Y/n's theatricality seemed to amplify in the presence of Hobie. "Should we tell him how Miles pushed him into the line of fire?" Pavitr asked. Gwen quickly shook her head. "Nah, if we do, he won't let Miles live it down. Besides, I'm sure he's got enough explaining to do to his parents," Gwen gestured to Miles, who was smacking the side of his head, trying to regain his hearing. Miles perked up, noticing his friends looking at him. "Did you say something, Gwen?!" Miles shouted, oblivious to the fact that his own volume was still heightened.

[deliciousbasementtrash]

Playing Nurse for the Batfam

From Injustice Gods Among Us Year 5 #15

Summary: you are a nurse working for Gotham General Hospital. Batman has offered you a job. Will you take it?

Pairing: Slowburn Jason Todd x reader, (maybe a why choose with Dick Grayson as well?? Idk tell me what you guys want)

Warning: Adult language, parental abuse, parental neglect

Word Count: 1.6k

Note: These characters are not my own they belong to DC. The only character that is 'mine' is the reader. I am going to be as nondescript as possible for the reader as well for physical attributes. This is a continuation series; I’m not sure how long it will be. Also for some reason, my replies to comments are not showing up. I’m not ignoring your comments Tumblr won’t let me respond :( But please, please comment I live for it 

Part One, Part Two

Part Three: Skip-Bo and Chess

My mind raced as I went over the contract. Everything seemed too simple, too easy. The only terms and conditions I had to abide by were that I wouldn’t reveal his identity and that I would need to essentially be on call from the hours of 21:00 to 7:00, but roughly 24/7. The pay was a ridiculous amount. The insurance was crazy good. I didn’t realize it was possible to get that much coverage. But this went against everything I have represented in my life. Would I be betraying the people of Gotham, my patients, and my fellow coworkers, by taking this job? Would I be betraying myself and my past history? 

Gotham City: 16 Years Ago 

My father and I stood over my mother’s grave. It was strange. My mom was a woman who breathed life into everything. She never wore a dull color, she danced whenever she could, and she sang horribly and off tune. She wore her hair in two long braids with colorful ribbons. She wore sweet perfume. She wore red lipstick. She wore so many necklaces and bracelets she jingled when she walked. She snorted when she laughed. And now when I looked at her all I saw was dirt and a gravestone. Her colorfulness, her loudness, her laughter, her joy, all of it was gone. I knew I couldn’t cry though. Not in front of Dad. He got so much meaner when I did. Sometimes I wonder what my beautiful, colorful, caring mother saw in this cruel bleak man. But I guess his bitterness was supposed to balance out her sweetness. 

But without her, it felt like I was choking on the disgusting taste of my reality. We were grieving. We had no money. And the debt just seemed to be getting deeper and deeper. I tried selling homemade cookies at school to help out. I raised about 22 dollars. I came home with a smile on my face and handed my father the money. He pocketed it without another word. It was almost worse when he was like this.

It felt like he was a teapot that was brewing and I was just waiting for the wrong thing to set him off. 

Some days when I came home from school he was home. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t look at me. Other days he wasn’t there. I had to scavenge the house for food or walk to the convenience store with what little money I had scurried away. 

It felt like my life had become black and white without my mom. Everything seemed so hopelessly bad. Then one day my dad came home with a smile on his face. My first instinct was to tense my body and avert my gaze. I didn’t know what he was going to do. 

“Sweetie, come with me. I have an idea,” my father said, grabbing my wrist and pulling me out the door with him. 

He drove like a maniac and pulled up towards a seemingly abandoned building. My blood ran cold with anticipation. 

My father practically ripped me out of the car and dragged me inside. Inside there were about twenty men all pretty beat up. All of them looked at me. I picked at my hangnails and looked at my father. 

“Y/n, these gentlemen need to be healed. Be a doll and heal them.” My father’s words were clipped, and my pulse raced. I merely nodded and healed man after man. It became clear to me, even at my young age, that these men were a part of a gang. Who’s? I had no idea. 

That was until a fat man in a tuxedo and a cane walked up to my father. He handed him a bundle of cash, they whispered some hurried words and the grotesque man leaned down towards me.

His short fat finger booped my nose, and the man tilted his head back and laughed at my reaction. I wanted to bite his finger off. I wanted to go home. I wanted my mom. 

For the next two years, my father did business with anyone that could pay him. Our life went from living by the penny to living in luxury. All due to my power. The richest of the rich, politicians, businessmen, criminals, and villains, all used my services. And eventually, they tried to buy me. 

That’s when I decided to run away. Or die trying.

Gotham City: Present Day 

I sat across from Sam, my best friend, and nurse colleague. “What do you think I should do?” She was the only one that I trusted enough to tell everything to. Of course, I left out the whole, ‘My boss would be Batman thing.’ 

“Girl, if you don’t take this job I will kill you,” Sam said, taking a large bite of her pasta. 

“Do you think I’m betraying my younger self? I promised I would never be bought. I would never work for a corrupt man.” 

“Maybe you should discuss with Mr. Wayne, that you would like to remain a nurse part-time. That way you ease your conscious about everything but still live in a fucking MANSION and make BANK, you dummy head. And this way you’re reclaiming your past. You get to choose. You’re not trapped.” 

I mindlessly pushed my food around my plate, lost in thought. “That’s not a terrible idea.” 

“Of course not, I never have bad ideas. Take one more night to think about it. But I think you have your answer.” 

That night I tossed and turned in my bed. I grabbed my phone, the bright screen making me blink. 

[I accept your terms, but I do have a few remediations to the contract. Signed, y/f/n y/l/n.] 

One week later. 

 “How are you taking to your new living situation, Miss y/l/n?” Alfred asked as he expertly julienned an onion. I not as gracefully diced several cloves of garlic across from him. 

I looked up at him, smiling, “I’m still getting used to it, to be honest.” It had become a silent routine over the past week. When I wasn’t working at the hospital, or patching up Batman, I got bored. So, I started helping Alfred with cooking. 

He taught me how to play chess. I taught him how to play Skip-Bo and dominos. I had grown quite fond of the man over the short period. It most definitely was my daddy issues clinging to the first nice man I saw. But Alfred Pennyworth seemed truly kind to me. 

I hadn’t met any other members of Bruce’s family, but supposedly they were all meeting for dinner tonight. For some reason, my pulse spiked at the thought of meeting them. My past gave me anxiety when meeting new people I didn’t know. 

As if reading my thoughts Alfred asked, “How are you feeling about meeting everyone tonight?”

I cut a piece of garlic a bit harshly, “I’m– I’m fine. Do you know if I am to meet them after the dinner or before?”

Alfred’s eyebrows quirked, “What do you mean? You most probably will meet them at dinner. You are attending are you not?”

“I wasn’t sure if I was allowed to eat with the family or not,” I stated, hesitantly. 

I heard a twang of metal as Alfred set down his knife. He gave me his full attention as he said, “Master Wayne may seem abrasive, Miss. But I assure you, he would never have to eat separately unless that is what you wished.” 

Abrasive was one way to put it. He often reminded me of a feral cat when I tried to heal him. He would practically hiss that he was fine. I had to politely remind my employer a few times that this was what I was here for and to let me heal him. 

We cooked in silence for a while, when out of the blue I asked Alfred, “Alfred, are you happy?”

Alfred always holding his poise answered calmly, “Happiness is something that fluctuates in my life, Miss. I will say that knowing that Master Wayne and the rest of the family are in your capable hands is reassuring me as of late. I also have been enjoying your company, no matter how many times you beat me in Skip-Bo.”

I laughed, a true genuine laugh. “Hey, you win every time we play chess!”

Alfred smiled softly, “Miss I have been playing chess since I was five years old. If I lost I think I would have to revoke my Englishmanship.” 

After my laughter died down, another question popped in my head, “What are they like? Mr. Wayne’s family?”

Alfred smiled, “Those children are loud, argumentative, loyal, funny, stubborn, etc. I love those children with everything I am. You will too, Miss y/l/n.”

An unfamiliar sense of warmth bloomed in my chest, “Thank you, Alfred.”

“Thank you, Miss y/l/n.”

As I was getting dressed. I could not pick out what I wanted to wear. Did I want to go casual with a tee shirt and jeans? A bit more formal with a dress? Semi-casual with a skirt and sweater? I decided on the last one, with some tights on underneath. I wanted to make a good impression. It felt like the first day of school. I made my way down the stairs. No one had arrived yet. I took a seat next to Alfred, my leg bouncing. 

Alfred patted my shoulder when we heard the door open, “It will be just fine.” 

The loud oncoming footsteps mimicked my thundering pulse.

[goldenhourwriter]

•✮🕷️𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐤𝐢𝐝🕷️✮•

part one • part two (you are here) •

⋆pairing: miguel o’hara x wife!reader

⋆warning(s): i got translations from spanish dict, if i did something wrong, please correct me. i tried to use the right definitions/context to use those definitions in! also pregnancy.

⋆a/n: oh i love writing sassy spider-people

"And then the hot sandwhiches in the cafeteria suck ass, like, at least melt the cheese. I don't want some luke warm sandwhich that can't decide whether to be hot or cold!"

I hum absentmindely, playing with my bracelets as Ben Parker keeps mumbling and moping on and on about how his life is so terrible compared to all the other Spider-Men. Honestly, when I said he was allowed to get some things off his chest, I thought he meant telling me about the mission that went bad with him, not his whole life story from birth to this moment. He sighs dramtically, plopping his head down at the table we're sitting at, and I flinch at the sudden jolt of motion, my eyes lifting to look at him. He lets out a low, dramtic wail. "See? You don't care either!" He drawls. I roll my eyes.

"Nobody is looking at you, Ben, quit it." He rolls his head to the side with the most awful puppy-eyes I have ever seen. I give him a sarcastic, annoyed smile.

"Sorry, correction. Nobody is looking at you as if they hold any sympathy for you," I tell him as I stand up, having to take a moment to regain my balance from the whale that I am now. He sneers at me, his hair all dishelved from the way he's been tugging at it for the past hour. "I'll have you know that many people give their sympathy to me! There-there should be a book written about me! Or-or even better, a movie!" He calls out with frustration as I walk away from him. I scoff, not even bothering to justify his shouting at me with a glance over my shoulder. The doors to the cafeteria open and then close, and I heave out a sigh.

I think I'd hurl myself out the window if I hear his life story for the 30th time. It's a topic he loves discussing.

"Hey! Y/N!" I hear a familiar voice call out to me. I whip my head around. It could be any spider-person calling my name. From any floor, wall, ceiling, corner, web, anything. You never really know where to look when you work at a place like this.

The voice calls my name again, and this time it's more clearer, calling out behind me. I turn around and see Gwen walking towards me, a smile on her face. I let out a small breath of relief, grateful it's at least someone I enjoy being around, and not like one of the mind-numblingly boring Spder-Men who can't quit talking about how rough they have it. I hope you get who I'm referring to.

I walk a few steps, beginning to speak and raise my hand to wave in greeting, but she stops me with her hands. "No! No! Please, we'll meet you there."

Considerate. I love it. But I also hate it.

I put one hand on my belly, and one hand on my hip, jutting it out with. I give her a soft smile. "You're awre I can still walk, correct? I'm not toally useless," I sigh. She shrugs, not really responding. She holds her hand up to gesture to....something. But I don't really see what it's supposed to be.

"This is Miles," she smiles, with a hint of annoyance in her eye. I look to the side of her which she's gesturing to, but I raise my eyebrows.

"Gwen? Have we really drove you that crazy that you're making people up?" I ask, looking back at her. Her face drops in confusion, and she looks to her side. She groans, throwing her hands down into fists and spins around. I look past her, and I see another teen, presumably Miles, awe-struck and looking around everywhere. He seems a bit lost, but that doesn't hold a candle to the child-like wonder that is clear on his face.

"Miles! I told you not to fall behind!" She shouts at him. Immediatley, he snaps out of his daze, and he looks at her like a lost puppy. I've seen that before. I um, the pieces clicking in my mind, and I watch on with amusement.

This is the kid Gwen usually doesn't shut up about.

I snicker.

Cute, I think to myself as he smiles at her and mumbles an apology. They both clearly have feelings for one another. But, there is that air of nothing is established. A sort of tension. He looks at me finally, and his eyes immediatley drop to my stomach.

"You're pregnant?" He blurts out, and, despite his dark skin, I can still clearly see him blushing at his outburst. I furrow my brows at him, a bit worried that he might faint. Gwen closes her eyes, annoyed, and elbows him in the gut. I bite back a smile while straightening.

"Yes, I am pregnant. And don't even think about apologizing, all the new recruits have the same reaction." I smile as I think back to all of the young adults and teens I've met, each wondering in shock how I'm able to fight crime with two babies in me.

He goes to talk, and stick out his hand for me to shake, but Gwen hits him again.

"He's actually not a recruit, Miguel needed to see him. He's caused a bit of....well..." she trails off. I let out a small sound of understanding as I look at her while she's explaining. I look back at Miles.

"Well, I've already heard so much about you. I really do hope to see you joining our ranks someday," I say politely. I stick out my hand this time, and he takes it, a bit awe-struck. "Well, you know what they say," he says. He holds my hand as I look at him, expecting something. I quirk my eyebrow up. "What? What do they say?" A beat of silence.

"I have no idea."

I stare at him for a moment. Gwen didn't tell me this kid was so dorky. The again, all the Spider-People come from dorky backgrounds. I nod slowly, my hand retracting from his as I put it to my chest. "Great..." I trail off. I shake my head, and I look at Gwen again.

"I was actually just about to go see him, he hasn't had lunch, and I grabbed him an empanada, he usually goes nuts for them," I giggle, holding up the small container in my hand, which was long-forgotten while Ben shared his deepest, darkest corners of his soul. Again.

Miles lights up at the sight of the empanada.

"My grandma used to make those! Fueron los mejores (They were the best)," he beams, putting his hand on is hips, his chest expanding with pride. He bumps his shoulder intp Gwen's, who looks like she wants to crawl into a hole at this moment. I watch with endearment. It is endearing, how he gets all excited. I was the same way learning Spanish, wanting to expand my knowledge for Miguel. I wait for a moment for him to explain himself, my lips quirked up in a small smile.

"See? I know Spanglish," he chuckles, clearly getting prouder of himself. I smile widely.

"Que maravilla (wonderful)," I respond. His face drops, and he looks down, rocking on his feet, his voice growing quiet. I chuckle. "Oh...I see you...know..." "If you don't mind, Miles," Gwen says through gritted teeth. She looks back at me, her smile still strained. "We're going to keep moving along."

I shrug.

"I'll come with, give Miguel his empanada." I walk over to Miles, putting my arm around his shoulder. This throws him off, his eyes growing wide. He glances to the side, then back at me, not knowing what to do. I point to his chest with the empanada-hand. "También me encantaría escuchar más de su español (I'd also love to hear more of his Spanish)," I grin.

✮•

"Oi, there's the little child-bearer," Hobie announces as he gets up from his spot, walking over. He goes to put an arm around me, but I dodge, smacking it away. "Call me that again and I will give you something much, much more painful than giving birth," I growl. He doesn't even looked shocked, he loves riling people up. He pats my head, and walks a bit ahead of us. I scoff at his back, his guitar hanging so loosley off of it it makes me wonder how it's even managed to stay on for that long. I glance over my shoulder at Miles, who still walks a bit behind the rest of us. I slow down my pace, and when we're at the same speed, I whisper to him.

"You okay, kid?" His shoulders tense at that name, so I put my hands up in retreat. "Sorry, I wasn't the biggest fan of it either at your age," I chuckle. He glance at me, trying to find the amusement, but his laugh just comes out....dead. I sigh.

"Listen, Miles, I don't know what happened before you got here. I frankly, maybe I don't want to know. But just know it's nothing we can't fix, alright?" I mumble, bumping my shoulder with his for some light encouragement. He smiles just a tiny bit, his hand coming up to rub the shoulder I bumped bashfully. "Yeah...thanks."

I watch as he walks a bit ahead of me, and I watch as he looks at Gwen with...almost a longing gaze. A bit sad, too. I frown. I know how rough this kid has had it, Gwen's told me, and sometimes I would see him come up in the feed occasionally when I would cover for Miguel, giving him some much-needed rest time. I watched just as I did now, a frown etched on my face, wanting to reach out and tell him that this job does get better, but he wouldn't know I was watching. He still doesn't know I'm watching as we walk through the doors and into my husband's office. I fall into line with the teens, and look up at my husband and his beloved platform. Going down. Slowly. Inch by inch.

I groan inwardly.

This thing again.

I remember my first day here, I thought it was the most terrifying thing, seeing his broad back, all hunched over menacingly over the screens. Then, his mask came down, and I couldn't focus the entire time he was explaining everything to me, I was too focused on his face.

He claims he didn't know what I was doing, but I know that he was just as distracted as I was.

Miles glances at Gwen, and she shakes her head, indicating him not to talk. "I know, it's slow," she says. Miles still looks confused, and he looks over her shoulders and at me. I wave my hand in the air dismissevly. "It's his thing," I mumble under my breath, so Miguel can't hear us. God forbid we ruin his whole macho-'I'm so menacing,' act.

"Miguel O'Hara, meet, Miles Morales!" Gwen announces. No response.

"Ay, ¿Qué tal, tío? (Hey, what's up, dude?)" Miles smiles. "Yeah, I speak Spanish," he announces in front of me for the second time today.

I heave out a sigh, letting my head roll to the front. I look up again, and when I speak, my voice comes out in a shout. I have no idea what he can or can't hear from his mountain hideout.

"Amor, lo entendemos, puedes dominarnos. ¿Apuremos esto, por favor? (Love, we get it, you can overpower us. Let's hurry this up, please?)"

He grumbles something in Spanish, but I can't catch it. He spins around, shooting me a glare. "Glad to see you've met my wife," he says to Miles after giving me a hard look. Miles looks between me and my husband, his eyes scrunched together. He doesn't dare speak yet, however. Miguel smiles angrily, baring his fangs. "Something I had, like most things here now, no control over. Funny, considering I run this place!" His voice gets louder and a bit more sharp as he continues talking, and his hands come to his hips. I roll my eyes, making a sound of annoyance. I heave out a sigh. Miles steps forward, his hands moving while he speaks.

"Listen, man, I'm really excited to get going, I got some fresh new ideas on how to catch the Spot. You know, he just wants to be taken seriously-"

"Oh! Great. Uh-huh, uh-huh," my husband mumbles with a small, pestered smirk as Miles speaks. He lets out a very loud, very agressive roar as he hurls a piece of technology at Miles. Gwen and I both shout with shock, jumping out of the way, and Miles covers his head. Miguel doesn't even stop to consider what he did.

"You were worried about Spot, I'll worry about Spot!" he continues to yell at Miles. Miles is shaking, his eyes bulging with fear at him.

Gwen looks violated, and a bit worried for her friend. "Miguel! It's not his fault!" Miles agrees with her, nodding repeatedly.

"It was his fault, he blew another hole in the multiverse!"

"He didn't know any better!" Gwen shoots back. Miles doesn't quite know what to say, standing there awkardly, as if he and his friends' mom are fighting.

I step forward now, my head lowering as the platforms still moves slowly down.

"Miguel, think about throwing wires at someone! He was just tryng to do what Spider-Man does!" I try to rationalize. His head looks sharply to me, his eyes glowing red. It doesn't faze me, however. I've been on the receiving end of that look a few times, so I'm used to it. "Y/N, you're supposed to be on maternity leave!" He shouts. He holds up a hand, holding in a breath.

"Just...nevermind. You all knew what the risk here was! Gwen! You did! And you-!" Miguel looks to Hobie, pointing at him. Hobie is sliding down a metal arch, head first, on his back, just...enjoying life. As if this is really just his entertainment he threw together. Miguel sighs. "I was gonna try to ignore you," he pauses, before looking away again. "I can't, I just can't-"

"I ain't even here," Hobie mumbles in his thick accent. Miguel shakes his head, his thumb and index finger squeezing the bridge of his nose. He shakes his head as he walks a bit down the platform. I glance towards Gwen, who is already looking at me, silently begging me to say something, anything to try and calm my husband down. I sigh.

"Miguel, darling," I begin. Hobie groans.

"You know, just as a heads up, how married are you two gonna be today? Because I'm debating whether or not to sit here through all the pet names," he says, very annoyed, as he gets up from his seat, walking over to me and putting his arm on my head. He looks down at me, expecting an answer. I let a glare linger on him, and I look back at Miguel.

Miguel turns around again, his gaze boring into my eyes. "You fixed the whole catastrophe on Earth 199999, we can fix this. Don't go so hard on the kid!" I exclaim, gesturing towards Miles. He puts one hand on his hip, and another up to drag across his face, stretching it out.

"No, no, Y/N. He blew another hole in the multiverse! And that little...nerd and Doctor Strange fixed it. Not me! I'm just there to clean up stuff they don't know about so their lives can continue on, all happy and perfect!"

We all stay silent. Hobie lets out a low whistle, and Lyla appears on my shoulder. "I think he's projecting again," she whispers in my ear.

Miguel gestures for me to come over, once his platform has hit the ground, and I sigh, walking over.

"Can you just-just take my side on this? You've seen what these things can do," he murmurs lowly.

"Frankly, I think you should go lighter on him. He hasn't been here for more than 10 minutes, this is all very new. Quit yelling!"

"Uh-oh, mommy and daddy are fighting!" We hear a different, slightly older voice calling.

Hobie calls out. "Oh boy! Humbling reality Spider-Man has arrived!"

Miguel's whole body tenses, and his eyes shut with annoyance and anger. I turn to the door, and in walks Peter B. Parker. The man who practically trained Miles, and the man who thinks he's Miguel's best friend.

He walks in wearing a pink robe over his spider suit, and a baby carrier, but, no baby. He chuckles, a warm smile on his face. "Besides, Y/N's right, don't be so hard on the kid. He had a terrible teacher! He had no chance!"

"Peter!" Miles bounds over to him, giving him a big hug. Peter chuckles, patting his head. "Hey, kid! Don't mind my friend Miguel here, he looks scary but he's got no bite!"

Miguel growls, turning his back towards everyone, mumbling some curses, followed by Peter's name. Peter then makes eye contact with me. "Y/N! You're getting so big!" Miguel turns his head around sharply, his eyes glowing and his fangs baring with rage at his comment.

He winces immediatley. "Forget I said that."

Miles begins to ask him a string of questions, but his eyes travel down to the baby carrier. "Wait-what's is that? You have a baby!" He asks, pointing to it. Peter pats the carrier proudly.

"I have a baby!" He exclaims, mimicking Miles' excitement. At that perfect moment, Mayday crawls down from the ceiling, cooing. I get happy instantly, and she sees me, and squeals. She begins crawling on the walls, cooing and talking to herself in a string of babbles as I wave towards her, beckoning her over.

"Kid's an anarchist," Hobie mutters to himself. I frown at him, but I can't help but feel a bit of amusement at this.

"Don't forget to keep your daypass on, honey!" He calls out. He chuckles, and he begins to climb up the wall too, calling out to his child. Miguel shakes his head, letting his head rest in his hand, muttering "no puedo más," in a low, stressed voice. I put a hand on his back.

"Sólo aligerar (just lighten up), it's a baby, amor."

"¡No voy a entrar en esto ahora mismo! (I am not getting into this right now!)" He hisses, I hold my hands next to my head, signalling fake surrender, and turn back to father and daughter.

Peter laughs, reaching out for Mayday, but she swings away with her own webshooters. She swings next to me, landing on one of the consoles, and I pick her up, nuzzling my nose against hers.

"I knew I was gonna regret making her that webshooter, I shouldn't have done it, that's an actual mistake." Peter hops down, watching me as I play with Mayday. She reaches out to Miguel, and I put her on his shoulder. Besides, I'm not supposed to be carrying anything heavier than 20 pounds. Miguel just stares ahead. Peter perks up again, taking out his phone. "You guys wanna see pictures?"

He runs over to Miles and Gwen, putting his arms around their shoulders.

"Are-are you sure? She's right there..." Gwen trails off when Peter turns on his phone. "This one is the studious one, and-and, oh! The next one you're gonna crack up! Oh-oh, Miguel's gonna die" He laughs. I beam at him. He seems so proud and such a loving father. I put a hand over my pregnant belly.

Peter runs over to Miguel, showing him pictures. "You know I'm trying to hold a serious, adult conversation here," Miguel says quietly as he tries to keep staring ahead. Mayday crawls all over him, sometimes hitting him gently. Peter groans.

"You know, you're the only Spider-Man who isn't funny, we're supposed to be funny!"

"The fate of the multi-verse-"

"You always lose me with that!. You say "the fate of the multiverse," and my brain dies!" He exclaims. Mayday rolls on Miguel's shoulder, sqeualing when she falls. Miguel catches her, holding her like a....football. I roll my eyes. "Será mejor que no seas así cuando tenga a tus hijos (you better not be like this when I have your children)," I say to him. He shakes his head, his eyes wide with shock and offense. "Wha-I-no! I'm just not the biggest fan of the Parkers! Sabes que puedo ser muy amoroso cuando él no está aquí para molestarme, ¿verdad, mi amor? (you do know I can be very loving when he isn't here to annoy me, right my love?)" He says through gritted teeth, trying to keep his voice to a level so that only I could hear it. I put my hands on my hips, giving him a 'then show it,' look. Peter puts his hand over his heart in mock offense.

"Wow, you truly hurt me. And Mayday. You want a baby's feelings being hurt on your conscience?" He stops, and sniffs the air, then looks at Mayday. "You smell that guys? Mayday took a crap. She's a Parker!" He calls out, taking her from Miguel and walking towards where he came in. "That's what hapens when a Parker eats an avocado..."

Miguel sighs, walking over to me and putting his forehead on the top of my head defeatedly, shutting his eyes. He's exhausted, I know that, and our height difference allows us some very interesting advantages. I reach around his neck and pat his head like a little kid as I watch Hobie pick Mayday up, saluting her.

Miguel straightens again, stepping away from me. He addresses Miles again, this timecalmer, but he's still annoyed. With everyone around him. Well, not me. I smirk. He could never be too annoyed with me.

"Miles," he begins, putting his hands on his hips. "You disrupted a canon event.

"Canon event?" Miles asks, but before Miguel can explain, Peter B. pops up again, a full spider web now formed as Mayday crawls and bounces on it.

"The kid wasn't thinking. That's not how he works!"

"That's insulting."

Miles takes a few steps to the right, looking at the ground thinking. "Wait," he looks bakc up at Miguel. Miguel raises his eyebrows, waiting for him to continue. "What are you upset about, I saved those people!"

Miguel fully steps off his platform. I give him a look, silently shushing him.

I take a step towards Miles, putting a hand on his shoulder, looking at him. "That, unfortunatley, is the problem here," I sigh, looking at him, implying an apology with my tone. Confusion is etched onto his face, and I can't blame him.

"Lyla," Miguel calls out. The hologram appears. "Do the thing."

"The thing?" I ask. Lyla smirks. "What thing?" She continues for me.

"What do you mean, what thing? The information explain-y thing!"

I scoff, taking my hand off of Miles' shoulder. "You're sounding like a mob boss, sweetie. We're not that kind of powerful," I tease, poking him in the side. Lyla laughs, but pulls up the vast, complicated web of canon events, similarities, and differences of all the Spider-People.

"Woah."

Miles steps forward, turning in a circle around himself, oogling at the intricate design.

"What's this?" He breathes out.

"This, is everything."

[cowgirlcherrie]

college! abby headcanons

 ⊹༝̩̩̥͙ ༓༝̩̩̥͙

warnings: 18+ MDNI, contains both fluff and a smidge of smut, strap, touching, petnames, cursing, weed, Ellie n Abby are friends in this, suggestive in some parts

a/n: no bc I actually drooool at the thought of college abby, so here are some head-canons I have for her, feel free to request in my ask box for ellie or abby, maybe even both, my asks box is always open so don’t shy away from sending what you want to see, but other than that, reader is CANONLY black in this, so some of the points kind of cater to a black! reader specifically (like descriptions etc) but I hope you enjoy this, much love always

༓ Oh my gosh don't get me started, college Abby is literally different

༓ Actually is succeeding academically, she is crazy smart and her GPA is high

༓ a lot of it stems from the fact that she hates letting new people into her circle, so she has grown a comfortable balance in her campus social life

༓ Always has her headphones in, that's her silent way of saying don't talk to me

༓ So many people have a crush on her but she literally does not careee

༓ The first time she met you though, she was willing to bend her no new friends rule, but you weren't exactly new

༓ Abby didn't realize how little she paid attention until a particular afternoon, when you walked up to the lunch table, that sat herself, Ellie (her roommate), and Ellie's girlfriend Dina who happened to be yours.

༓ Your appearance is what struck her, lips parting at the sight of you, practically drooling at the table. Ellie could only smirk from Abby's left watching the girl's brain combust at the sight of you. Your hair was braided, with your edges swooped softly, glossed lips, and stacked bracelets on your wrist. The colors of your outfit complimented your skin really well making making Abby suddenly feel hot.

༓ Your voice too! oh, Abby was heated, it was soft like butter and silk, the way you annunciated your words with a faint accent to them.

༓Abby watched the way your hips moved as you walked away from the table, you cutely waving at everyone including herself.

༓ "Who was that" Abby rushes, snatching the headphones off of her ears and pulling out the Instagram app on her phone to quickly type your name in with ease.

༓ "Really Abby it's been 4 months, that's my roommate y/n, and before you ask, yes! they’re gay"

༓ Oh Abby is and was obsessed with you, she always wanted you to be around and would even ask if you would join them when the group was hanging out

༓ "Oh my god, just fuck already" Ellie moaned in annoyance rubbing her temples, "Both of you are pissing me off"

༓ Anonymous tip masc2masc, Ellie basically told Abby that you were just as heated about her as she was for you, and that was like music to her ears.

༓ Abby works out all the time, no doubt

༓ the type to use the pull-up bar, with one hand, while reading with the other

༓ Abby is an R&B enjoyer, smooth jams, 90s classics

༓ totally listens to Brent Faiyaz, not because she's toxic or anything she just likes his music

༓ You were a bit thrown when she turned on Aaliyah and Ginuwine and she actually knew the lyrics word for word

༓ Abby does end up joining a sports team, either lacrosse or soccer, maybe even both when she feels ambitious

༓ Abby comes to Dina's dorm looking for Ellie only to be met by a tired you opening the door, in both a bonnet and your pajamas. Even when you weren't wearing any makeup you looked beautiful to her, she was infatuated.

"Ellie here?" Abby cleared her throat scratching at the back of her neck, her hair was free from its usual braid, flowing down her back in uniform as she wore a black hoodie that clung to her body just right, and black basketball shorts to match.

"Abby you speak?" you questioned, having to pinch yourself a few times to see if it was a dream.

"b'quiet pretty, answer the question"

༓ Abby must have been lucky that night, because not only were the two sleeping but that now left you and herself alone at the ripe hour of 10:30pm

༓ That night resulted in you tangled in Abby's sheets while her name left your mouth. Abby got a rise out of hearing you scream it, not caring about the curfew that the dorms had in place that might even result in her getting a noise complaint from the RA's.

༓ "you━ look so...pretty under me"Abby grunted out sparsely between each stroke that she gave you with her strap, her face was by your ear to whisper every little thought she's had about you inside, "mmm━ fuck... d-do you know how long I waited for this sweetheart"

༓ definitely doesn't one night stand you, y'all start exclusively seeing each other after that night and Abby doesn't hear the end of it from Ellie

༓ Abby, like Ellie, is so touchy with you that it serves as a way for her to tell you that she's right there with you without verbally saying it.

༓ Definitely keeps one hand on your thigh

༓ When you see her after doing well on a quiz or exam she always tells you that she "has a treat for you" which is really just an endless night of her fucking you.

༓ Believe it or not, Abby actually does go to the library, considering that recently the dorm has gotten loud (by loud, weed loud...Ellie) she does all her work in the library to avoid succumbing to cyphing with Ellie, which she can't because she gets drug-tested for sports.

༓ Only late to class if she doesn't like the professor

༓ Dina is letting her in all the time while you're sleeping and she just sits next to your sleeping body, rubbing her ring-coated fingers across your cheeks as she browsed the internet

༓ captain and leader of the 'u up?' text club

༓ considering that Abby braids her own hair, she is determined to learn how to braid yours as well so she can help you with your protective styles

༓ literally such a good girlfriend and academic god in one, Ellie and Dina were surprised it took the two of you 4 months to actually meet .

[lace-coffin]

Slasher autism headcanons

Requests are open!

is this just me projecting onto other slashers? Absolutely! It’s like the spider man pointing at eachother meme but it’s just me and slashers both having autism 😌

Tw: slight mentions of meltdowns and self injuring stims

Billy Lenz

*slaps him like the hood of a car* “do you know how much autism you can fit in here?”

Billy struggles with loud noises especially repetitive ones. He often holds the phone far away from his ear when calling the sorority because he can’t stand the call tone. please get him some headphones or ear defenders

Despite this he enjoys making a lot of noise through vocal stimming/echolalia, picking up on words or phrases he hears from you or the others at the sorority. He usually has a record playing to keep him from getting under-stimulated, though this can be a delicate balance because sometimes it helps and sometimes it’s too much and annoys him.

Billy is hyper verbal (this may be more of an adhd thing I’m unsure) he has so many thoughts he needs to voice to the point where it feels like he’s going to explode if he doesn’t get them out audibly. He does struggle knowing when it’s his turn to talk though so he may accidentally talk over you.

Billy tends to get along with animals better, connecting to them just feels easier and more natural. He loves to hang out with Claude and rub his face against his fur.

Billy often throws and breaks things during meltdowns, doing it in the heat of the moment and regretting it later if it was something he cared about. Please reassure him it’s not his fault and help him clean it up/ fix it when he feels ready to be around people again.

May not be purely and autism thing but affection bites for sure

Bubba sawyer

Bubba stims in a lot of ways. Flapping his hands in excitement and doing little dances. I think She would play with the charms on her bracelet she took from Pam when they don’t feel safe to openly stim, say he’s in public somewhere he’s not familiar with or dealing with victims.

They have a habit of hitting their head with their fists during meltdowns and pacing (as seen in the og movie when she’s upset about the victims breaking in when no one’s home)

Bubba is also hyper empathetic, other peoples emotions have a big effect on them, sometimes making it hard to settle when their family is distraught.

Non verbal- speaking feels unnatural and straining for her, her family have never pushed him to talk since it’s clear it’s uncomfortable so she’s happy to communicate via noises and body language. Communication cards may be helpful for when more complex answers are needed.

Loud noises aren’t really a problem for her since he’s running around with a loud ass chainsaw all day but it can become grating after a long day if they’re overstimulated already, they’ll push through it and get the task done but he’ll need some time alone in his room to recuperate after.

Doesn’t leave the house super often, they’re much comfier to be home around people they know. She does occasionally go shopping with Drayton and their siblings but it’s very taxing on her because of all the stimuli so it’s not super often.

Michael Myers

I think he’d have a very specific pallet, not liking inconsistencies in its foods and preferring to stick to the stuff it knows it likes. he has such a sweet tooth and eats a bunch of candy. It likes the texture differences in different kinds of sweets, jelly is a particularly good one. Mikey eats a lot of grilled cheese to, it’s mum used to make it for him a lot as a kid and it’s a staple safe food for him. He likes his food bland and beige (me to mikey)

Very specific about his clothing, labels are an absolute no go and need to be cut out. He only likes to wear one brand of coveralls because they’re the only ones it feels sits right without making him want to crawl out of his skin. So basically its wardrobe is just a bunch of the same brand coveralls. (Like SpongeBob with his identical wardrobe lol)

Non verbal through choice, mikey can talk but finds it uncomfortable to do so it usually doesn’t. If he really needs to get something across that he can’t then it’ll use sign.

Low empathy, Michael feels empathy for people close to him like his mother or you but not for others. He doesn’t really understand why he should care about people unimportant to him.

It’s part of Michael’s routine for you to go to bed together at the same time, it gets gradually more antsy the longer you stay up over bedtime. Eventually if he deems what you’re doing not worthy of staying up for he’ll just pull you away from it and carry you to bed. It also sleeps in a specific position, he has the whole bed to sleep in but prefers to curl up in the same way he did back at smiths grove, apart from there he didn’t have a choice. If you’re asleep and splayed out Michael would rather sleep on the sofa so he can be in its comfy position. He also probably won’t touch you if your wearing pyjamas with a bad texture, brushed cotton is a no and he won’t be cuddling you unless you’re in a safe textured set.

Doesn’t like eye contact much, he feels more comfortable in looking at peoples face if it’s wearing a mask, it’s less intimate and awkward.

Brahms Heelshire

Brahms can go from very clingy to not wanting to be touched very quickly. He adores being attached to you anyway he can, like cuddling you from behind when cooking or wrapping himself around you in bed. Despite this Brahms can get overwhelmed with touch sometimes, the feeling of ‘to much’ buzzing under his skin. If this is the case then he’ll likely need time to himself back in the walls.

Brahms likes everything to be on schedule and to follow the rules. Like we see in the movies he gets upset when his rules are ignored since it throws of his routine and schedule. If you need to do anything extra or take something off the schedule please let him know in advance so he has time to process it.

Low empathy but only for people not super close to him. He understands how he’s expected to react socially to peoples problems/pain and can show it through masking but it’s purely because he thinks it’s what he has to do.

The walls are a safe space for him. His room was the place he felt calmest after what happened with his parents, its decorated to his taste and dimly lit as not to hurt his eyes. His room has everything he needs within close distance so if he’s feeling low on spoons then the fridge is only a few steps away. Plenty of blankets for pressure/burying himself into.

Also we can’t ignore the fact he literally masks with his porcelain doll mask lol

I think Brahms would use too much eye contact as opposed to none, he was taught it was polite in his lessons as a boy and took it slightly to literally. He loves to stare at you affectionately < 3

Asa emory

Special interest in bugs and entomology! I headcanon that he mostly became a professor so he can info dump about his special interests all day to his hearts content. He can get frustrated quickly if he feels he’s not being listened to.

(Ignoring the shitty enclosures in the collector bc I say so) I think proper husbandry would be important to him, he researches for days before he feels comfortable setting up a home for his specimens. If he’s feeling overwhelmed he likes to sit with his bug enclosures, watching over them and rocking himself.

Asa connects to his bugs more, finding them easier to understand , bugs tend to have more readable body language so it’s easier to tell when they want to be left alone without pressing to far. A person may say they’re not upset but are only hiding it to be polite. A tarantula will bare its fangs and let you know when it’s had enough.

Asa is very precise in his traps, planning them thoroughly before assembling, however he can get overwhelmed and upset say if a wire snaps repeatedly or the trap won’t work as it’s supposed to. He can feel himself boiling over and will abruptly stand from him chair, taking himself over to his bug collection to distract himself and hopefully avoid a meltdown.

[sashkacobracelets]

Breathe, relax, take it easy. Life needs to be balanced.🌼

https://sashkaco.com/collections/new

[tiredwitchplant]

Everything You Need to Know About Crystals: Tiger's Eye

Tiger's Eye (The Stone of the Sun)

Color: Golden Yellow with Brown

Hardiness: 7

Rarity: Easy to Obtain

Type: Metamorphic

Chakra Association: Sacral, Solar-Plexus, Third Eye

Deities: Ra, Sekhmet, Durga

Astrological Signs: Capricorn, Leo

Element: Earth, Fire

Planet: Sun

Origin: India, Myanmar, South Africa, USA, Mexico

Powers: The Sun, Protection, Abundance, Luck, Pride, and Justice

Crystals It Works Well With: Cat’s Eye, Chalcedony, Topaz

How It is Created: Tiger’s Eye is basically a quartz but they formed in such an unusual way that the fibers of the mineral called crocidolite are laid down in parallel bands within the structure. This creates its silk like appearance and its “cat’s eye”.

History: Tombs in the ancient city of Ur in Mesopotamia (now Iraq) dating back to 2500 BCE have yielded gold sets with agates, like tiger’s eye and carnelian. The tiger’s eye was very popular due to the belief that it harnessed the power of the earth and the sun. This is why it is associated with the god of the sun, Ra and why Egyptians considered it a very valuable gem. Roman soldiers believed that the tiger’s eye was a symbol of bravery and would ride with pieces of tiger’s eye on them in order to encourage bravery during battles.

What It Can Do:

Shields the energy field or aura from negativity

Clears tension and mental blocks from the solar plexus

Can soothe, calm, and restore one’s body and mind

Banish the evil eye and curses

Attracts money while curbing impulsive spending

Used to detect liars and deceptions

Can increase confidence and pride

Placing it on your third eye can help enhance psychic abilities and balance your lower chakras

Helps unlock and unleash your true desires

Alleviates depression and lifts moods

Reduces crabbing and addictive behavior

How To Get the Best Out of Tiger’s Eye: Wear it in bracelet or amulet form.

How to Cleanse and Charge:

To cleanse: Lay it on a windowsill where the sun shines the most or bury it in your garden where the sun shines the most

To charge: You can also charge it on the windowsill with the sun. The sun really gives it a great charge, especially if one of the deities you work with is a sun god.

Crystal Grid:

Abundance (Spiral)

Base for the grid, such as wood, slate, fossilized wood, or golden card or cloth

Citrine

Goldstone

Green Aventurine

Herkimer Diamond

Jade

Moss Agate

Ruby

Tiger’s Eye

Topaz

If you’re laying a preparatory “cleansing” spiral, start at the topmost point and lay crystals alternately, with the points pointing out from the center.

Place the Goldstone in the center as the keystone.

If laying an abundance grid, begin by placing the Goldstone in the center, stating that your intention is for it to bring abundance into your life.

Lay a spiral of alternated crystals, pointing down and inward, until you reach the Goldstone.

Add a grounding stone if appropriate.

When the grid is no longer required, dismantle it.

Sources

[ddejavvu]

Multiverse Monday with Aaron hotchner comforting you on the jet because you hate flying?

I love your writing! 🤍

thanks so much! 💗

--

Your motion sickness bracelets are not doing their job. Or, maybe they are, maybe you're not nauseous because you're flying, maybe you're nauseous from nerves. It's not the motion of the plane that has your stomach churning, it's the thought of being on it.

Your grip on the seat is close to cracking the cushion open and letting stuffing spill from its confines. It looks like you're just sitting with your arms at your sides, but when Hotch stands up to get himself a refill on coffee, he notices your hand curled into the seat.

He makes his way to the kitchen, intent on not causing a scene. He snags a packet of crackers out of the small snack stash they've got on board, bland so that it wouldn't aggravate your stomach but substantial enough to give you something to do. He's never fixed his coffee faster, and he sets it on the table just before the plane hits mild turbulence. A drop or two sloshes over the rim of his mug, but that's the least of his concerns. Your face goes tight with fear, eyes squeezing shut as your chest puffs with a breath. He crouches by the side of your seat, balancing on his calves with the toes of his shoes planted on the floor of the plane.

"Ease up," He murmurs, and you only notice he's there when he speaks. He takes your hand into his own, squeezing it gently to let you know it's okay to use him as your replacement stress toy. Your fingers are clammy and shaky, but you try to keep them loose so that you don't cut off his circulation.

"Rossi doesn't like flying either," Hotch informs you, and the man turns around to glare at him ferociously from behind, "This doesn't happen often, though. It'll be okay, it's just a little turbulence."

"Turbulence is mostly harmless," Reid revs into action, "That's actually the least of our problems. We should be worried about-"

"Spencer." Hotch snaps, eyes blazing, "Not now."

"Oh." Spencer's face pales, and he eyes your rapidly rising and falling chest, "Uh, right. Sorry Y/L/N."

"He's just rambling." Aaron assures you, "There's no danger, okay? We're fine, we've never had issues with the jet before, and this isn't anything bad. If you want, I'll go ask the pilot when he thinks we'll be out of the clear?"

"No!" You speak without thinking, slightly embarrassed for your outburst, "Uh, I just- can you... stay?"

"Scoot," He nods quickly, keeping your hand in his as he stands. You scramble to the other end of the bench of seats and he slides in next to you, shutting the window that's now directly to your left.

"Thank you," Your voice is thin, trembling with fear, "Uh, I'm really sorry about this, Hotch. I know this probably isn't the most professional thing in the world. But I-!" You let out a squeak at a particularly large jolt of the plane, "I just get nervous."

"It's okay. Everyone's afraid of something, that's human nature. Reid," Hotch calls back to the poor doctor, still probably caught off guard from the way he'd snapped earlier, "Would you go and ask about the turbulence? Just see if he's got an estimate."

"Will do," The lanky man is off towards the cockpit without a second thought.

With an estimate of two minutes of mild turbulence left, all you can do is wait. Hotch keeps you grounded, hand tight around yours and thigh pressed to your own.

"I said everyone was afraid of something," He repeats, keeping conversation to distract you, "Do you want to know what I'm afraid of?"

A few ears perk around the jet; no one wants to miss this. Fortunately, Hotch notices, and leans in to whisper in your ear when you nod, "Weasels."

You frown, "What?"

"They were always so scary on cartoons," Hotch laughs, a breathy sound that hits your neck in a puff of air, "Always stealing people's stuff and running in packs. I was convinced I was going to see some if I ventured to the empty side of the schoolyard. There was a storage shed back there and I knew there was a group of them living inside."

"Weasels," You giggle, albeit weakly. Hotch is glad for any improvement at all, though, and doesn't mind the childish embarrassment, "That's a fair point, they were scary."

"They always smoked those fat cigars," Hotch muses, a smile quirking up his lips, "I thought I was gonna pass out when Rossi first did it in front of me."

That gets you laughing, really laughing. You don't even notice as the plane stabilizes, time slipping away through an hourglass you're not worried enough to search for anymore.

"Derek's claustrophobic, though." Hotch teases, louder this time.

The aforementioned agent looks up; scandalized, "Hey!"

"It's true!" Spencer nods, swatting away a slap that Derek tries aiming for his arm. You're settled back into your seat now, no longer tense and panicked, but Hotch's hand stays firm in your own as Spencer gushes, "There was this one time when we got stuck in an elevator together, and-"

[circe69]

𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐈𝐧 𝐇𝐢𝐦 - 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐

narrative: you get kidnapped by graves, and ghost rescues you (in a very aggressive/sweet manner) part 1 warnings: mentions of kidnapping, injuries, blood, gunshots/guns tags: ghost bringing you coffee, being in tight spaces with him, sweet flirting/shameless flirting, talk of late-night meetings.

a/n: I have this idea of this version of Ghost being younger, maybe early 20's, having just entered the military. I like to think that before he became a "super killer", all he wanted to do was protect and save. And when you came along, I think he saw it as an opportunity to finally save someone who really needed him. In the comics, Ghost lost everything and everyone he ever had, and I like to think he'd find it worth his while to try and save someone again. Just one last time.

🕊️┈┈┈┈ 🕊️┈┈┈┈ 🕊️

You woke up that morning, drenched in sweat and tears soaking your striped pillow. It wasn't the best circumstances, waking up from a nightmare in a room you don't recognize. The weather wasn't helping either, dark storm clouds only a few hundred feet above you and rain causing a visible downpour outside your window.

You dreamt that Graves hadn't let you go, as if your brain was giving you the second option of "what if Ghost hadn't rescued you?" and gave it to you in full, gory detail. Every ounce of you felt disgusting, dirty.

Reaching out to touch your face, you pulled it back and smiled slightly at the lack of blood. Either it had dried up, or the tears washed it for you, flooding away all the revolting liquid that you wished wasn't there at all.

Turning the knob to enter your small room again, you opened the door and your jaw dropped at the sight before you.

Turning the knob to enter your small room again, you opened the door and your jaw dropped at the sight before you.

Turning the knob to enter your small room again, you opened the door and your jaw dropped at the sight before you.

Ghost.

Was sitting on your bed.

"What are you doing in here?" You screeched, crossing your arms over your shoulders in attempt to hide your bare chest.

He jumped up from where he sat on your bed, "I was waiting for you." His tone was quiet, not as stressed as you were. You were slightly thankful for it, the balance between the two of you was perfect, even if you'd never admit it to anyone else.

"Yeah well, I was in the shower."

His mouth stretched into a smile, showing his whitened teeth against his dark pink lips. "I know."

You felt your cheeks flush, and even though the statement should've caused you to tense more, you felt your shoulders relax and slowly drop from the cross they were in, your arms now resting on either side of you.

"Oh."

He sat back down on the bed, reading your face that was now comfortable and not as scrunched up as it was seconds before. One leg crossed over the other knee, and his hands folded together on his lap, fiddling with the small metal bracelet underneath his gloved wrist.

"How are you feeling? Did you sleep okay? Sometimes the AC-"

You interrupted his rambling, "I slept fine. Great actually." Even if it was a lie, in some way, you really did sleep better than you had in a while, feeling safe being underneath the same roof as Ghost. As crazy as it sounded, and maybe if you didn't even realize it yet, he was something you'd longed for, and had for quite a while. Just someone to stand behind, someone to watch first instead of doing everything yourself.

"You look great," he paused to clear his throat, "Better, I mean, then last night."

You smiled at his awkwardness. You could tell small talk wasn't his forte, but it made it better. More genuine, you thought.

"Thanks."

It wasn't until now that you realized you were still standing, dripping wet in a towel, with Ghost staring at you, and you staring back. It wasn't seductive, nothing in his dark brown eyes alluded to anything else except for "I'm glad you're okay."

"Well, I need to," you waved a hand at your towel-clad body, signaling you needed to get dressed. Ghost nodded, clearing his throat once more to clear the silence. "Right, well, your coffee is on the table in the break room. I'll be waiting in there for you when you're done." He made a fist and held it out to you. A fist bump?

You chuckled at his poor demonstration of the gesture, but secretly loved it. He might've been raised by wolves, you were sort of convinced he was, but the fact that he was trying was enough for you to want to do anything for him.

You bumped his fist back, trying to make yourself seem more enthusiastic than you really were, in some way you thought the act in and of itself was Ghost trying to do the same thing. It made things less scary than they were, and even though you were stuck in a nightmare last night, you wouldn't have wanted to be woken up to anything, or anybody, else.

🕊️ ┈┈┈┈ 🕊️┈┈┈┈ 🕊️

After getting dressed in clean, fresh clothes, that somehow smelled like Ghost, you made your way to the break room to grab your morning drink and hopefully get some answers about what you were even doing here.

To your surprise, everyone in the Task Force seemed extremely kind, so kind, in fact, that you thought something must be on your teeth or dirt on your clothes, and they're trying to make you feel better out of pity. But maybe that's just how they all are. Killers by night but sweethearts in the day.

You walked into the break room, the door squeaking upon entrance, and met face to chest with an extremely tall man. Looking up, you felt like you almost broke your neck just trying to make eye contact.

"Y/N, that's König, our best sniper," you heard Ghost get up from his seat and make his way over to you and the hooded beast standing in front of you.

"He's a bit shy, but he means good." Ghost said while patting König on his back, making him jump slightly. "Hello," you tried to say, making as small talk as possible. Not that you were scared, per say, but you wouldn't ever want to get on his bad side.

As König made his way past you and out of the break room, Ghost handed you a cup of hot coffee. "How did it stay hot this whole time?" You spoke, taking a long sip and closing your eyes at the warmth.

"Heated it up over the stove," he stopped to drink his, "It's better that way."

You pursed your lips together, humming in curiosity. "Hey, um, I had a few questions for you, or maybe someone else."

Ghost's eyebrows shot up through his mask, and he turned to lead you to a small, round table. "Ask away."

Clearing your throat, you were slightly nervous. This wasn't a parent-teacher conference, or a job interview. You were about to ask questions regarding the military, regarding your father. It was a big deal.

"Well, I remember you mentioning that Price, your captain, told you that my father put him up to the job of finding me," you began, rubbing a finger on the cold table.

"Yes, that's correct." Ghost said assertively. He was serious when it came to business matters, or maybe he was just serious when it came to you.

You scooted in, nervously placing your hands underneath your thighs. "Well, the strange thing is, I haven't spoken to my father in ye-"

All the sudden, the lights flicked off, and there were multiple gunshots from outside the break room.

"Y/N, get down." His voice was deep, quiet so that only you could hear it. You dove underneath the table, wrapping one of your hands around the leg. Ghosts' gun cocked as he walked up to the door stealthily. He opened it on his brain's command, perfect timing, always. Watching him walk out was like watching someone walk into a burning house. There was fire everywhere, bullets flying across the width of the door, passing him by just an inch every time.

"Ghost!" You screamed, making him turn around immediately. He walked in, shut the door, and threw the table off of you, picking you up into his arms. Just like he carried you to your room the night before, he ran you into the nearest closet and pressed you against the wall. You felt brooms and brushes poking your back, and they dug deeper as Ghost entered the small closet, closing the door behind him and caging himself around you, hands on both sides of your head.

He tore off his mask and slid it on your face, as a way to conceal you better. The smell of him was all you could think about, it surrounded every inch of you. "Please stay quiet." He whispered right next to your ear, making you involuntarily shiver. You nodded, and the only reason you could do that instead of responding with words was because he was so close, he could feel you nodding against his body.

He stayed like that, hovering only a few centimeters above you, chest flat against yours, until the gunshots stopped. What confused you the most was that he stayed with you, he didn't go out to kill all of the people who were trying to kill him. He was protecting you, back faced to the door, ready to give up his life for you.

You looked up into his eyes, and waited until he looked down into yours. They were careful, maybe scared, trying to find something to calm him down. Searching for something in yours to tell him that you're still here, and you're okay.

"I think it's safe to go out, Ghost." You whispered, scared to speak any louder. Not because of safety reasons, but because your personal bodyguard looked like anything above a whisper would make his head explode.

He removed his hands from the wall behind you, but gently put them back after a second and looked you in the eyes. "About your father, I know what you were about to say. And I know, you haven't seen him in years and it's impossible that he would even know where you are, s how-"

"Wait, so you knew about all of this?" You interrupted, slightly pushing Ghost away with a hand on his chest.

"Yes- well, it was a theory."

You weren't sure how to feel. If he had known, why wasn't he fixing it? Was he talking to people? Making sure you were safe?

"Well? Did you find anything out? Is it really just a theory or do you have information?" You crossed your arms across your chest, and popped a hip out, accidently landing a foot directly on top of his.

He smiled, "Easy, tiger," he kicked your foot off of his playfully and placed a boot on your sneaker. "I'm working on it."

"What does 'working on it' mean?" You pursed your lips together and raised your eyebrows, waiting for his response.

His hands left he wall for good, and he started to walk out when you realized the entire troop was out in the break room, congregating around a table and pointing at a digital map. You pulled Ghost back inside by his wrist, "What are you doing! They're gonna think we were up to something!"

He picked you up again while you were still mid-protest and kicked open the closet door, carrying you bridal-style into the break room.

"Well, well, well. Congratulations to the happy couple!" A Scottish man spoke, and you recognized him as the reckless driver from the night before. Soap, was it?

"Thank you, thank you, we're going to Hawaii for our honeymoon actually," Ghost said as he didn't even stop to talk to the rest of his team, and you slapped his chest for his comment. A few of the guys laughed, some just stared and smiled. As Ghost carried you out of the room, he set you down gently a few feet outside of the door into the main hallway of the base.

"Meet me in my room later tonight, say around, 10?"

You gasped, putting a hand over his mouth and looking around to make sure no one heard him. "Are you insane? Why in the world would I do that?" Your words indicated that you were fed up with everything about this man, but the smile on your face said otherwise. You were excited, exhilarated at the thought of sneaking out. You felt like a teenager again, like a little kid "escaping" from your mother when you see an old friend from across the grocery store.

"You want information, don't ya?" He said slyly. His British accent was always strong, but the Manchester in him really came out when he was shamelessly flirting with you.

You clicked your tongue a few times, "That's true, I suppose."

"Well, I suppose I'll be seeing you at 10 PM tonight." Ghost started to walk away, towards a meeting or a training session, you were sure.

"Isn't that awfully late?" You yelled to his back, taking a few small steps after him.

"You'd be there 'till around that time anyway, wouldn't ya?" He said from over his shoulder, and your cheeks flushed with hot fire. Your mouth opened, but you found no response to the statement that you knew was absolutely true.

🕊️┈┈┈┈🕊️┈┈┈┈ 🕊️

taglist! - @hauntingtherosebush @bunkvo @lialacleaf @lainphotography @ryunniez @mildlyhopeless

[tinydeskwriter]

Grammy Night 23’

"I feel like I'm going to burst the seams of the dress."  Y/n commented looking at herself in the mirror as Lamby's assistant finished zipping her dress, her breasts were almost bursting out of it, a beautiful creation made of Swarovski silver crystals.

 “Darling, you are going to be the hottest woman on that carpet.”  Her husband’s stylist praised her  bringing in his hand the fishnet mask with crystals that would go over her eyes and dyed peacock feathers that went on the back of her head. “See if the crystals will get in the way of you seeing.”

“Honey Baby, how do I look?” Y/n turned to see her husband walking into the room, she knew what he would wear, she had seen the sketches but it was another thing to see the final result.  Harry looked hot as hell, the colorful crystal patchwork jumpsuit couldn't be more perfect on him, it showed his chiseled body, the tattoos,  the fantastic chest his fans—and wife—are crazy about, all the hair, the lonely curl... Harry just smiled, the answer to his question was clear in the way his wife stared at him.  "See people, that's why we have three kids."  He joked pointing to his wife,  causing their team to laugh.  “You are a vision Honey.” He said pecking her on the lips, hands going to her waist. “My favorite MILF.” He whispers, kissing her neck.

“Says the man who half the internet calls ‘’Daddy’” She teases.

“Having my kids did good to you.”  He jokes staring at his wife's cleavage. 

Y/n just rolls her eyes, a smile still in her face. 

“Darling, Sue, sorry to interrupt your dirty talk,  but it’s frosting time, and then you guys are good to go.” Lambert came their way with a jewelry tray.  

Before Lamby could start helping Y/n with the pieces of jewelry they'd selected at Tiffany's in NYC the week before, H interrupted him, pulling a chain from his pocket.  

“You don't have to wear it today, I bought it as a push present and also celebrate my Grammy nominations, I wouldn't be here today without you, My Love.”  The chain was white gold, delicate with colored stones, and a teardrop diamond the same color as her engagement ring held by a fig.

The woman was speechless, looking from the necklace to her lover of more than a decade.  It was a substantial gift, but Harry had always been generous, and he enjoyed spoiling her since they’re teens and couldn’t afford diamonds. She just turned around, allowing him to fasten the jewel around her neck.  She ran her hand over the diamond, it was the exact same color as her engagement ring—a fancy green diamond almost the same color of her husbands eyes—.

“My Love… this is beautiful, thank you so much.” She turned around, taking his face between her hands and kissing him passionately, trying to express through the kiss all her love for him.

Harry smiled into the kiss, his hands tightening on her hips.

Jeff came in at that exact moment to inform them that the car was already waiting to take them from the Chateau to the Crypto.com Arena. 

Lambert and his assistant quickly help Y/n put on all the jewelry Tiffany had borrowed them, the Edwardian choker, which complemented the necklace Harry had given her, a mishmash of earrings—a massive chandelier, followed by a dainty stud, and diamond hoops—in all of her ear piercings, a beautiful Art Deco bracelet mixed with the colorful collection of  tennis bracelets Y/n wore to mark every Mother's Day since the birth of her eldest son. 

On her fingers she preferred to go with her usual rings. 

 Her engagement ring and wedding band were the only rings on her left hand.  While on the right she wore the same 'S' as H on her little finger, a delicate 'H' in colored diamonds, infinity bands of different stones, and a vintage solitaire on her index finger—a Christmas present the kids had picked out with Grandma Anne —.

Lambert's assistant helped her on with her shoes—high-heeled Mary Janes from Gucci—while she was held by both Harrys to keep her balance.

As they were rushed to the car by Jeff, Y/n remembered to turn around and ask someone to remember to pack her breast pump along with the rest of their outfits.

In the car, to try and ease Harry's anxiety, they video-phoned the children—who were being watched by Gemma and Anne—Primrose answered their grandmother's cell phone, dressed in a bear onesies that made her look like a teddy bear, showing the TV room to her parents and the snacks gran-gran made, auntie Gemma sitting in the couch  with a sleeping  baby Bluebell, the three months old dressed just like her big sister.  Otto was in the bathroom according to Prim who was chattering non-stop making Harry smile more relaxed.

It always warmed Y/n’s heart that nothing could make H as happy and relaxed as their babies. 

They said goodbye to their daughter when the car stopped in front of the arena, Y/n handing over the phone to Jeff to keep. Harry get out of the car first and waits in the doorway to help his wife out and supports her from behind as they make the slightly uneven path between the car and the carpet, his right hand firmly on her right while his left hand was firmly on her hip, and she held his wrist for more balance.  The couple made their way under the screams of fans and the flash of cameras.

It was only when they were already at a certain point on the carpet that Harry placed himself next to his wife and the two started to walk hand in hand.  They stops for photos along the way, but don't do any interviews, heading straight for the cocktail area. The couple interacted with acquaintances and friends, especially those they hadn't seen in a while. The last two and a half years have been crazy, Fine Line, Covid 19, quarantine with two young children, Pleasing, Harry filming and premieres, Harry’s House, Love on Tour and a new baby.  They were busy and it seemed like they rarely had time for their friends, as all their free time was being spent with the little  family they had created together. 

Both changed clothes in Harry's designated dressing room before heading to their seats—crystal outfits were cute but impractical when you have to sit for hours, Harry donned a Gucci suit costume made for him, while Y/n wore a silver sequin  Markarian gown matching Harry's shirt. The couple certainly looks gorgeous, always matching theirs outfits in subtle ways.

They have their hands clasped together, she holding his hands so he wouldn’t pick on his cuticles, Harry is quieter than usual allowing Y/n to take the lead and interact with other people—which, having been married to him for nearly eight years, and knowing him since she was born, she could tell it was a sign of nervousness. 

She whispered to him how amazing the album was and that he didn't need the validation that it was a little golden gramophone for the world to know that.

Nervousness turns to euphoria when Harry becomes the first winner of the night, taking the award for best pop album. 

Y/n didn't even hear Jennifer Lopez's introductory speech, her eyes focused on Harry's handsome profile.  

Y/n is the first to his feet when he hears Harry's name being screamed by J.Lo, applauding his husband energetically, the smile on Harry's face is blinding, he takes his wife's face between his hands and kisses her, before continuing to be hugged and greeted by people around the table and nearby. She has tears in her eyes, which the cameras make a point of showing when they zoom in on her at the exact moment when Harry on stage dedicates the award to his wife for being his muse and inspiration.

One of the highlights of the night for the couple was without a doubt the fact that Y/n had been invited to present the performance of 'As It Was'.  

In a gold-metal mesh top and long skirt, showing off her midriff, the woman who had become famous at fifteen as Harry Styles' 'best friend' took the stage flanked by her two eldest children, seven-year-old Otto, dressed in a pink suit and beige turtleneck by Gucci and a crochet daisy bucket hat covering his curls, and adorable four-year-old Primrose, twining with her brother in a blue Gucci suit, her curls adorned by a huge crystal bow.

“Many of you fell in love with the next artist to perform here tonight in 2011 when he became one of the members of one of the biggest boy bands in history, he has been delivering hits ever since, amassing fans around the world, and delighting hearts with his music, he is an icon, a sex symbol, and one of the greatest musicians of our time, but for us he is simply the greatest husband and father, it is with immense pleasure that I am here tonight, with our two eldest children, to introduce one of the most authentic, generous, kind artists on the planet, the love of my existence, here, to delight us with his Grammy-nominated song 'As It Was', my husband and father of my children,” She lowered the microphone, allowing the two children to squeal excitedly into the device, “Harry Styles!”  

And for the first time in a live performance Primrose was present to say the already famous: ‘Come on Daddy! We wanna say good night to you!' driving the audience crazy.

Y/n and the kids made their way to their table dancing to her husband’s song, the mother of three splitting her attention between walking in her heels and looking where the kids were going, Otto made a short stop dancing with Taylor Swift, and saying something to her that made the singer throw her head back laughing. Y/n greeted Taylor with kisses on the cheek before redirecting her son to their table.  

An extra chair was brought over for Otto—who was at the next table greeting Lizzo and Adele.

Prim sat in Harry's chair waiting for daddy, and Y/n wouldn't even insist that the little girl sit on her lap, as she knew she couldn't compete with her husband when it came to their children. When they least expected it, Harry was back, in his Gucci suit—and not in what Otto was referring to as ‘daddy bedazzled Chewbacca costume’.

"Surprise!"  Y/n sings to her husband as he lifts their daughter up, making the little girl giggle, and sat with her on his lap, kissing their daughter's cheek, and fist bumping their son.

It was a surprise she had been planning for over a week, at times she was afraid someone would let it out, especially Prim, who was known in the family for not being able to keep secrets—just like her daddy.

“Thank you, Honey Baby.” He thanked his wife with a peck, his whole face lit up with the appearance of the children. “You look godly.” Harry  complimented her, eyes roaming all over the outfit, he knew what a big step it was for his wife to wear something so daring after three pregnancies, despite her beautiful body—especially in his eyes—Y/n was insecure about her stretch marks.

“Thank you, my life.” She pulled his hand to hers and kissed the back of his hand. 

They watched the awards half-heartedly, at every turn Otto and Prim brought their parents' attention to them with funny anecdotes, and Y/n was having to keep a hand on their son's shoulder to make sure the boy didn't wander off. The family of four cheered when Lizzo was announced as the winner of Song of the Year, Otto ran with open arms to the honorary auntie congratulating her for the award, he didn't even care that 'daddy' had lost, auntie Lizzo had won! 

With every moment that passed, anxiety rose, Y/n was confident in her husband’s album—the album she had inspired—, while Harry was sure Album of the Year was between Beyonce and Bad Bunny. 

She shook Harry's hand as Noah Trevor took the stage to announce the final awards of the night, asking fans of the nominees to join him, when the comedian asked Harry's fan to read the name on the envelope, Harry broke down with gratefulness, disbelieve, joy…

 Prim clung to her father's neck screaming that he had won. 

 Y/n stood up applauding her husband, Otto hugging his mother's hips showing his father’s  twin smile, dimples and all. 

 Harry got to his feet after composing himself, smiling Primrose hanging on his neck with  her legs curled around his hips. 

Harry kissed his wife with a huge smile, ruffled his son's curls, hugged Jeff, Tyler and Tom, Lizzo, who filmed everything excited.  The singer took the stage with his children and their two producers, he put Prim on the floor so he could hug his fan and accept his award, Primrose and Otto hugging him on either side.

“Shit…well, shit.”  He looked at his children. “Sorry kids.”

H was speechless, Y/n could see it from a distance.

Jeff wrapped a arm around her when she started to tear up. 

Harry was so humbled and grateful, and this was such a huge moment in his career, and she was so proud of the man she had married.  The boy from Holmes Chapel who worked in a bakery and always came to pick her up with cupcakes in his hands and flowers he had picked from the neighbor's garden. Her husband was a three times Grammy Award winner, and he had just owned the biggest award of the night.  

The woman frowned as she heard people in the audience yelling negativity at her husband, how Beyonce should have won and some yelling at him to get off the stage. 

 This was his moment, it wasn't his choice to win, two thousand of his peers had voted and chosen him, chosen Harry's House as the best Album. Everyone is entitled to their opinion, but you don't have to be an asshole. 

 Treat People With Kindness. 

 She was happy to see Beyonce, Taylor Swift, Shania, Lizzo, H.E.R and Adele giving him a standing ovation, and hearing his shaken speech.  

He once again dedicated it to her and their kids, calling them ‘his home’. Y/n quickly joined her husband backstage, arms going around Harrys’s neck, as his hands found her hips. The couple smiled at each other before kissing passionately, his team applauding the moment. 

“I’am so proud of you, My Life.” She held his face in her hands. “You did it! You put out an amazing album, delivered a killer tour, 2022 was your year, and you deserved that Album of the Year award!” She states brushing his nose with hers, a huge smile on her face before kissing him again.

[ghost-runner]

“Useless” and “Troubled” until the End: Pt. 1

Sully Family x “Useless” Fourth Child male reader

Summary: Y/N is the fourth child of the Sully family after Lo’ak and before Tuk, however, things don’t always seem to be great about being a Sully child when you are forgotten about a lot of the time. It doesn’t help when you also don’t get the normal training or bonds your siblings did so you tend to get into trouble a lot for trying to prove yourself doing the things your siblings can do.

Warnings: Gore, blood, cursing, family arguments….

Note: I’m not too well versed in the language of the Na’vi so I’m not going to try doing it, just in case I end up completely butchering it without meaning to.

— Y/N POV

I knew better than to be out by myself at these hours against my father’s orders. Even after already being grounded once for disobeying dad’s orders a few days ago for secretly following my brothers on a hunt, I don’t care if I get into more trouble for being out here right now. I’m the “black sheep” of the Sully family as some Sky-people would say from what I know of my dad’s home planet of Earth. I never had much training from my parents as I grew up so this caused me to learn from my siblings and train myself in secret behind everyone’s back. This has strained my relationship with my parents and it doesn’t help that dad has been harsh on Neteyam, Lo’ak, and I with raising us, further straining said relationship with him and mom.

Clearing my head, I let out a deep breath as I enjoy the very early morning Pandora air. I love how it’s always peaceful which is my favorite time of day to be by myself and where I can enjoy being me. Although, I’m not here to just enjoy the peace and quiet…i’m here to prove myself. I silently watch as a Thanator passes through the Pandora jungle brush while I slowly follow it from the treetops above the ground. The carnivorous beast stops for a moment as I ready my bow from my back and grab three arrows before readying them on the bow’s bowstring. The beast then jumps at a direhorse, killing it and began eating some of the meat from the direhorse. I readied the three arrow shot before I let the arrows fly. I grinned as they all met their target. The first two arrows went into the beasts legs, throwing it off balance before the third arrows pierced the side of the beast’s hide, throwing it to the ground on its side as it let out a roar of pain. I smile at the sight of my self-training paying off after needing to teach myself my skill set. I put my bow away onto my back as I approached the Thanator before drawing a knife I made years ago when I was 10 years old.

(The knife)

I came face to face with the beast and gave it a sign of respect before I grabbed its head to keep it still as I stabbed the Thonator in the top of the skull. I then used my knife to cut chunks of meat from the body of the dead carnivorous beast for food for my family and I also pulled out a few of the creature’s teeth to put on some bracelets I’m making for my siblings and parents. I love my family, even if they may not give me much attention. I only now realized that my family probably doesn’t even know that I’m out on my own without supervision or someone to watch my back. I sigh at the fact I’m so used to being in the background, I’m used to my family forgetting about me, not asking about me, or worrying about me too much unless I’m actually noticed. I’m usually the one babysitting Tuk while everyone else is busy, I sigh at knowing I’m just the one to be held back and not prepared. I quickly grab hold on the necklace my grandmother gave to me in secret that once belonged to my grandfather before he passed away and let a few tears roll down my face. Whenever I wear it, I always feel the presence of someone watching over me wherever I am which I like to believe is Grandpa watching over me with a smile on his face.

I wipe my face of my tears and shake my head to clear my mind as I finish up with the beast, leaving me with three full bags of meat and a pouch full of Thanator teeth. I’m happy with my work and I then whistle for my Ikran, Ro’nea or “Ghost” as I sometimes call her due to her fully pale white color. When I was young, Dad told me about things from when he was on Earth, these white things called “ghosts” were one of my favorite things he told me about and that’s where I gave her the nickname from. Ro’nea finds me and lands next to me as I attach the bags of meat to the harness I made for her. I rub her head and look at her left eye which still bears a red patchy scar going across it. I still remember the day when we crash landed after we bonded, resulting in that very scar on her eye and leaving me with a scar going from my right ear across my cheek to the side of my mouth. I still remember that day also because I had to tame my Ikran myself because my parents were too busy to help me at the time and I didn’t bond with her until only a few weeks ago which is why Ro’nea and I crash landed in the first place. I sigh when I realize that my family just doesn’t seem to care much for me. I get onto Ro’nea and we begin our journey home.

When I got back to the family Hometree, I saw my parents, Jake Sully and Neytiri; my brothers, Lo’ak and Neteyam; my sisters, Tuk and Kiri; were all still asleep. I looked out at the horizon and saw that the sun was halfway of coming up. I got to work on cooking breakfast for everyone using the meat I gathered earlier and put together a decent looking meal to me at least. I finished the preparations on the meals for everyone when I felt a wave of exhaustion hit me from everything in the last few hours. I’d rather get some sleep over facing the family questioning me about what I was doing up early and alone when I’m supposedly “inexperienced” and “incapable”. I went back outside the Hometree and I began to climb up the trunk to where I have a small area carved out that is a perfect secluded area for me to sleep. I got comfy in my spot and I drifted off to sleep. However, I failed to realize I still had drops of blood on my face and blood spots on my arms and torso from cutting the meat off the Thanator.

— 3rd Person POV

A few minutes after Y/N fell asleep, the rest of his family stirred awake from their night of sleep. Kiri and Neteyam were the first ones to wake up to the smelly aura of food in the home. After getting up from bed and reaching the table, the two oldest children were shocked at the spread of food of meat, fruit, soup, and drinks that were prepared to perfection in front of them. The noise of a crackle made them turn to outside where a small fire pit was smoldering after being used by Y/N to cook the meat. Out of the corner of their eyes, they spotted Y/N’s bloodied knife on a table to their left next to Y/N’s bow and the pouch of teeth. Lo’ak and Tuk were the next of the Sully family to wake up to the sweet smell of food, the two now excited to eat something delicious and yummy. Once they saw the food, the two looked to the oldest children to ask if they made the food.

Lo’ak: Morning Kiri. Morning, Nete. Who prepared breakfast?

Kiri and Neteyam both look at each other.

Kiri: I don’t know, however, I saw something over there.

Kiri gestures over to where the table with the bloody knife is. Lo’ak went over and spotted it immediately before grabbing it and inspecting it. He has never saw the knife before today and was amazed at the craftsmanship of said blade.

Lo’ak; Who’s knife is this? It’s still covered in blood.

Neteyam: I’ve only seen that blade one other time. I think it’s Y/N’s knife. So it was him that made breakfast. But…what was he doing up so early and why is his knife bloody? He knows he needs someone with him as he’s inexperienced and he doesn’t even have an Ikran yet!

Tuk: Where is Y/N?

The four siblings looked around the Hometree and didn’t find him. They looked towards their parents who were just waking up from their deep sleep. Jake was rubbing his eyes as he opened them and was greeted by the smell of food. Neytiri got up slowly and stretched her back before blinking a few times to clear her eyes.

Jake: What’s that smell? Who cooked breakfast?

Neytiri: -sniffs the aroma in the air- It smells like smoked Thanator meat, Yovo fruit, Fungus Soup, and milk. (I’m not sure what they have to drink in the Avatar universe so I’m going with milk as it seems like something they’d have.) Who made it?

Neteyam: We believe Y/N prepared it. However, there is something we need to talk about. Lo’ak, show Mom and Dad what we found.

Lo’ak turned around to reveal the bloodied knife was certainly a surprise to Jake and Neytiri. They quickly got up and rushed over to Lo’ak who still had the bloody knife in hand.

Jake: What the hell happened?! Is anyone hurt?!

Neytiri quickly checked all present children with zero results of finding injuries.

Kiri: Dad! Mom! We’re all fine. But that blade…That’s Y/N’s knife.

Jake and Neytiri both freeze at this revelation.

Neytiri: It’s Y/N’s!?! Where is he?!?

Neteyam says that he doesn’t know where the middle child of the Sully family is at. Both parents look at each other worriedly and ran out of the Hometree to find their missing son. Once outside, the children followed to find their brother. The family searches around when Tuk notices a small nook in the upper parts of the Hometree above them with what looked like a Na’vi tail poking out and she shows Kiri what she saw. Kiri sees what Tuk saw and climbed up to see what it was. She reached Y/N’s small carved out nook and frowned at the sight in front of her. It was her youngest brother alone in the nook as he was curled up in a ball and shaking. The fresh blood on his body that surprised Kiri a lot.

Kiri: I found him! He’s up here!

Y/N slowly stirs tiredly before rubbing his eye and blindly the sleepiness from his eyes only to be met with his older sister looking at him worriedly. He got up in shock which resulted in him banging his head on the roof of his small nook area.

Y/N: Ow.

Kiri: Y/N… Is everything all right?

Y/N: Yeah.. why do you ask?

Kiri: Well, Dad and Mom want to have a talk with you. I think it’s pretty serious considering we found your knife covered in blood and you still have blood on your body….

Y/N: Shit… I thought I washed it all off. -sighs- Let’s go see what they have in store for me.

The two siblings climb down from Y/N’s little nook in the upper branches and he is face to face with his mother and father. Jake is royally pissed at his son for disobeying orders for a second time while Neytiri is looking at her third oldest child with worry about what happened earlier in the morning. Jake turns around to the rest of Y/N’s siblings and tells them to go eat.

— Y/N POV

My siblings turned around to head back inside our home before Dad turned back to me with anger written all over his face. I honestly couldn’t give two shits about what he thinks when I barely get the time of day from him without needing to disobey his stupid orders to get his attention.

Jake: You got anything to say for yourself, soldier?

Y/N: What is there for me to say? I went out against your orders because I’m apparently “not experienced enough” to hunt or do anything besides help Kiri and watch Tuk when I need to. Apparently, I need to prove myself to you.

Jake: Watch your tone with me, Y/N! I am your father!!Why did you disobey direct orders?!

Y/N: Since have you even cared about how I feel with that shit?!? I’m practically fucking useless because of the limitations I’ve had throughout my life!! I have had zero training at all with hunting or being resourceful, the only experience I have that is being even remotely useful is helping as being a healer with Kiri when we go to learn from our grandmother! I’ve had to train myself how to handle my own shit which still is not good and is not enough around here at all!!!

I’m practically shaking with anger from my small outburst as my tail curled up im anger. Dad is taken aback at my outburst with how I felt. He then sighed at the sign that I had inherited his hot-headed temper and stubbornness as well at the fact that he knows I’m right. He hasn’t been there for me when I needed him most.

Jake: -sighs- I know, Y/N. But your time will come, I promise. In the mean time, you’re double-grounded because of your disobedience.

I roll my eyes angrily in annoyance at my father’s words of being grounded again even after already being grounded once and turn away from my parents as some tears form in my eyes. Mom hadn’t said a single word the whole time that Dad and I were arguing. She turned to Dad and squeezed his hand to signal to let her take over now and Jake nods to her. Mom then walks over to me as I now have a few tears going down my cheeks as she kneels down to my height. She pulls me into a hug as she shushed me to calm me down and whispers calming words into my ear. I let my tears fall for a few seconds before I turn around and hug her back as I silently lets the waterworks flow down. Dad looked absolutely heartbroken at the sight of me like this. He knows he messed up badly with how he brought me up, but he also knows that I am stronger than I look and better than what I let on. Mom is speechless at how broken I am from feeling practically useless.

Neytiri: Y/N, we love you and your brothers and sisters more than anything in life itself. We never meant for you to feel like this. We’re sorry.

Y/N: I-I know, Mom. I k-know.

Neytiri: Come on. Let’s just go eat the amazing breakfast you prepared.

Y/N: Alright, I just w-want to have a word with D-dad before I go in.

Neytiri: Of course, my son.

Mom let go of me and went inside our home before I look back up to Dad after I quickly composed myself.

Y/N: Dad.

Jake: Yes, son?

Y/N: You do know that I love you regardless of whatever happens, right?

Jake: I do, Y/N. I want you to know that no matter what I still love you too. I know I don’t say it enough.

Y/N: But…..you need to think about how you treat your children. You treat Neteyam, Lo’ak, and I like we’re soldiers in a military squad. I can’t do anything like in a squad and I don’t deserve the stupid treatment you give me. The same goes for the shitty way you go with Neteyam and Lo’ak. This is a family, not a squad. And you’re our father, not our drill instructor. This will end up with consequences that you won’t want to happen if it continues. You could end up driving one of us away from the family.

Dad gives me a look of shock and a bit of fear from what I just said to him. I know how much he cares about all of us and he doesn’t want to lose any of us. I really didn’t want to have to say something like that, but things have gotten to the breaking point that I just let it slip without any thought. I just stare at my father while he sees that I’m serious about what I said and I walk past him without a second thought back into our home. I walk towards the table where the rest of my family is sitting down and talking about whatever when I feel something grab my leg making me look down. I look down and see Tuk giving me a hug around my right leg.

Tuk: Thank you for the breakfast, Y/N.

I laugh at her cuteness and rub her head.

Y/N: Of course, Tuk.

She pulls away from my leg and opens her arms which makes me laugh. I nod to what she wants me to do. and get down on one knee to give her a full hug. I continue to hug her as i pick her up and jokingly spin around with Tuk still in my in my arms as she giggles at my antics. This is one of her favorite things to do with me. I always treasure the bond I share with my youngest sibling, Tuk. She’s a ray of sunshine in my dark times while I’m her rock in her troublesome times. I put her down with both of us laughing and she runs back to the table of food. I get up from my knee and see the rest of my family smiling at me. I smile back at them and go to sit at the table with them. I grab the lone empty seat that was between Kiri and Neteyam and grabbed a plate of meat and fruit as well as a bowl of the soup. My three older siblings give me different looks written on their faces because they heard what I said to Dad, with Lo’ak looking at me with face of surprise at what I said to Dad, Kiri giving me a look saying “I’m here for you if you need someone to talk with, little brother.” and Neteyam gave me a look of understanding as he understood how I felt from Dad being harsh on us. I shrug it off as I know things will probably just stay the same and I’m at my point where I just don’t give a single fuck about it anymore. I start to eat some Yovo fruit as I quietly look around at the family talking with one another without anyone paying me any mind while we all are and talked.

I roll my eyes at the usual occurrence that I’ve become accustomed to and shake my head dismissively with my ears going flat against my head. I stop eating as I lost my appetite at the shitshow that happened last between me and Dad before I get up and leave the table without anyone noticing. I head to the hammocks that all of the family members sleep in before I climb into the one that’s mine and pull out a small journal out of my pillow where I hide said journal. I found this old journal while I was out scavenging alone one day and stumbled upon an old Sky-people base that had not been raided. Anyways, I open my journal and grab the pencil I keep with it before I start writing into my journal. I write down how well my training is going to myself and what I can improve on. I fail to notice Lo’ak look over to see me in my hammock when he was going to ask me how I learned to expertly make the food when he saw I was no longer at the table.

— 3RD PERSON POV

Neteyam went to ask Lo’ak something when he saw his younger brother looking away from the table. Neteyam then looks over to where Lo’ak is looking to see Y/N writing in a small journal before the alone Na’vi boy closed the journal and put it back into his pillow. Y/N then fluffed the pillow before rolling over and trying to go to back to sleep due to being very tired and overwhelmed from what happened earlier. The two Na’vi boys at the table just frown at the sight of their brother looking sad and miserable. Kiri had tried asking Neteyam about something when she saw her brother looking away from the table. Kiri then saw her younger brother in his hammock. She frowns at the sight and just looks down at the table sadly at the sight of her brother being broken. Jake and Neytiri silently watched the whole thing that happened with their son going to his hammock. Jake knows that he fucked up big time with Y/N while Neytiri just wondered where they went wrong with their son.

To be continued…

This is my first time posting onto Tumblr so I hope people enjoyed this small post I created with the thought I came up with for it. I plan on making more parts, but this is part one. Like I said, I hope whoever read this enjoyed the post.