#don’t call paw patrol like

[pixiesnooze]

guys please zhanyi are fine they are fine

[starlooove]

Sometimes it’s so pathetic I can’t feel bad

[explode-this]

Bluey in the genocide by Omar Sakr (posted January 2, 2024)

I am maddened by how apt it is that in trying to find this poem—a stellar example of how people gloss over the presence of politics “even” in children’s television programming—I kept running into articles with headlines like “inside News Corp’s Bluey genocide beat-up” and “Iconic Bluey cricket episode is accused of promoting ‘genocide’ by Muslim poet Omar Sakr” and “Poet Omar Sakr Alleges ‘Bluey’ episode ‘Cricket’ Genocide Themed.’ There is no accusation; there is acknowledgement. Sakr has not screeched onto the page with a list of grievances. He has rather gently described watching a cartoon with his son, a cartoon they were both enjoying until the moment where his experience of the world, the various lens through which he sees and has been seen, creates a pause of realization. It’s a realization that would fly over the heads of those who do not share those lens, who are free of the burden of carrying all of the extra meaning. Rusty’s dad could have been anywhere, away and missing these moments of learning and bonding for any reason, but a creative choice was made for deployment to be that reason—and in that revelation many viewers probably worried for the pup, taking in the notion that his father may not return. The intention with the storyline—I gather—is to provide acknowledgement and understanding to children of deployed parents, as well as describe simply to their peers those particular circumstances. This scenario invites me to ask further questions: why was the parent deployed? Where was he deployed to? On either side of this equation, how many other children are cleaved from their parents by governments and the notions of “duty” and “just following orders”? How many lives are destroyed by imperialism and so-called “peacekeeping”? Asking these questions takes nothing away from feeling sympathy for Rusty’s situation; it broadens the scope. What Sakr’s poem does is quietly turn your face to see the rest of it.

Whether you acknowledge it or not, whether it affects you or not, whether you’re just watching things for escapism or you’ve turned your brain off or you’re not paying attention, every creative endeavor is informed by some aspect of politics both personal and broad. Nobody is forcing you to think about it, to analyze, to identify every theme and potential piece of commentary. But those things are still there, and they tug at the strings of our experience. Being able to overlook or ignore those things can be part of our experience, and merely having them made visible to you is not an accusation or a condemnation. Seeing them may provoke feelings and questions. If those feelings are mostly defensive, there is an option other than fighting someone else’s reality: consider how those feelings and questions can help you see things to which you are not ordinarily subjected and, in doing so, learn something.

everything has political content. sorry. theres some guys who get really really angy when you say this but its true

[edens-pen]

i love hozier.

[moongreenlight]

“Realistic Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley headcanons” and then it’s just the fun police.

Mdni. Nsfw below cut.

- It makes me want to scoop my fucking brain out with a spoon when people say that Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley is some shy, anxious soft boy. I really do not believe he’d need to be coddled after a nightmare or babied when he’s feeling angsty. He is fine, y’all. Please don’t call paw patrol.

He is a soldier. He’s a war criminal. He is traumatized to the point of numbness. He is fucked up and weird and insane and honestly I think that we should all let everybody have their thing.

I cannot fix him. I do not want to fix him. I can only make him worse.

- Sorry but I just cannot write him having any kind of romantic feelings toward Soap. I like writing their dynamic more brotherly.

Furthest they’ve gone is ‘locker room gay.’

Like Johnny sends him dick pics on occasion because he thinks it’s funny and it pisses Ghost off.

That being said, I do read the occasional Ghoap fic. I’m not a perfect person. Sometimes it’s just yummy delicious.

- Feel like he’s the kind of freak to intentionally go to the gym without headphones. Something about discipline. Opting to just stare at the wall in front of him while he’s doing cardio or counting repetitions of exercises.

But on the rare occasion that he does indulge himself, he has a playlist of like 5-6 songs he likes and when it ends he just goes back to silence. Divorced dad rock. Chorded headphones only.

- Doesn’t have the debilitating commitment issues as people paint him out to have. Just commitment-phobic. Obviously stems from his past. He’s got that sexy deep rooted fear of abandonment or something horrible happening to people he actually lets close to him. But he’s not completely turned off by the idea of romantic attachments or close friends, just a little hesitant to open himself up to that kind of opportunity.

Probably very cagey about romantic partners. Doesn’t want the guys to know about you. Doesn’t keep pictures of you around his bunk or anything like that. He’s worried it’ll somehow compromise your safety. Worried about you getting swept up in his work.

- Women’s rights? Or Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley? I really do think he’d love to have a partner who lets him provide *everything* for them. He just wants to serve and protect. Wants his bird to be in a gilded cage all nice and safe and reliant on him for survival.

Doesn’t even really like the idea of you going to the grocery store by yourself. Would prefer if you just stayed put and tended his home and cooked him meals and let him dote on you and provide everything you could ever need.

- Has a really strange understanding of technology. He’s fine with the newer military stuff. That’s his element. He can do electrical wiring, set up a TV, install security cameras. That’s all whatever. But a cell phone? He doesn’t give a shit enough to keep up with the new updates and all the new things you have to learn when you get a smartphone. Wishes he would have kept a flip phone.

Texts like this: [OK. See youtonight.]

MAYBE has a private Facebook with no profile picture where the only things on his wall are Price wishing him a happy birthday every year.

His camera roll is like; 97 accidental screenshots of his Lock Screen, a few pictures of him and the task force boys, the inside of his pocket (another accident), a sunrise, a few cool things he found on missions, 34 pictures of Soap and Gaz when they took his phone.

- Insufferable in the early stages of trying to date him. Little to no communication other than basically demanding you meet him somewhere. Texting or talking on the phone? Like pulling fucking teeth. You think he’d rather be dead.

It was a headache getting him to go out in the first place. Maybe you worked at a bar where the guys would come to have a drink after a long day. He’s a little stand-offish but he’s handsome and he knows how to banter well enough for you to be persuaded by a coworker to slip him your number after you complained one too many times about a shit hookup or yet another terrible first date. It takes him nearly two weeks to phone you.

“Didn’t think you’d call.”

“Didn’t think I would either.”

He takes you out once, you think he seems sort-of interested, then he doesn’t phone or text you back for three days. You get over it. A few more dates in. You can tell he’s a bit more relaxed. A bit more open. You’re less worried that you’re a terrible conversationalist. Then he goes on a month long deployment without saying anything in advance. Radio fucking silent yet again. You want to tear your hair out. When he finally gets back, he’ll text you something like [Atthat pub you like. Drinks ?] completely out of the blue. You think you may actually go insane.

- Once he’s gotten used to you, it’s like the sole purpose of his life is to be your protector even if you’ve only recently convinced yourself he may want something casual. You’re small and grab-able. He knows how nasty people can be and what think when they see you. He needs to know that you’re taken care of, kept safe from such a scary world.

So he’ll just linger around you. All the time. Standing behind you when you’re at the till at the store, staring down the cashier who was only trying to be friendly when they asked if you had any fun plans for the rest of the day. Big arms folded over his chest. Looming so largely he threatens to eclipse you without taking a single step forward. Eyes burning a hole into the poor person who hastily finishes the transaction without another word.

Walking silently next to you in the evenings after you’re both off work; close enough to brush shoulders, but that’s about it. Listening to you chirp on about your day. Occasionally offering a small grunt of acknowledgement or a few words of interjection. Always walks on the side of the path that he thinks could pose you the most immediate danger. Shielding you from what may lurk in a darkened alley or a hedge or a small thicket of trees.

Scary dog privilege, but like… for when you go to fill your car up with gas in broad daylight in a good part of town and he insists on standing out there with you. ‘Just in case’ If he even lets you out of the car in the first place.

- AND OFF THAT POINT. I think once he’s decided that he’s actually fond of you, it goes from zero to a hundred so fast it makes your head spin.

Like the last time you spoke, it was still unclear on if you were keeping things casual or not and now you’re at dinner and the waiter just asked him if the two of you wanted dessert and Simon just grunts “dunno. Ask the missus.” ??? He sucks so bad I NEED him.

- As much as I love an overly possessive and jealous Simon, I saw this tweet that said “My girlfriend can wear what she wants because she’s a hoe and I knew that before we started dating” and it changed my life.

He’s secure enough not to need to cause a scene if someone makes a pass on you in public. He understands that you’re attractive and that other people are bound to find you attractive too. (Not that he doesn’t still want to pull their fingernails out one by one, threatening them and everything they love for daring to exist near you. He’s just got better control over himself than that. King.)

He knows he’s better than any of your other options. Nobody else could keep you as safe as he could. They don’t know the world like he does. They don’t know how breakable you are. How sweet and naive you can be.

Not to say he isn’t overly jealous and possessive, he just won’t pitch a fit in public.

LIKE dragging him to the bar with your friends and he sits at the table with all of your drinks. Him watching you dancing out of the corner of his eye, seeing some prat come up and grab your ass in passing. Or a group of guys dancing with your friends getting a little *too* close to you for his liking. He doesn’t do anything while the two of you are out- not wanting to ruin your fun. But that night after you’ve gotten back to his flat (He insisted. Closer to the bar. Uber was cheaper.) and he’s tearing your miniskirt off like it’s personally offended him. He’ll be a little rougher. A little more liberal with the marks his mouth leaves on your collarbones and inner thighs. His strong hands will grab at the fat of your hips a little harder than he should- leaving bruises where his fingers dug in. He’ll lean over you while you’re split open with his length, snarling down at you. “Had everyone’s attention tonight, didn’t you, pet?“ “You like havin’ eyes on you?” “Greedy fuckin’ slag.” “Can’t appreciate what you have.” “Need a reminder of who you’ve got to impress.” Maybe he’ll take you in front of a mirror, massive hand fixed on your jaw. Jerking your face up so you have to look at yourself being ruined by him. How pretty and slutty you look when your makeup is ruined by the tears he’s fucking out of you.

- He calls you ‘bird’ or ‘pet’ more often than anything else. A little on the nose for how he treats you. Like you’re some small, frail thing that can’t go a day without him. Stripped of your natural survival instincts and instead leaning on him for support and comfort and food and shelter. Just how he likes it.

GOD he’s a fucking freak. Gross and mean and fucked in the head. Makes my stomach hurt. I hate him. I wish I was schizophrenic so I could vividly hallucinate him.

[emmyrosee]

Kuroo Tetsuro was put on this earth to have children.

Before your little twins were even a thought, he’d look longingly at young couples with kids, watching with the most dazed expression. He was always the first to smile at infants, wave at toddlers, and if the accompanying parents seemed to welcome his affections, he’d ask the young children questions.

So, the gods blessed him with twins. And 9 times out of 10, he’s the most thorough father you’ve ever known, and he’s so quick to know which child needs what, when, and why.

Right now, however, is the 1 out of 10. And it’s funny.

“There’s a tiny human at the end of our bed,” he whispers against your head, the raspiness of his voice rumbling against your temple.

“I sincerely hope you mean one of our children.”

Your joke makes Tetsuro laugh, slowly sitting up to peek at the cutest intruder in your doorway.

“Good morning, baby,” he mumbles, thick fingers pressing into his eyes to rub the sleep from them. You smile at your daughter at the foot of your bed, sleepily gazing at your little girl. “How’d you sleep?”

“Good, dadda,” she mumbles around her pacifier.

“Yeah? Where’s your sister?”

“Sleepin’.”

“She’s still sleeping?” He says, yawning softly, an arm wrapping around you to pull you closer. “How come you’re not still sleeping?”

“Bluey!” She squeals excitedly, pointing at the tv in your room.

This, has your husband’s eyes furrowing. His body shifts slightly, and his eyes dart to span over her tiny frame.

“You want to watch Bluey?” He asks, and you cock your brow up at him in confusion for his confusion.

“Uh-huh!” She crawls onto the foot of your bed with a finger extended to the big screen, “Bluey, please?”

“What’s wrong?” You whisper, grabbing the remote and clicking the tv so your tiny child is occupied.

Tetsuro leans over, pulling you close, enough to where his warm breath spans over your face.

“I don’t know which one that is,” he whispers, and you let out a soft snort.

“You really don’t know?”

“I know Hanako likes Bluey, but Hanae’s favorite pair of pj’s is the one that’s being worn right now.”

Your eyes flick back down to the figure at the bottom of your bed, who indeed, is wearing Hanae’s favorite green pajamas (Hanako’s are yellow), but is watching Bluey like no one’s business (Hanae immensely prefers paw patrol).

And in his defense… they are twins.

Looking the same is kind of what they do.

“What about her eyes?” You whisper back. Hanae has eyes like her fathers, while Hanako’s are more akin to yours.

“Couldn’t get a good look, it’s too early!”

“Pacifier color?”

“Baby they switch those regularly, you know better than to ask.”

Chewing on your lip, your eyes shift over your child’s excited eyes watching the tv. It’s true, if they weren’t identical enough, now they have to go and switch the few things that make them different.

“Who are you?” Tetsuro asks to no one, though it does make you giggle.

Then, you smile and slowly sit up, patting your husband’s chest lovingly. “Hey stinky,” you call, and you watch her messy black hair swish as she turns to face you. “Who do you like to hang out with more, uncle ken or uncle ko?”

The tiny human beams around the pacifier in her mouth, “uncle ko! ‘Cause he plays pirates with me in ‘da pool!”

You and tetsuro look at each other and grin.

Hanae.

Hanako was absolutely whipped for her uncle kenma.

“We should see him soon, shouldn’t we?” You ask, watching as Hanae bounces excitedly.

Tetsuro rolls his eyes as he sits up, “not before we see uncle Kenma, he’s already pouty that you like uncle Koutaro more, and I gotta hear about it.”

“Of course she likes him more,” you tease, slipping out of bed to start the day. “Hanae is practically attached to Koutarou’s leg; she told us she was going to marry him one day, remember?

“Gonna marry Uncle Kou one day!” Hanae chirps. “N’ Hanako’s gonna marry Uncle Kenma, ‘nd we’re all gonna marry Uncle Kei, and-“

“Do not do this to me so early,” Tetsuro groans, patting the bed for the little girl to snuggle with him. She does, with a happy little noise and a quick scurry close to him, and you can only watch with a smile as they watch Bluey together in the rays of the sun before shuffling off to make breakfast.

[ham1lton]

my favourite interviewer.

pairings: lando norris x fellow driver’s sister/reader

warnings: jokes about adoption. mentions of bigotry but in reference to o/s’s experiences.

summary: the one where you interview your sister and your boyfriend. also part of the nepo!sister universe.

author’s note: i love nepo!sis/y/n. expect to see her more. also these interviews are quite short so imagine they’re longer and these are snippets. y/n is a better interviewer than i made her out to be 😔💔

————————————————————————

liked by vogue, yourusername and 1,827,668 others.

oldersister: check out my photoshoot for vogue! and my following interview with my younger sister yourusername. it was definitely… interesting. link in bio <3.

view all comments

user1: my favourite sisters made another appearance again!!

yourusername: DON’T! work with o/s! such a DIVA! rude as hell…..

-> oldersister: is this because i said pink wasn’t your colour?

-> yourusername: ALL COLOURS ARE MY COLOUR !! 😡

user2: y/n is so funny throughout this entire interview. a natural comedian.

user5: o/s saying that people don’t take her seriously as a driver is crazy!! she’s a two time champion!! what more does she need to do?

-> user6: it’s nothing that she needs to do. there really isn’t anything she can do to change their minds. it’s bigotry.

user3: o/s is so pretty. full time f1 driver and part-time model.

-> user4: one thing about her, lewis and zhou is that they’re all gonna serve looks and face. holy trinity.

————————————————————————

liked by yourusername, gq and 1,223,378 others.

landonorris: thank u gq for letting me cover ur magazine and thank u to my gorgeous interviewer for taking the time out of her day to interview me. btw… are you single 😍

view all comments

user5: this was so cute!! i love their dynamic.

yourusername: no i’m not single. i have a bf. be professional please.

-> landonorris: ain’t nobody care about him queen. i bet you i could beat his ass 😍

-> user1: i wish i had this confidence.

-> landonorris: leave me alone 😭😭🖕🏼

-> user2: poor lando. getting dragged by his fans, his girlfriend, his girlfriend’s fans and his girlfriend’s sister’s fans😭😭 rip bro 💔😔

-> yourusername: he’s fine y’all. please don’t call paw patrol.

user3: lando saying y/n was his favourite person regardless of what she does 🥺🥺

-> user4: when he cussed out y/n for calling herself boring 😭 he said that’s my gf don’t be disrespectful.

user7: y/n finessing a free lunch and dinner out of her boyfriend and her sister was my favourite part. yass queen 😍 take from the rich.

*liked by yourusername*

————————————————————————

MY NIGHT WITH O/S L/N.

by y/n l/n.

It’s the end of O/S’s Vogue’s shoot. She’s dressed in a black form-fitting silk suit with a pair of pale pink heels. I always knew that my sister was famous but seeing her in the middle of such magnitude truly reinforces that she is not just my older sister anymore. She’s bigger than that. We decide to duck behind the busy shoot into a side room to start our interview.

THURSDAY, PARIS, 11:34PM.

Y/N: Did you expect that I’d be the one interviewing you?

O/S L/N: Honestly? No! I’m happy though to see a familiar face. Pleasant surprise.

Y/N: I’m not gonna hold back on the questions though just because you’re my sister. I need you to know that.

O/S: Wouldn’t expect you to.

Y/N: Just for the record, she’s wearing my lipstick. I told her she’d look cute in it and she refused to listen to me.

O/S: I didn’t expect it to look so cute on me. I don’t wear super bright lipsticks, it’s a orangey-red shade for the people who can’t see it. I got the makeup team to source it for me and tried it on and perhaps… you were right. It’s grown on me.

Y/N: I’m always right.

O/S: Always is an understatement but … you have your moments.

Y/N: So, what would you say it’s like being the only female F1 driver?

O/S: A very unique position to be in. I’m lucky to have such a good support system in place. Y’know? Mom, Dad, my team and you.

Y/N: It’s a lot of pressure isn’t it?

O/S: Yes. As any high profile job is.

Y/N: How do you find the pressure when it comes to being a role model for younger girls?

O/S: It’s a responsibility I take very seriously. I think it’s so important to encourage young children, especially girls, to follow their dreams and help to provide avenues to make them accessible. I would love to see younger generations of drivers that come from a diverse array of backgrounds be in Formula One.

Y/N: Remember when you were younger and you’d go go-karting?

O/S: Yes.

Y/N: Dad would always make me come and watch you. It was so boring but he’d always get us ice cream afterwards if you’d won. That’s why I always rooted for you.

O/S: Says it all really.

Y/N: I was always a tennis fan. Maybe a little basketball or football. Dad used to joke that maybe you were the adopted one because no one else in the family knew about motorsports before you.

O/S: He still does! I found out about F1 at my school library at the age of like nine and begged Dad to take me. I’m very lucky that not only did we have the funds at the time but parents that supported us. He used to drive me everywhere. He still does drive me to the Grand Prix sometimes.

Y/N: Funny how little traditions stick with us, huh? Remember when you started making real money and would take us out for dinner after every win?

O/S: I was so excited that I had the money to treat you all.

Y/N: Definitely. What was the biggest challenge you’ve faced so far in your career?

O/S: It’ll sound trivial but… probably being taken seriously.

Y/N: What do you mean by that?

O/S: As a lot of women in male-dominated spaces might face, it’s hard to overcome the biases against my abilities. People said for a long time that I was only here because of diversity quotas.

Y/N: Even when you won?

O/S: Especially when I won. I like to prove people wrong. I’ve spent my whole career doing just that. I just wish it wasn’t so constant and tiring. I’m just doing my job but because of my womanhood and my blackness, it is immediately viewed as political. Overcoming the preconceptions has become a huge part of my journey.

Y/N: That’s annoying as fuck. I’ve seen it first hand too. You’re an incredible driver. I know I joke around with you and take the piss out of you but genuinely you do inspire me. I might not be racing cars anytime soon but I’ll always be your biggest fan.

O/S: Thanks Y/N. That means so much to me.

Y/N: Now onto the juicier stories. Who are you dating? For the readers who mightn’t know your personal life, I’ll spell it oit for them.

O/S: Oh No…

Y/N: You started off by dating your childhood sweetheart, Clark Jones, and then dated actor Paul Elordi.

O/S: I did. I am single now, as you’re aware.

Y/N: And she won’t let me set her up with anyone!

O/S: Just because you’re happy in monogamous bliss doesn’t mean the rest of us wanna be.

Y/N: Thanks for letting me interview you today O/S, it was definitely the best part of my day.

O/S: You were very good. I enjoyed the questions. Five stars.

Y/N: Wanna go out to eat? Your treat.

O/S: Of course, let me change into something more comfortable. These heels are gorgeous but they are killing me.

END OF INTERVIEW.

————————————————————————

MY MORNING WITH LANDO NORRIS.

by y/n l/n.

TUESDAY, LONDON, 10:34AM.

I was told to pretend to be professional and that I didn’t spend the night with my boyfriend so I left the room at around 7am just so that I could knock on the door again later in my interviewer mode. It’s the night after his photoshoot for an energy drink. Lando opens the door in a plain black tee, a hoodie wrapped around his waist and tracksuit bottoms. He isn’t wearing shoes. He lets me in and I sit on the sofa. We start the interview.

Y/N: Good Morning. Should we start the interview?

LANDO NORRIS: I’m ready whenever you are.

Y/N: I told O/S this but just because we know each other, don’t expect me to hold back on the questions. Don’t expect any special treatment just because I am your girlfriend.

LANDO: Wouldn’t dream of it.

Y/N: Alright, let’s get started. How did you feel about yesterday’s photoshoot?

LANDO: Tried something new and I think it turned out well. Got some cool shots. The energy was great and the team was incredible. It was a fun shoot. Couldn’t complain.

Y/N: Do you think you’re a better racer or model?

LANDO: I’d like to say model but I’d have to say racer.

Y/N: I think you could be a model.

LANDO: Even though you’re biased. I’ll accept that.

Y/N: Not biased at all actually. I’m here as Interviewer Y/N, not as your girlfriend Y/N.

LANDO: Wait. Can I flirt with Interviewer Y/N?

Y/N: No.

LANDO: Boooo!

Y/N: Let’s switch gears, what do you like to do when you’re unwinding?

LANDO: Well, Usually I’d say spending time with you but you’re not my girlfriend soo… I’m going to say streaming with my friends and playing video games. Also watching my girlfriend’s favourite reality shows.

Y/N: You’re a Teen Mom UK fan? And a Real Housewives fan? I thought you didn’t to like them.

LANDO: It’s part of the boyfriend playbook. Pretend you’re bored with those sorts of shows but secretly, you’re incredibly into it. I have to keep up with your interests somehow and I picked the most interesting ones.

Y/N: I don’t blame you. Alright, one more question before I go back to being boring girlfriend Y/N and I have to give back this super cool voice recorder.

LANDO: Girlfriend Y/N isn’t boring to me. She’s actually my favourite person. Don’t talk shit about my girl.

Y/N: Fine. She’s not boring. She’s just less of a technophile.

LANDO: I’ll accept that.

Y/N: My last question is what’s your favourite thing about driving for Formula One?

LANDO: Besides the thrill of racing? And the part where I’m living my childhood dream? Definitely the fans. Their support and energy help fuel me on the track. Plus, I get to travel the world while doing what I love. I think that’s the ideal world for a lot of people. I’m very lucky.

Y/N: I couldn’t agree more. Thank you for letting me ask you those questions. Now, time for me to go back to the girlfriend version of me.

LANDO: Don’t sell yourself short. You’re always my favourite person regardless of what version you are.

Y/N: Flattery will get you everywhere, won’t it?

LANDO: Hey! It’s not flattery if it’s the truth.

Y/N: Guess you’re not just a pretty face huh. Don’t worry, I’ll keep our reality television show marathons a secret between me, you and all the millions of GQ magazine readers.

LANDO: You’re an angel. Lunch?

Y/N: Only if you’re paying.

LANDO: Always.

END OF INTERVIEW.

————————————————————————

[002yb]

I just had a funny thought that I thought might get you to giggle a little bit

Jason isn’t expecting Dick to be in the apartment, he’s supposed to be off on a mission, due to get back in only a few days.

And so what if Jason missed him? That doesn’t have anything to do with this goddamn it! 😤

But he’s lonely, and he’s missing Dick’s hugs (not that he’d ever admit it) and the little German Shepherd was so sad and cold out in that Gotham alleyway 😞

Anyway, something something Dick comes home early and is hiding in some dark corner of the apartment to surprise Jason after patrol, only he climbs ever so slowly in through the window with his helmet cradled in his hands.

Blah blah, Dick scares the hell out of Jason, only for a little fuzzy head to pop up out of the helmet, and when Jason looks down at the little thing he just goes all sweet and melty and Dick just can’t say no to him like that, but he still had to put up a little bit of resistance, so…

Dick gives Jason a look, like a “what do you have”

And Jason is immediately on the defensive, all “Don’t you give me that shit Dickie, this is my son!”

“Your son?”

“My son! You get the Demon, and I get the fluffball. Fair’s fair!” Because dammit, this pup may be a rash decision on his part but he would die for him already!

Cue dick swooning over Mama Jason

Awwww, thank you so much for writing me something to make me giggle~ that made my day! ( ∩´͈ ᐜ `͈∩)💗

All of this, but it's prompted by Jason being an empty nester. He might say that Damian was Dick's kid, but the truth is they were both Damian's guardians. Even if Jason's memories of it are fuzzy, Damian is his baby.

So with Damian grown and frequently out with the Teen Titans and not home with them, Jason is restless from the quiet, the loneliness, the lack of purpose.

It's worse when Dick ups and leaves at the same time.

Necessary as his departure was, fuck him. ˙◠˙

So Jason busies himself with casework, housework, the brotherly chore of tormenting Tim and the others. But at the end of the day he's still home in an apartment that's too cold and too still.

It's depressing. He hates it.

Basically, Jason is in a perfect state of mind for what happens next. Taking on the responsibility of caring for an animal when you're in a state of distress is a perfectly sound decision.

The dog? A rescue. From the Alley's underground dog fighting ring.

That Jason doesn't have great memories of dogs doesn't matter (a childhood spent fighting strays for scraps, being bit by one too many who were just as wounded as him, etc). This one looks at him like it needs saving. Because it was hurt. Because it was left for dead—the only dog left behind. Kept in a too small, dirty cage. Muzzled.

Jason saves the dog. Maybe they adventure together and wreak havoc once they track the dog fighting ring down. The trust and loyalty starts from there.

Basically, the dog comes to be very protective of Jason.

So when Dick comes back from his mission early to surprise Jason, the dog doesn't take kindly to a stranger encroaching on his person's home/territory.

Which is how Jason finds them after patrol. With Dick flat on his back, a dog paw pinning him at the chest and sharp teeth bared in his face.

The dog's ears perk when they hear Jason climbing in through the window. And for a moment there's stillness because uh-oh. They all look between each other, waiting for anyone to make a move but obviously it's Jason who needs to do something to deescalate the situation, so...

'I rescued a dog.' Because apparently soothing Dick is more important than comforting or calling off the dog. True in rare instances, but not this one. Despite being one wrong move away from being mauled, Dick looks relatively chill.

So Jason tells the dog that it's okay and the dog is placated, easy as that. Aggression shifting into curiosity as he sniffs at Dick, seems to recognize his scent as being one that's on just about everything in the apartment.

Something something, Jason sitting beside them and running his hand through Dick's hair and the dog recognizing it as a pet. Associating Dick as another one of Jason's bloodhounds. //u///

So the dog goes from having an enemy to a fellow associate, so he settles and lowers himself to lay on Dick's torso. Soft and sweet as he receives his own pats from Jason. As he listens to the two of them talk.

And then...another associate? Because once Jason eases the dog off of Dick, Dick sits up and there in the breast pocket of his coat is a kitten.

Which he purposefully rescued and brought home because Jason has been having such a bad time with the empty nesting. ;U;

The kitten being so small in Dick's hand and just as small when they get passed off to Jason and held up against Jason's chest. And the dog snuffles at it. And it's sweet.

Jason being so endeared by the thought. Because not only did Dick make it a point to come home early, he was thinking of Jason throughout the mission and that's really nice. ;///////;

Note: the cat was also a rescue. From a lab. Powers TBD lol.

And yes, Dickjay talking about Jason's empty nesting struggles. Jason being embarrassed over it because Damian and he weren't that close.

Which Dick scoffs about because Jason is oblivious. Maybe Damian would come to Dick for advice and talks with him more easily, but whenever Damian needed help or comfort? That was largely Jason. Because Damian trusted Jason just as much as Dick.

But also? Jason having fallen into the Al Ghul nursemaid mindset once Damian was back in the fold. Cooking specially for Damian. Nagging him to be responsible. Tending to him after patrols.

Not that Dick didn't also, but lolol Jason being this intimidating figure that needs to mother for his own peace of mind, get out of his way big bird.

Wwwwww, Dick missing Damian a lot, too. And the general dynamic they had around the house. Especially because it made Jason so happy. ;////////; Like Jason thrives when caring for Damian.

So yes, just two not-quiet-parents talking through missing their not-quiet-kid. Laughing at 'remember when's and snickering about 'Do you think he remembers how to...'

Note: Damian does not remember how to. He calls Dickjay on occasion to eat crow and he hates it, but Dickjay are so happy. //U///

Something something, Dick trying to capitalize help by extending another invitation out to join the Titans. Like, this man wants Jason on his team come onnnnnn

And idk them falling into some kinky roleplay that would give any HR rep a heart attack ahhhhahahaha.

Any thoughts of hanky panky being interrupted by their new dog and kitten though, which is so familiar because Damian used to interrupt them so much, so it's nostalgic and stupid and <3

Extras:

The cat's favorite place to exist is on Jason's chest. They knead Jason's pecs like biscuits and ahhhhahaha, Dick has so many videos on his phone. It never fails that Dick will knead them, too, only Jason shoots him the dirtiest of looks.

The cat and dog being best friends. Where the cat will stand on the dog's back to be transported around the apartment. And they'll sleep curled around each other. <3

Damian visiting home a lot more often and being a little petulant because how is it that when Damian wanted pets, they said no, but the moment he leaves they get two??

Damian asserting dominance as the most loved person the moment he comes home and interacts with the dog and cat. <3

Extra commentary:

One of my many ultimate weaknesses is dickjay missing each other while they're away on jobs that keep them away from home for prolonged periods. It's so cute and sweet wwwwwww!! ;////////; There's something especially cute about when it's Jason, too. Because he gets so prickly about it LOL.

Also, another ultimate weakness ahahaha, dickjay jump scaring each other omgggg!! The cutest. ;A; In this scenario where Jason startles and is all caught out for doing something impulsive too, pfffffft. Sweet boy.

Thank you again for sharing, @batmansball5~ this was so nice of you. ♡♡♡♡

[bearrrrrrr7]

perfect

Haven't posted anything in like, 8 years? Got inspired today. goodbye. (don't even remember how this shirt works lmaooo)

“yo , Syd!” Carmy calls from his office. He has a hangnail he’s been chewing on. Mostly nerves, he thinks. Also because it fucking hurts. If he starts bleeding his wife is gonna kill him. 

“‘Sup, Carm?” She pushes her way through the door and peaks her head in, “Yeah?” 

“Uh, next week, on like-” he checks his phone for the date again, “wednesday, yeah Wednesday, I’m gonna be out. Gonna need you to take over until like-Monday, I think? You can call me, just won’t be in.” 

Syd scrunches her eyebrow “uh, no-yeah that’s fine, for sure. Just like - why? Are you okay? You don’t normally, like, spring this shit on me.” She fully enters his office at this point. Arms are crossed, not in an annoyed way, more so because the giant fan in his office is directly pointing at her. 

“No yeah, uh, fine.” He coughs into his shoulder. He shouldn’t feel awkward about this, he’s a fully grown man with two baby girls and a beautiful wife. “Just a procedure, medical, uh, procedure I gotta get done on Wednesday. They told me not to be on my feet too much for the next couple days.” He’s not making eye contact with Syd, fully focused on color coordinating the highlighters in his desk. 

“Procedure? Dude, what? Are you fucking okay?” Syd asks, walking a little closer to him. She has half the nerve to put the back of her hand to his forehead. 

“Yes, Syd. Jesus. I’m fuckin’ fine okay? I mean it, just - like, could you make sure this shit doesn’t burn down while I’m gone?” He runs his hand through his curls. He needs a cigarette. He tries to picture your disappointed face so he doesn’t reach for his emergency pack. 

“Yo, Syd!” Syd and Carmy both whip their heads to the door, it’s Richie. With a shit eating grin on his face. 

“What, Richie?” Syd scoffs. “Were you invited here or did you just decide to insert yourself?” 

“Insert myself. Anyways, just so you don’t pop a blood vessel, Carm’s getting surgery to he can fuck his wife without protection. Don’t worry, sweetheart, he’s gonna be juuuuuust fine” he says, winking, stupid fucking grin still on his face. 

“Jesus, Richie” Carm and Syd both say at the same time. Carmy has his head in his hands. “Don’t listen to ‘im.” Carmy finally says. “I mean - yes. I am getting, you know, uhm, that. Vasectomy. But like - that wasn’t the main reaso-” 

“Hey Carmy?” Syd interrupts him. 

“Mm?” 

“Good luck on your procedure on Wednesday and I’ll see you Monday, okay?” 

“Thank you, Chef” Carmy breathes out a laugh. Syd laughs too. “Fuckin’ Richie” he says. 

“Fuckin’ Richie” Syd agrees. 

-

Carmy shows up to the house 3 hours later. Apparently everyone in the bear had heard Richie’s loud fucking announcement about his surgery. His hangnail did start bleeding but he found a paw patrol bandaid in the backseat of his car. 

He hears laughter once he reaches the back door, he smiles to himself. 

“Where are my cubs?” He yells as soon as he gets through the door. He hears screaming and giggling and a jumble of “Me! I here, daddy!” and before he can get a good glimpse of them he has tiny, chunky arms wrapped around his neck. 

“Where’s mama bear’s love? She chopped liver, or what?” You come into the doorway. Your hair’s a bit disheveled. You have tiny, blue and white plaid shorts on with a shirt that has so many stains on it you might as well consider it tie-dye. You have marinara sauce on your right cheek. You’re so fuckin’ pretty, he thinks. 

“Hi, sweetheart” he says. He gets up from his crouched position, two tiny toddlers hanging around his neck. He kisses you, takes his thumb and wipes that tiny bit of marinara sauce off your cheek. You look at his bandaid and give him a look. “Couldn’t help it” he says. 

-

After dinner, after the girls’ bath, after three different stories, after a small glass of wine each and a rewatch of something neither of you know the name of, you rest your head on his shoulders. 

“How are you feeling about it?” You ask. 

“What?” he asks. His eyes started to close a bit, he’s not fully sure he heard your question. 

“About the snip” you say, giggling a bit. 

He snorts, “you 10-years-old?” 

“I mean it, Carm! Be honest!” You say, you lightly slap his arm, settling right back into him after. 

“Jesus, woman.” He laughs “Uhm, I mean, good? Like this, like right here - uh, you and me, and my two cubs, my Ellie and my Charlie, my beautiful wife, this is it, you know? I just feel like our life right now is perfect. And you have done everything - so much for me. For the girls. So I’m good, I’m happy to do this. I wanna keep this, just this. This is perfect.” 

[simonisferal]

not you again “scaramouche x male reader”

episode four — yes grandma, i'll rub your bare feet. just don't call grandpa over to tell his war stories again... 📖

warnings: vulgar language, toxic family relations (scara/ei)

notes: i was too lazy to think of a real plot 🫶

“We’re going to Inazuma to visit some of your aunts. When you go home, go up to your room and pack, Kunikuzushi.”

Ei stood silently, her back turned to her son as she watched the courtyard down below the principal’s office window. She was ‘patrolling’ again, some idiotic habit she developed from surveilling her past soliders. Scaramouche was sulked in a chair with his arms crossed and face and knuckles bandaged.

“Can’t I go to Sumeru? You always send me there when I do something that doesn’t fit your dumb expectations.”

Sumeru was the only place he could actually stand. The warm weather made it perfectly for the male to wear his shorts and not Liyue’s…unnecessarily disgusting uniforms.

Ei didn’t bother turning around when she responded. “Kusanali told me of your… endeavors with Inazuma. I can’t possibly send you back to Sumeru if you’re still struggling with your culture. How will you follow in your mother’s steps?”

“Step-mother’s. Just because she gets your pussy wet doesn’t mean I have to like her.”

When those words left his mouth, Scaramouche immediately pressed his lips together. He sulked lower in his chair as he waited for his mother to respond. She didn’t for a while, the silence almost deafening.

She spoke, her voice cold and stern like a dagger made of ice. “You will be going whether you want to or not. You will not disappoint me again.”

( Ningguang has sat quiet many times before. It’s not like she feared Raiden, oh no, but she has power to make the very institution that she has worked her ass off to build the most pathetic school you can send your child to.

She has a kid of her own, adopted, but very loved by her and her wife. She can’t imagine what Scaramouche is feeling right now. )

“As much as I love the punishments for someone’s actions,” Ningguang started. “This is a young man’s education we are discussing. I would suggest taking time out of your day to home school him so Scaramouche can still get his high school diploma.”

It was quiet after she spoke. Scaramouche didn’t have a loving mother, or someone he could talk to in Inazuma and homeschooling him would give him something both what he and his mother wants, 1) his high school diploma, and 2) some control over his moving situation.

Ei sighed, turning around to meet Ningguang and Scaramouche. ”…Fine.” She pauses as she looks at the time on her watch. “I suppose I should care somewhat about his future.”

“Aww Y/N! I’m gonna miss you!” Ajax hugged you really tightly, his muscles from wrestling choking you. You tap his arm repeatedly, “Too tight..!” He doesn’t let you go until Yanfei pulls him off of you, pulling his ear like a stern mother.

You catch your breath, silently thanking Yanfei for her help. “I’ll come back after the summer. Don’t miss me too much.”

Hu-Tao sulks siltently and Yanfei scolds her, “‘Tao! Aren’t you gonna say goodbye?” Hu-Tao eyes her before continuing to text on her phone.

“It’s not like we can’t call him. Y/N’ll still have his phone.” She snorts like it was an obvious fact. It was still rude but you couldn’t blame her. Hu-Tao always had a weird way of saying goodbye to people.

Xingqui speaks up, “Didn’t you hear? Y/N’s dad placed him on a phone-ban.”

Hu-Tao immediately drops her phone and runs up to hug you almost as tightly Tartaglia did. “No! This can’t be! Please tell me the boy with blue hair and pronouns is lying!” She whined, pawing at your shirt.

“He’s not. I’ma have to… email you guys.”

Childe sobs and both him and Hu-Tao get on their knees, heart broken. “E-email?! Who uses that anymore?!” Yanfei coughs and Xingqui diverts his eyes.

Before any other gay could speak, the large airport had rung its announcement. A loud speaker phone spoke, “Flight 827, Liyue to Mondstadt, please begin boarding. Flight 827, Liyue to Mondstadt, please begin boarding…”

“It’s time.” Yanfei frowns. She gives you one last hug before patting your back. “Good luck with your college applications.”

Hu-Tao looks up from her crying, “C-college?” You snort at her crying face, trying to maintain a serious composure. “M-mhmh…” You nod.

You start walking away to your flight before the announcement rings again with Hu-Tao and Childe crying louder now that they still have work to do over the summer while Yanfei and Xingqui comfort them.

Let’s just hope that nothing weird happens.

Your flight wasn’t weird, you mainly just listened to music and slept the entire four hour flight. The sweet lady seated beside you woke you up once your flight landed.

Getting off was even better, your luggage and small suitcases of clothing and necessities were the easiest things to notice in the crowd of colorful and decorated vacation luggage.

“Y/N, my sweetie! You’ve grown so big, you don’t fit in my arms anymore.” A lady runs up to you and hugged you, probably in her late forties or early fifties. She wore a pink dress for spring while a man (also looked around forty or fifty) accompanied her.

“Hi granny. Hey gramps.”

“Oh come on, give your granny a kiss! I haven’t seen my little boy in so long!” Your grandmother squishes your cheeks and stretches them. “Grandma!”

Your grandfather has to pull her off of you for her to stop. “Honey, let him be. He must be tired-sick from his long flight.”

”Oh you’re right! Come, sweetie, let’s take you home; I’ll make you the best apple pie you can eat!”

masterlist — prev — next

taglist: open! bold means i can’t tag you

beginning with... @mizumetamorphosis , @wawanluvr , @shutingstar , @pookiemax , @chemiru ,

@scaradooche , @swivy123 , @yangbbokari , @academiq , @thystarsshine ,

@zoropookie , @notrsz , @justyoureader , @mercy-not-merci , @kiekole ,

@kazumiku , @featuredtofu , @yourfavoritefreakyhan , @b2tr09 , @ell1e2010 ,

@pwaap , @vxcmx , @vamxpi , @moonslie04, @allaboutiknowthatyoubeingdead ,

@somnium-kiss , @crxwned-mxnarch

(@simonisferal 2024)

[saintship]

humbly would like to request konig seeing s/h scars on his s/o for the first time :’)

fun fact i got dumped one time over em one time, my ex saw em on my thigh and was like “yeah no”

First of all I’m hunting this fucker down, what the hell??

People who get stranger’s IP’s do your shit

I’m so sorry that happened to you, that little boy did not deserve you, I hope you enjoy<3

SIDE NOTE I saw a headcanon on tiktok saying “König is NOT shy” And I kinda loved that so I tried to explore it a bit

Warnings: S/H scars, revealing of traumatic events

König x Reader

Outer Patrol

Of all the assignment you cycled through, outer patrol was the easiest on the eyes. The forest surrounding the base consisted of thin birch trees packed together, so that slivers of sunlight would reach through and grace the east grounds. Your favorite was the early morning outer patrol with König—he shared your fascination with the forest, and slung a loose arm around you when it had been truly freezing last winter.

Now, in the warmth of July, the sun casted its light aggressively through the gaps of branches and leaves, the humid air clouding your thoughts.

The sticks and leaves crumpled under both of your boots, König bringing up the rear on the narrow path.

“Do you think there are bears out here?” You murmur, looking carefully through the gaps of the trees.

“Nein. We make too much noise..” König pointed out. The camp certainly made itself known during artillery drills.

You hum, letting the air settle in silence again. Suddenly, you stopped in your tracks, causing König to nearly topple you over.

“Hey!”

“Sh!” You hold up a gloved hand, staying as still as possible. Slowly, you lifted the other to point ahead of you, where a fox pawed at the ground, investigating the lush grass.

“That’s not a bear.” König’s whisper nearly made you laugh, but you swatted his shoulder instead, smiling.

“He’s so cute..” you whisper. The fox lifted its head, spotting the two of you and bounding away quickly.

“I guess it’s not too loud for him.” You turn around and walk backwards to face your partner as the path widens ahead.

“Maybe we’ll see kits in the spring.” König said softly.

“Aw..” You cooed at the thought, smiling.

The path continued, but there was a faint fork that led off to the right.

“Have you seen this?”

König shook his head.

You pushed back a branch, stepping through the threshold. The path was littered with overgrown ferns, bushes, and a few fallen logs you had to vault over. Finally, the path opened to a clearing, where a small stream expanded into a large pond nestled underneath a trickling waterfall. The rocky ledge slanted down, the falling water sparkling beneath the late morning sunshine.

“Oh..my god..” you breathed. You turned to see König’s reaction; he was transfixed on the water, his eyes shining under the dark paint and hood.

“This is insane..” you knelt by the water, removing a glove to feel the temperature. “Not bad. I bet people used to swim here.”

Suddenly, König’s pager buzzed, and he was broken from his trance to retrieve the device from his hip.

“König, outer patrol..” He greeted.

“Price is tellin’ me to inform everyone off base to not come back until the afternoon; apparently we’ve got more people than we’re supposed to have on the property, and the hounds are here earlier than he thought.”

Simon’s voice rang gruffly through the transmitter, sounding irritated.

“So just don’t come back for a few hours, yeah?”

“Ja.” König replied.

“Thanks, Ghost!” You called from where you knelt at the water.

“Whatever.” The line clicked, leaving them alone with the sound of running water again.

“Well, we couldn’t have been in a luckier spot to stay put.” You stated, pulling off your backpack. You set down your gun next to it and hugged your knees, watching the water.

“That is true.” König conceded. He shed the bulk of his gear, along with his weapon, but remained standing, wandering along the shoreline. He knelt for a moment, seemingly inspecting something, before standing again and tossing a stone sideways, the rock skidding a total of four times before plunging into the water.

“Woah!” You got to your feet, walking over to him. “You could go Olympic..” You found a stone that seemed thin enough, turning it over in your ungloved hand.

“Just turn your hips. Put your soul into it.” König instructed, enacting his ridiculous stone-skipping stance. You laughed a bit, but followed his direction, skipping the rock twice.

“Ha!” You threw your arms up, connecting your hands with König’s for a double high five.

“Not bad..” He chided.

The sun rose in the sky over the next hour, you and König perfectly content with skipping rocks, wrestling, and splashing each other. All the movement combined with the beating sun made for a layer of sweat underneath your uniform.

“Wish we could swim; I’m melting..” you laid on your back dramatically, feeling the warm stones through your shirt.

“Why not?”

“Because, we have work, and someone might- hey!” You sat up, gaping as König lifted his shirt. He was careful to keep his hood on, but dared to strip of his pants, boots and socks.

“What are you doing?” You couldn’t help but smile at his tenacity.

“Just to my waist!” König gestured to his bare torso, his black briefs and hood being the only fabric left on him. You watched as he waded in, the muscles of his back enough to have a warmth climb your neck. You look away, feeling uncertain about ogling your coworker.

“It’s so nice!”

You turned back to see him hip-deep, running his hands back and forth along the surface. The definition of his chest and shoulders was criminal, accentuated by the patterns of light reflecting off the water’s surface.

“Come on!”

“No way!” You grinned, trying to hide the sense of dread the idea brought onto your mind.

“I am willing to use force!”

“Oh, god..” you sighed, removing your boots and socks. You waded to your shins, rolling up your pants so they didn’t get wet. The water was cool, washing away the sweat prickling on your legs. “Happy?”

“I don’t think so..” He sang, wading back to the shore. The water cascaded down his lower stomach, along his thighs. You found yourself furiously studying the pebbles at your feet, rendering you unaware of König’s attack.

He lifted you from the water with damp hands, ready to drop you in the further depths. You yelped, laughing but terrified of coming back with a soaked uniform.

“Alright! Alright!” You shouted. “I’ll get in, crazy!”

A gentle laugh rumbled from his chest, which sounded right by your ear as he set you down. You had felt the muscle of his chest through just a layer of fabric; the thought enough for you to avoid his eyes.

With all the laughter, you almost forgot the reason you didn’t want to undress in the first place. While König returned into the water, you pulled off your shirt, your sports bra being the only covering for your chest. The high-waisted underwear that you wore so your belt didn’t dig dents into your skin acted as bottoms, but you were hesitant to remove your pants. König noticed your labored breathing, returning to your side again.

“You don’t have to..if you really don’t want to.” He said gently, holding out a surrendering hand.

“No, it’s not..I just..” you sighed, irritated, and sat down in the sand.

“Is there something bothering you?” König’s gentle question shouldn’t have made you shrink the way it did.

“I’m sorry I pressured you, I didn’t-"

“König, it’s not your fault.” Your words escaped a bit snappier than usual, your shame building into frustration. “It’s..there are parts of myself you haven’t seen. Things that might upset you.”

König continued to look in your eyes, his concern drifting to confusion.

“There is nothing I would hold against you..” he assured. “If you want to do this, you shouldn’t hold yourself back, it’s alright.”

His words grounded you. He was right; a bodily feature is not grounds for hiding yourself away for the rest of your life when you don’t want to.

You nod, finding it easier to just get to it. Your belt came off first, the sound of the sliding leather deafening in the air of trickling water and chittering birds. Sliding your pants down your legs, the scars stretching over your thighs seemed especially defined under the sunlight. You discarded your pants, resisting the urge to cover yourself. You heard an intake of breath from König; a noise of realization.

“That is why you didn’t want to?” He asked gently.

“Scars like these don’t sit well with most people.” You murmur. Standing, you wade fully into the water, letting the water come up to your shoulders. König followed quietly, the same depth with his height letting the water only reach his sternum.

“I don’t think of you differently.” He admitted softly. “I’m honored you trust me to share something like that..I believe you have nothing to be ashamed of.”

You study his eyes for a moment, the water around you soothing your worries. “Really?”

König nodded, then let the silence stretch its legs between the two of you for a moment.

“Do you wanna go under the waterfall?” König asked.

You smiled. “Your hood will get wet..”

He hummed in realization. “I suppose you’ll have to go under for two?”

You laugh gently, swimming toward the waterfall with a splash at his chest. The water fell gently, soaking your hair and cooling your scalp.

“That’s nice..” you murmured, your eyes closed. “They’re totally going to know..”

Opening your eyes, you spot König already looking your way. The water is deep enough here that the edge seams of his hood are dipping into the water.

“I think it was worth it..”

You know he doesn’t mean it was worth it to escape the heat. Or threaten to dunk you underwater, or watch you tilt your head back under a glittering waterfall. You’d admitted something raw—deeply personal. There was a tie that bound you now, separate from that military based trust that everyone shared. With the others, you’d devoted the sacrifice of your body; your role in the fight. But to one Colonel, you had devoted your mind.

[politemenacephd]

Arachnophilia (Part Fourteen)

Drider!Miguel O'Hara x Reader (+18)

Chapter Masterlist 🕷️

Word Count: 5040 Notes: Voyeurism build up is here, will be dropping that next chapter. For now here's some tension/proper argument w HQ!Miguel and some fluff w Mig

‘You’re sure you wish to return today?’

You paused midway through the very unflattering motion of hoisting your suit over your hips, rolling on the bed like a flipped beach turtle, and turned to find Mig watching you from across the room.

His big red eyes already betrayed his concern as they darted from your face to your body, as did his slowly tapping paws.

You shot him a reassuring smile. ‘I’m sure, Mig! Don’t worry, I have a plan.’

Mig made that same adorable face he always did when he was disgruntled, as his nose wrinkled up and his brows folded in over his big puppy-dog eyes. Your reassurance would never be enough, sadly.

‘You could- stay, another hour’ he offered. ‘They can’t fault you for being a little late.’

You sighed through the nose and finally did up the last hidden button on your suit, snapping it into place.

It’d been a few days since Mig’s confession. You’d managed to snag the extra time away from the society by calling up Jess and going through some early talking points online, but all the time you’d gained had been devoted solely to working through Mig’s worries.

His possessive nature had certain gotten worse since he’d acknowledged his past to you. He startled at every minor noise, he rustled against you constantly to keep you saturated in his scent. He panicked when you weren’t in his line of sight, and he was patrolling his territory more and more.

The worst one though was at night, when he’d hide behind his giant legs and you had to gently coax him out.

It wasn’t easy, but you weren’t opposed to comforting your monster partner. You knew it was going to be hard on him. Today he’d made enough progress to at least let you return for a bit, and that was great, but you knew to expect relapses.

With a slight hop you stumbled to your feet and crossed the nest, carefully taking his hands into yours.

‘Uhuh, I could stay an extra hour. And then you would say, please stay another hour, then another, then another, and then I’m called in for insubordination and I get my watch taken away’ you said, firm but soft.

‘Mi arañita, it’s in my blood to keep you here’ he insisted.

‘Nope, can’t use that excuse anymore. I’m not in heat, am I?’ you said. You tried to keep it light by booping his nose with your finger, but Mig remained tense.

‘It’s in my human blood, to keep you here, is what I meant’ he said, his voice dipping. ‘I just want to know you’re safe. I can’t, know, if you’re not here with me.’

Sensing that he was spiralling you put his hand over your chest. He could sense your heart thumping beneath your ribs, small but strong. It seemed to have an instant calming effect.

‘I’m okay. See? I’m okay. And I’m gonna set something up’ you reminded him gently. ‘Right? I’m gonna go get some stuff while I’m at the HQ, like we discussed. You’ll be able to see my vitals on a screen here so you know I’m safe, and we will- test, you being able to call me, because I know if I give you unlimited reign you will call me every second of every hour. But, you know, I’m bringing stuff back to make this easier.’

Mig grumbled and rolled his tongue against his fangs at your reminder. ‘You… are you, sure, they won’t try to keep you away from me?’ he asked.

‘I’m as sure as I can be, Miggy. I mean Jess clearly got annoyed with Miguel for trying to separate us, remember? I don’t think the elite’s care, so long as we’re not endangering anyone. We’re two consenting adults after all.’

‘A monster and his pet’ Miguel grumbled. You couldn’t help but giggle at his sour tone.

‘A consenting adult monster and his consenting adult pet’ you added. Mig didn’t smile with you but you saw him tap his spider legs a few times, which you knew now meant he was happy. It was like a silent laugh for when he was too worried to laugh openly.

‘Hey. Come here’ you whispered.

You gestured for his foreleg and he stretched it out. You took it between both your hands and raised it your lips, pressing a single kiss to the fluffy little paw, showing no sign of fear or disgust. You then gestured for his human hands.

‘Here. Here, babe.’

Mig outstretched his hands, and with his fingers in your grip you kissed each of his claws one after the other. You could sense his body deflating, slowly losing all of that pent up tension as you showed his body the same love you always did.

‘Pretty spider’ you whispered after the final claw was crowned with your lips. When you looked up he was smiling at last.

‘Pretty spider’ he repeated back. You craned your neck and noticed his abdomen was rustling, the fur on his back gently bristling as his middle legs tapped at the floor. You beamed.

‘Mmm. Happy dance’ you noted.

Mig closed his eyes as he smiled, his old, chiselled face growing soft as he made the dance more overt. He tapped his feet back and forth, gently rustling his fluffy body up against your face. You nestled right back. There was nothing better than seeing that little display.

‘Okay, okay. There we go.’ You gently leaned back after giving him a quick squeeze, your hand flying to your watch. You knew you had to make the portal now or you’d never leave.

‘Guess I better get going.’

With a few clicks a portal to the HQ exploded into the centre of the nest, covering your face in that ethereal orange light. You glanced back over your shoulder and saw that Mig had stopped dancing. It hurt your heart, but it had to be done.

‘Can I have a goodbye kiss, please?’ you offered with your hand outstretched on the precipice of the portal. Mig was eager to take it.

‘Ah- yes, of course mi arañita.’

You should have been wise enough to know that this was a double play on his part. The moment your lips connected his hands were on your waist, digging in deep to the soft flesh beneath your suit.

His lips moved slowly, parting before rejoining as they smothered your own. They were so soft compared to the rest of his ruggedness, soft and full and warm. As his tongue teased your mouth they grew wet.

‘Mm—’

His low moan made your knees weak. It vibrated through your lips and into your soul. His lips parted right as you usually would have left, and soon you were entranced by his tongue.

‘Mm- mmm—’

You forgot the portal at your back as Mig gently rumbled against you, his fluffy body vibrating in a way that made your insides tingle. He dug his claws in deeper, a small dose of shock to widen your mouth, allowing his tongue to go right down your throat.

When he pulled back there was a long and heavy trail of spit between you, one that he licked into his mouth without ever breaking eye contact. You felt that pleasurable tension in your gut triple over.

‘Ah—Mig, I know what you’re doing’ you panted.

He’d held you for so long that the portal had closed behind you. You let out a mildly exasperated huff while he tilted his head, his face sickeningly innocent.

‘Doing what? I just wanted to kiss mi arañita goodbye.’

‘You told me you were incapable of lying, Mr.’

‘I am, yes. It’s not a lie’ he said. The earnest affection in his eyes broke you, and a smile crept back onto your face.

‘Mhm. It’s just- leaving out the full truth, right?’

He coyly darted his eyes to the side, forcing you to grab his thickset jaw and turn his head back. You were on your tip toes to reach him.

‘The full truth, is… I don’t want you to go, but, I know you have to. So I will do what I can to keep you here, because I am selfish. And… I will miss you, when you are gone. Because you make me happy. And, I like having you close’ Mig murmured.

‘I know’ you sighed. ‘I know. I’ll miss you too. And I will be back soon. I promise.’

You bumped foreheads once more before pulling back, and this time Mig let you go.

…

As you flew through the dizzying portal you were surprisingly optimistic.

You were going back to the society, and this time you were no longer alone. No matter what you had someone to go home to, someone to talk to, someone to hold you.

Your perspective on the society had also certainly shifted since meeting Mig, and that was something you had to contend with. Knowing that they were hiding things, these cosmic mistakes they didn’t want to deal with, it bothered you to no end. You’d previously viewed the elites as these unfathomable being, who just had to know best because of where they were, but not anymore. Especially in the case of Miguel.

You felt a little bad, but you hadn’t been fully honest with Mig about your intentions. Yes, you were going back to grab some items for him and to show you were available. Yes, you were returning to ensure your relationship was sanctioned.

But you also had something else in mind. Something a bit more personal. Something for the boss to deal with.

You skipped a few steps as your body was thrown from the depths of time and space, your shoes clacking as you hit the HQ floor. You stepped out into the lobby, into a bustling sea of spiders, and you breathed in the familiar smell of Nueva York. It smelled like spandex, like cleaning fluid and cold park air.

You felt the portal close at your back, leaving you standing alone in this great gathering of your peers.

And then you froze.

Almost half the spiders around you were still, their head craned in your direction. You felt the eyes on every inch of your body. You met their gazes through their masks, and despite you clearly looking at them they didn’t turn or look away.

You frowned. What was going on?’

A new sound filled the quiet buzz of conversation, the worst possible sound you could hear. Muffled laughter.

You spun around only for the laughter to stop, and by the time you’d turned back all the spiders were pretending not to have looked at all. They were deep in meaningless conversation, their heads down, and soon you were once again lost in the crowd.

You could feel your face burning, your cheeks hot and clammy.

Oh, fuck. Shit, shit, shit, fuck, shit, fuck. Did they know? How did they know? Who could have told them?

For a moment your blood ran cold. Wait. Had, Miguel, told everyone? To punish you?

In a brewing panic you started to make your way through the HQ.

All the way out of the lobby and up through the dizzying web of beams you felt eyes on you. You occasionally heard laughter but now you couldn’t tell whether it was aimed at you or not, which only spurred your paranoia, and you only continued to spiral further as you went about your objectives.

You stopped by the lab and grabbed the tech you needed for Mig: a watch for him to programme, a monitor for your vitals, and a few old or nearly scrapped holographic screens that you figured he could fix up. All eyes on you, staring at you through screens and over desks. You hurried out.

From there you made a stop at HR, a pretty run-down and disorganised area compared to the rest of the society, where you grabbed some paperwork Jess had ordered you to fill out. You felt eyes peering over piles of paperwork, soft whispers and curious mumbles hidden behind walls as you piled up the work.

By the time you made it to your last stop you could feel the sweat on your lower back from stressing so hard. Around Mig you felt safe, emboldened, but you were realizing quickly that you were still alone here.

You crept into the open research base and dropped into one of the empty desks. You were here, right back where you started, the day you first met Mig.

You thought of him, back in the nest, and your heart twisted. You missed him.

‘You’re the one, right?’

You jumped as an unfamiliar voice sounded off against your ear. Somehow you’d been snuck up on, and three spider-people you’d never met before were crowding around the back of your desk. Their faces immediately put you on edge; they looked far too familiar with you, far too excited.

‘I- the one, what?’ you stammered.

‘You’re the one who- you know—’

You felt your stomach drop as the spiders broke into playful smiles. You tried to push the chair back and run, abandoning the PC while it was still on, but to your horror the other spiders held you in place. You slumped back into the chair as they offered an overlap of fake coos and soothing words.

‘No, no, hey! Please we’re so curious.’

‘Curious about- what? Don’t- grab me!’ you said, inadvertently snapping as you pulled from their grasp. You could feel other people in the room starting to glance over at the commotion, and it was driving your anxiety way up.

‘You had sex with Miguel’s variant, right? The spider one?’ one of them whispered. The spiders holding you in place were practically giddy as they spoke over themselves.

‘We… they’re, all spiders’ you stammered.

‘No, no! You know what we mean. There’s one that’s like fully half spider, right? And you had sex with him?’

‘I—That’s, nobodies business’ you said defensively. Sadly, your tone only spurred them on harder.

'No come on please, oh my god- does he look like Miguel? Is he that big?'

'Does he have the teeth?'

'Oh god, ew, what's the spider part like? Was it like an actual spider?'

'Did you--' 

‘¡OYE!’

You went rigid in your seat, as did the spiders hounding you. Heavy footsteps filled the room as a huge, foreboding shadow slowly covered your body from behind.

‘What’s going on?’

You turned to see Miguel standing over you, his hands on his hips. The spiders almost fell over each other trying to placate him.

‘Hi! Sir, we were just—’

‘It’s fine Miguel we were—’

‘No gossiping. We’re not a rag newspaper, we’re a serious organisation, that does serious work’ Miguel said, his voice slow and cold. ‘Work that I assume you’re currently procrastinating on, since you’re here, and not somewhere else.’

The spiders quickly abandoned your desk, leaving you spinning awkwardly on the spot in your little chair. Miguel had to grab the back to make it stop.

‘Ah, hey, you—’

‘Come with me.’

Miguel didn’t wait for you to respond after cutting you off. He turned and walked in the opposite direction, his presumptuous, authoritative aura gleaming off him like musk.

You thought about saying no, just on principle, but it wouldn’t help. You’d been planning to talk to him anyway. With a slightly reluctant shrug you obeyed.

Miguel led you in silence up through the heart of the HQ building to his office. The whole way you continued to avoid the curious eyes on your back, focusing instead on what you wanted to say to him.

Up the beams, through the corridor filled with anomalies, down the messy side hall and into his office, where at last you were both alone. You shuddered in the gloom, where the only light was a thin lay of blue from above that tinted your skin. It was only here that Miguel finally addressed you directly.

‘I’m sorry they’re bothering you’ Miguel called over his shoulder.

‘Uhuh. Yeah, me too. Strange how they knew’ you said, making no effort to sugarcoat your accusatory tone. Miguel grunted a chuckle as he picked up on the implication.

‘It’s not strange. HR receives filings whenever a relationship needs to be sanctioned, such as- Peter’s and Mary’s receiving crisis training or therapy, or any spiders entering into inter-dimensional relationships. It doesn’t happen often, so when one comes up featuring a Miguel variant and a random spider, and some intern copying it notices the names, they talk. They talk to their friends at lunch, and then they talk to their friends on missions. Suddenly, everyone knows.’

You felt your face burning as he spun this elaborate story. You wanted to believe he was lying, but, it was one thing he and Mig shared in common: they didn’t lie.

‘I didn’t tell anyone’ Miguel grunted as he jumped onto his desk. ‘I understand how- frustrating hormones can be. I don’t blame you for what you had to do.’

‘Uhuh’ you said, your voice wary.

‘I just don’t understand why you’ve still choosing to remain around my counterpart now you’re free’ Miguel continued as he booted up his set, more to himself than to you.

‘Because he’s my friend’ you said sharply.

Miguel glanced over his shoulder, his one visible eye glowing brightly against the dull blue hue. He looked you up and down.

‘I don’t get it’ he repeated in a low murmur. You hated it but his presence still made you slightly weak, and that soft voice was painfully close to how Mig usually spoke.

‘If you were in pain I would have helped’ he said as he turned back around. ‘It’s not like you had no options. Was I really that cold to you?’

You balked at his unexpected confession, especially when said in such a nonchalant way. It was a pretty heavy thing to drop, surely, to admit that he’d sensed your heat and been willing to sleep with you too?

‘You- are you serious?’ you whisper shouted. Your outrage made Miguel chuckle again, something that only made your face warmer.

‘I’m serious, yes. I would have helped.’

‘Oh, oh of course you would have. Just, out of the kindness of your own heart?’

‘More or less.’

You scoffed openly. ‘My god- Do you have no shame? At all?’

Miguel turned again, craning his neck a little further this time to eye you up fully. You saw the thick curve of his back as he arched it.

‘I’d advise you not to be combative’ he murmured. ‘I’m still your superior, and I’m also well aware of what you’ve done. I don’t think you should be the one to tell me about shame.’

‘Why should I be ashamed?! Because I had sex with a nice person I was friends with, because we shared a mutual attraction? Oh my god, how could I!’

‘You let a monster mate with you and almost get you pregnant’ Miguel snapped back, his voice rising ever so slightly.

‘He’s not- a monster’ you said. ‘Not- I mean, physically he is, unusual, but he’s a good person.’

‘You have no idea who that man is’ Miguel impatiently snapped.

‘Yes, I do. Damn it-- He told me! About Dana!’ you blurted.

A brief silence fell as Miguel’s hands went still. Up until this point he’d been typing, casually micro-tasking while you argued at his back, but now he was totally focused on you.

‘He did?’ Miguel repeated back. He sounded shocked, confused, perhaps even impressed?

‘Yes. He- it sounded, horrible. That poor man.’

‘That poor man’ Miguel sneered, his shock quickly turning back to disgust. ‘You didn’t see what I saw. And that’s not your fault, but I’m telling you now, I saw it. The blood on his hands, the blood on his fur, the—face, of—’

Miguel paused and shook his head. ‘He may not have intended to hurt her, but he did. He couldn’t de-escalate, couldn’t control his own strength. He could have ripped the gun out of her hands, or pointed it upwards. His panic killed her.’

‘He was- he was scared, Miguel!’ you argued. ‘He’d just undergone a painful attempt on his life, he was turned into something new, something scary, and then his life was threatened again by someone who was meant to love him!’

‘Yeah, and you know what? I want through the same exact thing’ Miguel spat. ‘I didn’t kill anyo-- … I didn’t, kill, Dana, Did I?’

Internally you were seething. Part of you wanted to just rip into him for what he’d said, for so cruelly bullying Mig for something that wasn’t his fault while making overt passes at you in the same sentence, but you held your tongue.

At least now you didn’t feel at all bad for what you were about to do.

‘I want to- make a proposal’ you said, your voice echoing through the office.

Miguel blinked. His brows went up, slowly, as his eyes darted across your face. He looked surprised. ‘You do, do you?’

You stiffened your resolve as his shadow covered your body. Before you’d have never thought of standing up to your boss like this, and yet, here you were.

‘Yes. I want you to retract the clause that Mig remain isolated from other spiders and people. He’s not a threat and you know that. He deserves the chance to reintegrate, to see that he’s safe to be around other people and to connect with people like him who won’t be afraid. I want you to let him into the society.’

Miguel grunted, his nose wrinkling with disgust. ‘No’ he barked, and immediately he turned.

He thought that would be the end of it, the stubborn fool, but you weren’t interested in begging for permission. If he wanted to play dirty, you would too.

‘Fine’ you said sharply, ‘fine. Let me guess, his genes make him too dangerous?’

‘Wow, newbie, that’s a great point. You’re right. I’ll keep that on record next time someone brings up the idea of letting him join’ Miguel sarcastically drawled. You sneered.

‘Okay. Well, if he has to stay away because his genes make him dangerous, genes that you SHARE, may I remind you, then I suggest for the safety of the society we make it public knowledge.’

You saw Miguel freeze up. He was clearly frightened, as his back muscles popped to indicate he was tensing them tightly, and his biceps were clearly getting more prominent as he clenched his fists.  

You had to steel yourself to approach that terrifying visage.

‘What are you talking about?’ he hissed over his shoulder.

‘You know what I’m talking about’ you said, getting closer with each word. ‘You know that you go into ruts, the same as he does. You know that for all the pressure you put on him to stay away from people, you happily engage in that exact behaviour.’

‘What are you talking about?’ Miguel repeated, this time in a far gravellier voice.

‘I know, you sanctimonious asshole, that you’ve also been sleeping with people during your ruts!’ you whisper shouted, your voice slipping through gritted teeth.

Miguel immediately scoffed, trying to play it off. ‘You don’t have proof of that. I didn’t sleep with you.’

‘No, not- me, Miguel, I have proof. I have proof you’ve done this before.’

‘Oh, do you?’ he asked in that same sarcastic, defensive tone.

‘You decided to threaten me with my own medical records, so clearly that’s allowed, right? So, I can bring up that there are definitely files within the society bay detailing god knows how many other members or workers, filled with the same genetic material, covered in webbing?’

The moment you said ‘webbing’ he tensed up. You’d got him.

‘Perhaps a few, anti-venom prescriptions? Emergency birth control?’

He tensed up further, his head going forward as his shoulders rolled. You continued to push.

‘I don’t think the wider society would be too kind if they knew their boss was going into little, horny breakdowns, and then secretly taking out his frustrations on its members—’

At that Miguel spun around, his clawed hand slamming itself into the desk at your back. In barely a second you went from standing to trapped, your back bent against the desk with his enormous arms on either side of your torso.

‘Do you think you’re better than me?!’ he spat, his fangs dangerously close to your face.

‘Do you think you’re better than me, huh?’

You felt all of your previous convictions slip in his presence. God he was terrifying. He wasn’t nearly as big as Mig but he was huge compared to you, easily pinning your body to the desk. You felt the cold metal press into your spine as he bent you back, and your eyes instinctively drifted to his fangs.

You swallowed, hard, and were met with the strangest look in his eyes. He seemed ashamed, almost, as he realized you were scared of him, and yet there was something else there. Something more complicated.

You struggled to claw back a semblance of your previous anger.

‘You know what? No. Not in that sense. But that’s my point. We’re the same, you’re just a—’

‘Don’t say it’ he hissed.

‘Hypocrite’ you spat back in his face. With a frustrated grunt he pulled away.

‘I don’t put anyone at risk of spreading my genes!’ he said, his voice rising with his annoyance. ‘And I don’t touch anyone who I could hurt!’

‘How can you know that?’

‘Because they’re all men!’ Miguel blurted. He had to pause to breathe, his hands now gripped tight to his hips. ‘Or- at the very least they’ve had their reproductive organs taken care of. And they’re my friends, I never- I never approach anyone I don’t know and trust. I just… sometimes, I have to—have, something. Just one. But I’ve never- slipped and, indulged in anyone the way your sweet, innocent Mig has.’

‘You- but you JUST said you would have helped me out too’ you argued back. Miguel scoffed again.

‘I didn’t mean sex. I would have- offered something, for relief, because I know how much it hurts. I can control myself, but I’d rather not smell someone else going through the same agony, that’s all.’

‘Look, my— my point is, you do the same thing you accused Mig of doing. You don’t get to keep him out of the society if you’re allowed to be its head’ you said, trying to bring the subject back around.

‘He killed someone’ Miguel hissed.

‘And you exonerated him, because he was acting in self defence!’ you spat. This time your rage drove you forward, and you slammed your hand down on the desk beside Miguel, caging his tiny waist between your arms.

‘We are dangerous’ Miguel said, his voice even colder than usual. ‘We are not, safe. We are not supposed to be in relationships. I tried to tell you this, but if you won’t listen, I can’t help you.’

‘Oh, I’m the one who needs help?’

To your horror, Miguel suddenly let out a deeply sardonic chuckle. He bent so that his lips brushed your ear, and you froze as he spoke.

‘You fucked a spider’ he whispered slowly. ‘You found a version of your boss, who was half arachnid, and you let it fuck you. Furry legs and all. You nearly let it impregnate you. Yes, you need help.’

‘He.’

Miguel’s eyes darted, barely an inch from yours. You met them. You were shaking, yes, but you still stared him down.

‘He. Not it. I let him, fuck me’ you repeated.

You relished, secretly, in the deep resentment that crossed Miguel’s face. He looked jealous.

‘Why… Why, him?’

You blinked, taken aback by Miguel’s veiled question. You were expecting more vitriol, but instead his face sank as he pulled away from you.

‘What do you mean, why him?’ you asked.

‘You were in heat. I smelled it. You should have been drawn to my scent, but you turned and you ran. You ran back to him.’

You decided to let Miguel hang there for a moment, just to ponder how you should approach this.

‘If you ask that question honestly, I’ll answer’ you said slowly.

Miguel stiffened his jaw and stepped forward again. He was too curious to not take the bait. ‘Why? Why would you pick him over me?’

There it was. The most overt thing he’d ever admit. It wasn’t even really about you, was it? It was about his ego. It was about the fact that in that moment, when he’d grabbed you after your hospital trip, you’d been able to turn him down. You’d stayed loyal to Mig, and not just given in to your animal need so Miguel could satisfy himself with your body.

You could have given him a full lecture on why. His coldness, his mean streak, his little bursts of empathy that were never enough compared to Mig’s constant kindness. The way Mig gave you multiple chances to leave while Miguel grabbed you by the wrist, the way Mig praised you and thanked you and wished to acknowledge your relationship openly without shame while Miguel offered only a shameful coupling he would sooner forget.

You could have said so much. In the end, though, you just shrugged. ‘He’s hotter than you’ you said.

Silence filled Miguel’s office. At first his face was unreadable, but slowly, a smile crept onto his lips. It was an unnerving smile, the ghost of something cruel and cold.

‘Oh. Okay. Okay.’

You took a step back as Miguel turned back to his desk. The orange glow was eerie around the contours of his figure, highlighting his terrifying back muscles one by one as he rolled them.

‘Alright. You can have him here. And I won’t keep people off your back anymore. If you want to know, why I keep what I do quiet, why I keep my partners quiet, you can find out your way.’

You snorted. ‘Deal. Done. That’s all I needed from you.’

You left him there, alone on the desk, and you hurried back to the wider HQ, unaware of the new war you’d started for yourself. Link to next part!

[crowborn666-nsfw]

Spring Fever

Hawks x Reader

Tags: whiny Keigo, biting/marking, reader has AFAB anatomy, riding, breeding press, one mention of birth control pills,

~~~~~~

“(Y/nnnn).” Met your ears as you answered Keigo’s phone call. Your eyebrows rose in surprise, swallowing down your drink before speaking.

“What’s wrong, baby?”

“Need youuu.”

“Oh Kei.” You breathed, glancing at the clock, “Your patrol’s almost over, yeah? Can you hold out til you get home?”

“I think so…” Keigo spoke pitifully.

“Alright, you go be everyone’s hero, and when you get home I’ll be yours, how’s that sound?”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

“Okay. See you soon.”

The call ended, and you immediately set about preparing for Keigo to get home.

Keigo got home quickly, as the door opened five minutes earlier than it usually did.

“Lovebird?”

“In the bedroom dear.”

You could hear him shucking off his boots, and by the time he had gotten to the bedroom doorway he had pulled off his jacket and gloves.

His face was flushed upon seeing you, and he all but fell into the bed as you moved to be rid of the rest of his clothes.

As Keigo’s back met the mattress, he finally took notice of the lacy underclothing you wore, a lazy grin forming on his face as he ran his fingers over the red lace.

“You like it?” You asked, rubbing circles into his shoulders that most surely ached from the day.

“Yeah.” Keigo groaned appreciatively, tugging you down in order to reach your skin, kissing and biting at your neck. He plucked at the edge of your bra with his teeth, hands resting comfortably at the small of your back.

“C’mere.” You hummed, urging him to kiss you as your hips pressed to his, gently grinding down in small circle motions.

Keigo broke the kiss with a whine as you moved just right. “Need you… oh fu—please! Please please please.”

“Okay okay.” You hushed him gently, kissing his forehead as you moved to help him remove your underwear and bra. You were quick to tug his pants down, giving him a look of sympathy at his small whines and pleas.

Spring was the hardest time of the year for him, it amazed you that he could do hero work at all with you in the back of his mind.

You positioned yourself above him, carefully sinking down with a groan leaving your throat. Keigo on the other hand was a moaning, whining, flushed mess. His skin was red, sweat and hair sticking to his brow as his hands found your hips, squeezing to try and ground himself.

“Y-You’re on the pills right?” Keigo asked, a slight look of panic crossing his features, as if the thought just crossed his mind.

“Yes, I am, baby. Don’t worry.”

Keigo nodded, whining in earnest as he bucked his hips upward with a small “please…”.

You were quick to start moving up and down on his cock with a steady pace, hands bracing yourself on his chest.

“Like this, Kei?”

“Yes!” Keigo moaned, head thrown back, eyes shut, brows pinched. He was panting as if he had just run a marathon, his moans pitching. “(Y/n), I’m—!”

“It’s okay baby, I can go all night for you. Just let go love.”

Keigo released then, a high pitched moan leaving his throat as he dumped his load into you, hands pawing at your hips. He chanted your name, his hips stuttering as they continued to buck upwards, and you moved at a slower pace, helping ride out his orgasm.

Soon you both settled, panting in tandem with each other.

“Feel better, love? Do we need to go again?”

Keigo nodded, and then quickly flipped you onto your back. “Yeah,” his hands found the back of your knees, “just need,” he pushed your legs up, setting them on his shoulders, “a better angle.”

You moaned at the new angle, feeling his cock hit all the right spots as your back arched. Keigo wasted no time in moving once your hips began to move against him, a few grunts leaving him with his thrusts.

You blinked up at him, seeing those golden eyes holding a lustful fire behind them.

“‘M all yours, Kei dear.” You spoke, reaching up to tug him down. Keigo wasted no time in pressing deep kisses to your mouth, trailing his lips down your jaw and to your neck where he began biting down hard enough to make marks.

You sang your praises for him, listening to him whine and moan and grunt with each thrust into you.

Your back arched off the bed again as your release hit you like a freight train, hands digging into Keigo’s hair as you moaned his name. Keigo bit down into your shoulder, muffled his whiny moan as his orgasm chased him down.

His hips stuttered, whines leaving him with each one as he panted into your neck.

“Feel better?” You asked him, trailing your fingers through his hair.

“Yeah…” he sighed, pulling out of you with kisses left on your jaw. “You know what sounds good?”

“Hm?”

“A hot bath.”

[clangenrising]

Month 15 - Newleaf

Mystique went into labor around sunhigh. Russetfrond was out on border patrol when it happened and the moment he got back, Barleybee came to let him know. 

“Thank you,” he said, gratitude quickly overwhelmed with nerves. 

“Of course,” she smiled sympathetically. “She’s still in the elders’ den. Sagetooth and my dad are with her.” 

“Alright,” he nodded. They stood there for an awkward moment, neither sure what to do, before Barleybee dipped her head and left him to his business. His mind was completely empty and going faster than a frightened rabbit at the same time. After either a few moments or several minutes, he wasn’t sure, Russetfrond gathered himself together and went to sit outside the elders’ den. 

He resisted the urge to pace or to barge into the den to ask how things were going. He’d seen too many anxious parents-to-be get their ears chewed off by Sagetooth when they intruded on a kitting in progress. Instead, he sat still and tried to focus on his breathing, on emptying all worry from his mind. Today was important, the birth of his eldest kits. He wasn’t going to squander it worrying. He was going to focus on his new family, on the beginning of a new chapter in his ultimate legacy. 

The time dragged by at an unbearable crawl. Every so often a cat stopped by to congratulate him or ask him how things were going. He remained as polite as possible but kept things short. He didn’t want any distractions. 

Eventually, an hour or so later, Sagetooth stepped outside, blood on her paws, and glanced over at him. “Are you ready?” 

“Is any father ever ready?” he asked, almost hoping she would say yes.

“I wouldn’t know,” she shrugged. A quiet moment passed as Sagetooth let her gaze drift across the camp. When it finally settled on him again, she said, “Congratulations on two healthy boys. Be warned though: the kittypet is in a mood.” 

“I’m sure I can handle it,” he said, a fond smile spreading across his face. “Thank you, Sagetooth. I mean it.” 

“Of course, kit,” she softened slightly. “Go meet your sons.” Russetfrond nodded and slipped past her into the den, letting his tail brush against her leg as he did. Inside, Mystique was laying in her nest, her head flat on the ground like a mopy kitten while she talked softly with Oddstripe. 

“-bring you some chamomile later,” Oddstripe was saying. “It’s gonna be alright, sweetheart. Don’t hesitate to call me if you start feeling any worse.” 

“...‘Kay,” Mystique sighed moodily, eyes flickering over Russetfrond. He tried not to scowl. 

Oddstripe bumped foreheads with Mystique and then picked up the birthwaste and stood to leave. Spotting Russetfrond he frowned slightly, if sympathetically, and slipped out of the den past him. Russetfrond shifted his weight, looked at Mystique, and she sighed and rolled her eyes over to the far wall. 

Russetfrond stepped closer, focusing on the two gently squirming bodies nestled up against her belly. They were so tiny. Russetfrond realized suddenly that he’d never seen kittens this… new. The kits - his boys - were a little wet yellow lump and a little wet blue lump mewling pathetically as they wriggled closer to Mystique. It was strange, the surge of emotion that he felt upon seeing them. He’d never felt so intensely protective before, it was a bit startling. 

“Hello, there, little ones,” he said awkwardly, crouching down beside them. “I’m your father.” Mystique huffed and shifted her position a little bit, still not looking at him. He couldn’t stop himself from scowling at her but tried to soften his expression again with a sigh. 

“You haven’t named them yet, have you?” he asked, a note of irritation sneaking in to his voice despite his best efforts. 

“No,” Mystique said as if he were the dumbest cat alive. “Why would I name them?” 

That caused his hackles to rise. “Because they’re your children, mouse-brain,” he scoffed.

Mystique’s tail lashed and she flopped her head sideways to glare at him. “No, I feel like you made it pretty clear they were your children.” 

“Look,” Russetfrond took a deep breath to try and anchor himself, “I didn’t come in here to fight with you, let’s just… forget it, alright?” 

“Easy for you to say,” Mystique grumbled, looking away again. Russetfrond dug his claws into the earth and did his very best not to say anything at all. After a few, slow breaths, he refocused on the kittens. They would need names, of course. He had unfortunately forgotten to think about names before now. 

“I’ll call them…” He hesitated before going with the first thoughts that came to mind, “Bluekit and Yellowkit.”

“Wow,” Mystique laughed and he could hear the eye roll in her voice, “so original.” 

“If you think they’re bad names then why don’t you try to do better,” he snapped, tail bristling. 

“I don’t give a shit what you call them,” growled Mystique. “The moment Sagetooth lets me, I'm going home and I’ll never see them or you ever again!” 

“Well, that’s fine by me,” Russetfrond huffed. “I wouldn’t want you influencing them anyway.” 

“Oh, yeah,” Mystique laughed harshly, “better to have a bunch of murderers raise them. That’s SO much better!” 

Russetfrond bristled. “Your brother was the murderer. He attacked Goldenstar out of spite, I was just defending my Clan.” 

“Well clearly it wasn’t that bad ‘cause she’s fine,” Mystique snarled. Tears were starting to form in her eyes and drip down the bridge of her nose. “You think you’re so special but you’re never gonna convince me that it’s good that you killed him! I hate you! I hate you and your stupid kits and this stupid den!”

“Don’t talk about them like that,” he growled lowly. 

“You’re lucky I don’t throw them in the river!” hissed Mystique.

Russetfrond bristled and arched his back. “You harm one hair on their pelts and I’ll make sure you never see your precious twolegs again! Is that what you want?” 

“I want to go home!” she cried at the top of her lungs and the kittens squealed in displeasure. “I want my brother back!” 

“Well too bad!” he shouted back at her. “You can’t always have what you want, you spoiled little brat!” 

“I hate you!” Mystique screamed, eyes shut tight with the effort of it. “I hate you! I hate you! I-”

“What is going on in here!?” Sagetooth’s voice cut through their argument, quick and sharp, leaving Russetfrond standing in a puddle of guilt. The healer’s eyes flicked between the both of them, looking for a culprit. Russetfrond couldn’t hold her gaze and dropped his eyes to the floor shamefully. Mystique breathed harshly through her nose and looked away again. 

“Out,” Sagetooth ordered Russetfrond. 

He couldn’t think of anything to say. With an affirmative grunt, he stepped outside. Fogpaw and Slatepaw were staring with wide eyes from the fresh-kill pile. Pantherhaze, Ospreymask, Barleybee, and Lakekit had all emerged to see what was going on. Shame covered Russetfrond like a winter coat. Unable to bear their stares, he strode briskly into the healers’ den and tucked himself away out of sight. 

There was a long moment of quiet guilt - why had he done that? What was wrong with him? - and then he heard Sagetooth snapping at the assembled cats, “Where did he go?” 

“Your den,” offered Slatepaw obediently. 

“Thank you,” said Sagetooth just as harshly as she had inquired after him and he braced himself. Sagetooth came stomping in, tail lashing back and forth, and spotted him immediately. He expected her to start laying into him but instead, she sighed and trundled over to sit next to him. 

“I tried to warn you,” she grumbled. 

“I know,” he said. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s not entirely your fault,” Sagetooth shook her head. “Mystique is reacting poorly to the pregnancy.” 

“Clearly,” he huffed. 

“No, I mean physically,” Sagetooth said. “Kitting takes a toll on a cat and sometimes it can make them miserable for seemingly no reason. They call it a Kitten Crash.” 

“Oh,” he frowned in surprise. 

“So,” Sagetooth continued, her own voice strained with frustration for a moment, “as much as her particular form of crashing drives me mad, we need to be gentle with her.” It was clear Sagetooth was going to have as much trouble with that as he was. “She can’t exactly help it. And if her symptoms worsen, it could be very bad.” 

“Bad how?” asked Russetfrond carefully.

“Well, she could stop eating,” Sagetooth sighed. “Or refuse to nurse. Worst case scenario she tries to hurt herself or the kits.” 

“What?” fear spiked through his body like a jolt of electricity. “Shouldn’t we get them away from her?”

“No,” Sagetooth shook her head again. “She’s the only one who can feed them at the moment and that’s not a guarantee, it’s just a worst case scenario. That’s why we need to be gentle with her. The less stressed she is, the less likely it is that she’ll do something foolish.” 

Russetfrond swallowed, throat tight, and sat with that information for a bit. The idea of leaving a dangerous cat alone with his kits, a cat who hated him so much, made every inch of his pelt crawl like it was full of ants. She had already threatened to throw them in the river, a threat that was suddenly a lot more serious than he had first thought. 

“You’re sure it will be alright?” he asked eventually. 

“If it gets to a point where it’s dangerous, we’ll do something about it,” Sagetooth said. “She should probably still have a guard at all times so they can monitor her for any bad behavior.” Russetfrond nodded and started thinking of the best cats to do that. 

“The important thing,” Sagetooth continued, “is to keep her happy. Oddstripe and I will do our best on the herbs side of things but you should probably stay out of the den, at least for a while.” 

Russetfrond sighed and nodded. “Alright. That won’t affect the kits negatively?” 

“I don’t think so,” Sagetooth said. “Not anymore than a normal foundling would be affected.” Russetfrond hummed in discomfort. It wasn’t ideal, that was for sure, but what else could he do? He didn’t want to accidentally provoke Mystique into harming the kittens.

“Did you name them?” asked Sagetooth.

“Oh, yeah,” he said, shaking his thoughts away. “Yellowkit and Bluekit, respectively.” 

Sagetooth huffed a little laugh. “Well, I can’t say they’re not fitting.” Russetfrond smiled a little. “Congratulations, by the way,” continued Sagetooth. “You’re going to be an excellent father.” 

“I can only hope so,” he said. 

“StarClan will guide you,” she said. “Trust your heart. It will be okay, kit.”

UPDATES:

- Mystique gives birth to a litter of two kittens. Russetfrond names them Bluekit and Yellowkit.

[immaturityofthomasastruc]

#23: “The Miraculous Ladybug Movie May Give You What You Want, but My Show Gives You What You Actually Need! You Don’t Work in Television, so You Wouldn’t Understand.”

I've been running this blog for almost three years at this point, and I've seen Astruc talk trash about various things while claiming his show is better, like Winx Club, Paw Patrol, Pokemon, and Pixar as a whole. I never thought I'd see Astruc act like his show was better than a movie based on his show though.

For those who don't know (and you'd be forgiven, seeing how Astruc has barely talked about it on his Twitter), there was recently a movie that hit theaters based on Miraculous Ladybug called Ladybug & Cat Noir: The Movie. Supposedly, it's meant to be a retelling of how Marinette and Adrien met as civilians and as heroes. While I haven't seen it, it seems to be getting good reception, with some saying it's better than the show it's based on.

Of course, Astruc had something to say about this.

Okay, I sort of get what he's trying to say here. It's hard to compare the experience of watching an hour and a half long movie and a TV show with five seasons under its belt, but at the same time, the way Astruc phrased it still made it seem like he was trying to say the show was the better option because it “gives you what you need”. Nobody was expecting the Love Square to be resolved in a few episodes. Most people at least wanted more stories about the two to be told that don't involve constant padding. Astruc also acts like the Love Square is the only draw for the series instead of, oh, I don't know, the superhero action? You're really telling me they couldn't have tried focusing more on that after resolving the Love Square? I'm just saying, if The Office can continue after Jim and Pam got together, you can at least try to actually write other stories after the Love Square becomes canon.

One user in particular had some things to say in response to Astruc's claims, and you can guess how well Astruc took that.

Again, nobody is saying that working in television is all sunshine and rainbows, Astruc, but just because someone isn't familiar with dealing with network constraints and test audiences, it doesn't mean that they're unable to provide any meaningful criticism.

Also, Astruc is once again using a psychology term, in this case, the Dunning-Kruger Effect, to act like he's smarter than the critics. This man took psychology as an elective in college, didn't he?

But then again, this is coming from someone who doesn't think constructive criticism is a real thing.

Funny how he once again acts like anything that isn't positive feedback of his show is delusional, isn't it?

Eventually, this devolved into Astruc posting a little tangent about how fandoms have only gotten more toxic, which would have been a decent point... it if didn't come after all the things he said about fans not being able to criticize his show.

Again, there's nothing wrong with what he's trying to say here, but it feels less like a critique of how fans have become more toxic with the advent of the internet, and more like he's complaining about how mean people have been to him lately.

And, of course, this led to the usual fare of people calling out Astruc for his close mindedness, and Astruc once again saying how people aren't allowed to criticize his show in any way that isn't blind praise.

And here's the thing. We're still not done yet. This little tangent only warranted more comments about how Astruc handles criticism, only this time, it's also about calling out the people who think they can do a better job handling the show.

First, do you mind giving us an example of what kind of constraints you have to deal with, Astruc? We all know that TV executives suck, but I think we'd have more of a reason to understand your struggles if you actually explained some things that needed to be changed because of executive meddling.

Second, nobody wants a beach episode, Astruc, especially after that one issue of the comic you're choosing to ignore. We just want a more consistent story that doesn't rely on endlessly padding out the Love Square.

And finally, did you just say you have to be French if you want to rewrite Miraculous Ladybug? What does being French have to do with any of this? I remember seeing a little tweet a few years ago suggesting you would be a good choice to write a Superman story, but last time I checked, you aren't American.

Let's review in case you got lost. Someone tweeted that they thought the Miraculous Ladybug movie did a better job at the story it set out to tell than the Miraculous Ladybug TV show, Astruc tried to explain how his show is still good in its own way while justifying how long it's been going on for, he ranted and raved at fans for daring to criticize his team's writing before going on a tangent about how the internet has made people more hostile over the years, and when people still weren't happy with him, he claimed that you could only criticize or rewrite the show if you're an experienced French TV writer like him.

So just keep that in mind, fanfic writers. Unless you're French and have experience writing for television, you don't have a chance in hell to successfully write your own version of Miraculous Ladybug.

[omnipresentlemon]

Avatar Modern AU Headcanons: The Early Years

Spider was adopted into the family after Neytiri found him wandering around the neighborhood as a toddler in just a t-shirt and underwear on one of the coldest days of the year. She immediately went to the police station and within a week Spider was removed from the McCoskers and was taken in by the Sullys as his foster family.

Jake and Neytiri have it ROUGH for a couple years - four kids under four? Eywa have mercy.

Listen. It is inevitable that little kids have a favorite parent, but the Sully kids are a little extreme with their hardcore Mom Favoritism™️. Neteyam can only fall asleep if Neytiri sings to him. Kiri doesn’t like Jake reading their bedtime stories because “mama does the voices better.” If Spider gets hurt he is inconsolable until Neytiri kisses it better. Lo’ak throws a tantrum for at least an hour every time Neytiri leaves them with Jake. My dude is being bullied mercilessly by kids who can’t even spell their names yet.

I fully support @be-the-glenn-to-my-maggie’s headcanon that Jake and Lo’ak are mortal enemies until Lo’ak hits about 5. But like, in a Megamind kinda way.

Whenever Lo’ak is acting up Jake pretends to call Santa and tell him to put Lo’ak on the naughty list.

Lo’ak will tell other adults the most embarrassing shit about Jake in the worst circumstances.

When Lo’ak is two and realizes his parents have names other than mama and daddy, he calls Jake by his first name only for three months. Imagine trying to discipline your two-year old and he whips out the first name.

In retaliation, Jake refers to Lo’ak as “the brat attack” until Neytiri reminds him that he’s the adult in this situation. He still does it sometimes when Neytiri isn’t around.

Neytiri has the mom reflexes of a god. No ER trips on her watch.

In fact, the first ER visit for the Sullys was when Neytiri left the kids with Jake to go shopping with Mo’at for some baby stuff while she was pregnant with Tuk. They don’t even make it down the street before Jake is frantically calling about Spider splitting his head open on the edge of the coffee table.

Spider is the most accident prone of the kids not due to clumsiness but a serious lack of survival skills and critical thinking. He used to throw himself off the top of the bunk bed he shared with Lo’ak just for fun.

Spider is technically the oldest, but due to the McCosker’s neglect he has some developmental delays and regressive behavior. Neteyam loves being able to act like a big brother for Spider even though he’s a year younger. They have a rough patch when they’re a bit older and Spider starts to assert himself more, but at the end of the day they’re Team Eldest and lean on each other a lot.

Kiri was a leash kid. Jake thought it was embarrassing but Neytiri could no take another incident of Kiri disappearing in public because she saw something interesting and wandered off to investigate.

Bluey is a staple in the Sully household. Jake and Neytiri are just happy that the chokehold Paw Patrol had on their kids seems to have gone away. Plus, now whenever they’re mean to each other, they just have to ask, “would Bluey and Bingo treat each other like this?” It results in an instant apology 99% of the time.

They talk back to their kids babble like it’s the most interesting thing in the world. Neytiri has full-on soap opera plots. The kids find it hilarious.

Jake, at the end of the day, is a military dad. And that means it’s MMA every day in the Sully household, starting young. He’ll suplex them into the couch, throw them onto the bed from across the room, toss them so high in the air he sees the bottom of their feet. Neytiri at first hates it, but she sees how gentle Jake is and tries to let it go. Even if it gives her heart palpitations.

Neteyam’s first word was “dada”, Kiri’s “mama”, and Lo’ak’s “no”. Spider’s speech was severely delayed and it took half a year of speech therapy to get him where he needed to be developmentally, so there’s was hot competition between Jake and Neytiri over who would get his first word.

It’s neither of them. Spider’s first word was “Teyam”. Even when they’re older Neteyam lords it over Spider’s head (but if he thinks too much about it it’ll make him cry, he just loves his brother so much).

I def have more of these percolating in my brain, but for now, enjoy!