#everything else i got free reign over

[beforeimdeceased]

I would love an ellie x reader x abby fic, something super smutty, but modern day. I don’t mind unique details, I will give your free reign on those I just want something powerbottom abby x masc top ellie.

click me!

um okay. so this is actually so unnecessarily long like why did i do that also it’s terrible please don’t beat me up okay :( it’s um definitely something guys if u hate it i’ll delete it I SWEAR I SWEAR

inexperienced!lesbian (me asf) reader x ellabs, reader orgasm, lowkey mean ellabs but ignore that, i didn’t even do the request properly everyone throw tomatoes at me :(

2k words!

nsfw!

‧₊˚ 🎐✩ 🫧 ₊˚⊹♡

The time on your phone flashed 11pm, and underneath it was a flash flood weather warning. You had been watching the news closely and carefully, but even they didn’t predict this.

“I thought they said it would clear up around 10.” Ellie joins you on the couch, a bag of fruit gummies in her hand. You nod, but don’t take your eyes off of your phone. “That’s what i thought too. I don’t know, maybe I can make it home before it gets too bad.”

Just as the words leave your mouth, Abby walks back into the living room. She rips a piece of paper towel off of the stand in the kitchen, drying her hands. “Or you could spend the night here and not end up swimming home.”

Ellie snort laughs but you bite your lip. “I don’t want to intrude. Suddenly having someone else in your private space for longer than planned? Sounds overstimulating.”

Abby joins the both of you in the living room, a bottle of water in hand. She plops herself down on the loveseat, manspreading and leaning back. You feel a knot twist in your stomach. “I don’t mind having you here for longer. Els?”

Ellie tosses a gummy in her mouth before responding. “You’re a pleasure to be around.”

Abby and Ellie wanted to ease your nerves a bit, and proposed a game of two truths and a lie. Fairly simple, you tell a person two truths and one lie about yourself and they have to guess the lie. A half hour had passed and you felt yourself loosening up around them. Laughing at how ridiculous they were being.

“No, i swear it’s the truth. I shook hands with him and everything.” Ellie holds her hands up innocently, insisting she didn’t lie.

Abby shakes her head, bringing a hand up to rub her temples. “Ellie, you did not meet a robot at the grocery store. That man was probably lying to you for fun, or some social experiment.”

You giggle, watching as Ellie put a gummy to her tongue to wet it, then throws it at Abby. “Youre a jerk.”

Suddenly, Abby has lifted herself from her seat and is tickling Ellie’s sides. All of you have burst into laughter, tears rolling down your cheeks at their dynamic.

After Abby’s satisfied with herself, she lets up on Ellie, joining you both on the couch. “Okay, your turn.” Abby looks over at you, placing one of Ellie’s gummies in her mouth.

You take a moment to think of something clever, biting your lip. “Hm.”

“Okay I got it!” You exclaim.

The girls grant you their undivided attention, anticipating your answers. “Okay, so. I’m bilingual. I’m allergic to certain coins and, i’ve never been kissed.”

The two look over at each other, confusion all over their faces. “Fuck.” Ellie leans back. “I’m gonna have to say you’re lying about the coins.”

Abby shakes her head, shooting Ellie a side eye. “Seriously? The last one is obviously a lie, I mean look at her.” You feel yourself growing shy at her statement. “You guys sure about your answers?” You smile, raising your eyebrows.

They both nod, creepily at the same time, and it makes you laugh before your reveal. “I’m not bilingual! English is the only language i speak fluently, but i have been taking some Swedish lessons.”

Ellie bobs her head. “Shit, that’s cool. So wait, what coins are you allergic to?”

You don’t even get the chance to answer before Abby chimes up. “Wait, you’ve never been kissed?” She stares at you, bewildered. “Seriously?”

You nod. “I’m pretty inexperienced. I ofcourse, don’t like men, and I came out pretty late so…” You trail.

You can actually see the devious gears turn in Ellie’s mind. She looks over at Abby and it’s as if they’re communicating with their minds. You wonder for a moment if people truly do have powers, because it seems they came to a very silent agreement just now.

“Abby’s a wonderful kisser.” Ellie blurts out, smiling at the blonde. “And a pretty damn good teacher.”

Maybe they didn’t agree on everything, because after that statement Abby shot Ellie a look that could kill. Ellie just laughed it off, lovingly tapping her shoulder.

“Oh.” You whisper nervously, unsure how to respond. Truthfully, you had been admiring the two of them ever since you’d met them. You were so eager to visit their apartment tonight, making sure to spray on your best perfume. Wearing a cute new outfit that was casual but not loungey. Planning it on a day where you knew the weather would be bad, all with the hope that you’d get to spend the night.

You were also nervous, and inexperienced in this department. What if you fucked it all up?

“I’m sorry if we’ve made you uncomfortable.” Abby chimes up, noticing your body language. You were fiddling with your hands, avoiding their gaze. “I’ll make Ellie sleep in the old doghouse outside if that’d make you feel better.”

You giggle as Ellie hits Abby’s shoulder. “Hey, not out in the rain. Maybe in the closet in the hallway.”

“Oh, you’re going back in the closet?” Abby laughs which causes Ellie to roll her eyes. You watch them stick their tongues out at each other and feel warmth in their friendship.

“You guys didn’t make me uncomfortable. I just didn’t know what to say.” You blurt. The two of them stop goofing and look over at you. Ellie’s got a smug face. “Do you want Abby to teach you how to kiss?”

Butterflies, a swarm of them, rush to your stomach. You try not to look her up and down but your eyes betray you. Soaking in Abby’s tall muscular figure. The way her legs are spread open and wide like she’s daring you to sit in between them. Her blue eyes burning holes into your skin. Anticipating your answer. You bite your lip. “Yes.”

Abby remains composed, but Ellie’s enjoying herself way too much. Moving to the loveseat so that you and Abby can have the couch to yourselves. She looks at both of you, then at you, then at Abby, then at you again. “Wait, do you want me to go-?“

“No.” You say, a little faster than you mean to. “I mean, you don’t have to leave, if you don’t want to.”

Abbys only focused on you now. Eyeing you up and down as you scoot closer to her. “Here, get comfortable. Straddle me.”

You know Ellie’s looking. You can feel her piercing eyes on your spine. Watching your every move, examining you from behind. “Straddle?” You ask, a bit unsure. You’d read the word in a couple books, but never looked up the definition. You realized that was damning you now. Fucking up this very moment.

“Sit on my lap, facing me.” Abby guides you. “Put your legs outside my legs.”

So this was the tummy turning move you’d seen in porn. It felt as good as you’d imagined it would. Your hands latch onto Abby’s shoulders, looking into her pretty blue eyes.

“You okay?” She asks, hands gripping onto your waist to steady you. Her fingers are brushing against the skin underneath the hem of your shirt and the contact is driving you crazy. You just nod, too afraid to open your mouth, knowing your words will spill out. You’re everything but composed right now.

“Okay. Just let me know if i do anything that makes you uncomfortable.” She smiles.

You nod again, and establish an understanding. She moves a hand to the back of your neck, pulling you in, and places a soft peck on your lips. Truthfully, it wasn’t all that exciting but it sent jolts and waves of pleasure through your body. Your first kiss. She pulls away and smiles at you. “How was that?”

“Great- good. Grood.” You stammer. She chuckles a bit and you feel hot with embarrassment. “I meant to say- Fuck i don’t even know.”

She rubs at your sides, licking her lips and looking at you with low eyes. “Don’t worry about it, alright? You ready for more?”

“Yeah.” you breathe, head growing fuzzy from her touch. Her fucking touch, fuck. Gentle, but firm. Guiding you so carefully. So kindly.

“Okay. Open your mouth a little bit.” She whispers inches away from your face. “Yeah, just like that.”

You feel like you’re about to melt, a moan stuck in your throat, swallowed by the blonde. Her lips meshing with yours, guiding the kiss. The hand on your hip gripping tighter. She thrusts a bit, attempting to pull you in closer, and you whine into her mouth. This causes her to dig her nails into your skin, scratching at the tender surface.

By now, you’d forgotten Ellie was still in the room. You’d forgotten where you were, actually. Completely lost in a state of bliss. Her tongue on yours, teeth nibbling at your lip, touch making you weak.

She pulls away for air, and you remain leaning forward. Missing her lips on yours.

“Someone’s eager.” She teases. You bite your lip, scratching your nails on her scalp. “Sorry.” you breathe in a low voice. She shakes her head, tutting and rubbing your cheek. “Don’t apologize, it’s cute.”

Abby calls Ellie over, and you can feel her dip into the couch next to you both. Her cheeks are a flushed red and her eyes look fixated on you.

“Where are you the most sensitive?” Abby asks, shooting a small smile to Ellie.

“Why don’t we let me find out? Is that okay?” Ellie asks. You nod, breath growing heavy. There’s no fucking way this is real, you’re dreaming. You have to be. These two are working together to get you worked up.

You can sense Ellie behind you before you feel her hand slide under your neck. Fingertips on your chin, leaning your head to the side. She places a kiss behind your ear and it makes you shudder. “Fuck.”

They both laugh. This evil, menacing, condescending laugh and it’s making your thighs clench on Abby’s legs. “Ellie, you’re teasing the poor thing. She can’t handle it.” Abby places her hands on your thighs, spreading them apart as they were before.

“She can handle anything we give her, right?” Ellie’s moving her lips further down now. Trailing hot wet kisses down your neck, hands sliding up to grab your breasts through your shirt. You throw your head back, a soft whine escaping your lips.

“She’s so sensitive because she’s never been touched. Bet we can make her come without ever having to take her clothes off.” Abby’s hands begin sliding up and down your inner thighs. You feel a wetness pool in your underwear. “You’re probably right Abs. She’s already so worked up and we’ve barely done anything.”

Are they…mocking you? They’re fucking mocking you.

Ellie hums against your neck, hands slipping down to your leg, making you straddle Abby’s thigh. Abby places her hands back on your waist, hiking up your leg and making you grind against her.

You whine, head falling back against Ellie’s shoulder, but she offers no comfort or sanctuary. Hands kneading your tits while she leaves wet kisses on your jaw. “She’s probably soaked right now.” Ellie breathes.

Abby nods, admiring the way you give into their touch. So willing to be their fucktoy. She looks down at your crotch and hums. “She’s got a wet spot on her pants.”

“Such a shame. They look brand new. Now you’ve made a mess of yourself.”

It’s embarrassing to admit it, but you’re close now. The way your slick has covered your panties and is spreading all over your clit, Abby’s hands on your waist grinding you against her, Ellie’s mouth on you. Her hands on you. The way they’re talking about you like you’re not even there.

“I’m gonna-“ Can barely leave you lips before your climax hits you. You shake, dig your nails into Abby’s shoulder. Cry out an “Oh god, fuck!” and roll your eyes back as they help you ride your high.

Your body goes limp while you try to catch your breath. Everything is sensitive and you feel like you’d just seen stars.

“You did so good, baby.” Abby leans in to kiss you, and then Ellie behind you. “Ready for round two?”

Round what?

[storiesforallfandoms]

shared trauma ~ logan howlett; marvel

word count: 3466

request?: no

description: in which she sneaks away to help them return home, and ends up bonding with the brute with knives in his hands

pairing: logan howlett x female!reader

warnings: swearing, some deadpool & wolverine spoilers, trauma bonding, wade wilson being wade wilson, a good ending

masterlist (one, two, three)

Getting out of Cassandra's compound wasn't as hard as the Others thought. Not when you shut up and played by her rules. She trusted everyone who worked under her enough to let us come and go as we pleased, mainly because she knew we were scared enough of Alioth to come back and be under her control.

The Others also weren't as hidden as they thought. At least, not from me. Lucky for them, I was the only telepath in Cassandra's army, because Johnny's mind gave away everything about the Others without even knowing I could hear him.

When it got dark and mostly everyone had turned in, I snuck out of the compound. I could see the hiding place of the Others in my head, and I knew it would take me a long time to get there on foot, but I needed to get there. There was something about these variants - this Deadpool and this Wolverine - that was different. They may be the key to my freedom from Cassandra. Maybe to all of our freedoms.

I travelled for so long that my legs burned and I felt like I was going to pass out, but I got there. Immediately I was hit with the sounds of several brains, all thinking about a plan to take down Cassandra. All except one, but it was hard to make out what was going on in that head over the wounds of everyone else. I pushed into the place, a silence falling over the room as they heard me enter. I winced with every step I took down the stairs. When I appeared in the doorway, I was greeted by a barrage of weapons.

"Whoa!" I exclaimed, putting my hands up.

"You're one of hers," Blade stated.

"I came alone," I insisted. "I...technically snuck out."

"How did you find us?" Elektra asked.

"Let's just say Johnny Storm's mind was just as loud as his mouth. Look, I'm not here to hurt you guys. I'm here because I think those two - " I nodded to Deadpool and Wolverine " - may be who we need to take Cassandra down."

"And why would you want to take down Cassandra?" Blade questioned. "She's your leader."

"Not by choice. I followed her because I knew it meant survival. But I'm telling you, I see something with those two. I'm clairvoyant as well as a telepath, and when those variants were with Cassandra I could see a fight that ended with her downfall."

The group shared a look. Well, all besides the Wolverine, who was halfway through a bottle of whiskey. He seemed to be ignoring everything going on. I realized his mind was the one I couldn't hear. It was almost like he was trying to block out any thoughts. Not because of me, but because he didn't want to have to think those things.

"We could use a clairvoyant," Elektra pointed out.

"This reading you got form us," Deadpool said. "Did you see all of us winning?"

I shook my head. "It doesn't work like that. Some scenarios aren't definitive, and some are. I saw that we'd fight her, but after that there's a number of different ways it could go. All I saw for sure was that Cassandra was taken down and everyone in the Void was finally free from her reign."

"Sounds like a shit power," Wolverine muttered.

"She could tell us how to avoid the bad paths," Elektra said.

My legs were starting to ache in a way I couldn't handle for much longer. "Can you guys make a decision soon? I walked all the way here and my legs feel like they're about to snap off."

The group, minus Wolverine, shared another look before X-23 - Laura - nodded and said, "We'll give you a bed. Once you're rested, we'll come up with a plan."

~~~~~~

I laid awake that night while everyone else was asleep. We had come up with a plan to attack Cassandra's compound, one that should be mostly successful for everyone if the input from my visions helped at all. Everyone else had gone to bed with hope of a successful mission at sunrise, but I was wide awake with thoughts of going against Cassandra. Unlike everyone else, I had been part of Cassandra's team for a very long time. I had seen the things she did to people who opposed her. Despite the fact that my visions should give us a leg up in this fight, I was still scared of the consequences if we lost.

There was a stir in the air that told me someone was awake. I heard movement and the sound of a glass bottle being picked up. Logan didn't notice as I rolled over to face him. He was already walking up the steps and out of the hideout. It took me all of ten seconds to decide to follow him. This Wolverine may have been a grumpy Gus, but trying to speak with him would be way better than laying in the silent room struggling to sleep.

I followed him into the woods, where he had already started a small fire. He was sat next to it, hunched over with a bottle of Gambit's whiskey. I was shocked there was any whiskey left at this point, but who was I to judge someone else's coping mechanism.

His back straightened when he heard me approaching. "I don't want company."

"Good thing I'm not here to keep you company," I said, sitting next to him but keeping enough space between us. "I'm here to see if you'll share the liquor you're stealing."

To my surprise, he willingly gave me the bottle without hesitation. I took a big mouthful, which proved to be a bad idea when the harsh liquid burned my throat. I winced at the burn and gagged once I had it swallowed. Logan let out a low chuckle. "Not your usual drink of choice, huh?"

"Actually, I've never drank," I responded, passing the bottle back to him. "I was pruned before I was legal drinking age, and Cassandra doesn't have alcohol at her base."

"You nervous to fight your boss tomorrow?"

"She's not my boss. I'm not part of her team by choice. I already said that. You saw Alioth, you saw what he can do. I was young, I was scared, and she promised to keep me safe."

There was a pause. I wouldn't look at him. I knew coming here was a risk. I knew they wouldn't completely trust me. I just wished they would understand I only sided with Cassandra to stay safe and alive.

Logan broke the silence when he asked, "How young?"

"What?"

"You said you were young, below the legal drinking age. How young?"

"I was a teenager," I responded. "Mid-teens, I think."

"What does a teenager do to get themselves sent to this hell hole?"

I shifted in my seat. No one had ever asked me my backstory before, so I never had to reveal what I was most ashamed to admit. "Do you have Hydra in your universe?"

He nodded. I sighed and said, "My parents...they worked for Hydra. They...they let those Hydra scientists experiment on me. Trying to recreate something as powerful as the serum that created Captain America. Except, instead of making me super strong, it gave me the ability to read minds and see the future. Weirdly enough, the TVA doesn't like anyone that can change the future."

"They didn't get you to join them? Seems like your powers would've been perfect for a time variance agency."

I chuckled humorlessly. "That's not how the TVA works."

"You were a kid."

"That's not how the TVA works."

When he didn't respond, I found myself becoming aware of the silence. Like, of the actual silence. I couldn't hear a single thing Logan was thinking. No one could truly block me out. At least, no one I had met. Not even Cassandra could keep me out completely. I looked over at Logan, trying to focus on him, but still I couldn't hear anything.

"I don't like people poking around in my brain, bub."

I smiled a little. "I can't help it usually, but your brain is weirdly silent. No thoughts, Wolvie?"

"They're none of your business."

I left it at that. Despite my abilities, I wasn't one to pry into other people's thoughts. I heard things by accident, but I wasn't searching through people's heads for their trauma. Actually, it was nice to not have Logan's voice in my head. It was true silence that I had not had in years.

"Are you really not coming with us?" I asked him.

"I'm not a hero," he responded.

"You sure about that?" I eyed his yellow suit. "It's not about being a hero, though. It's about going home."

"There is no home for me to go back to."

His mental walls cracked for just a moment then. I could hear something coming from his mind; the faint calling of his name. No, not calling. Screaming. It was multiple voices, but it was just a faint whisper to me. At the same time, an image came through in his mind. It was a woman with red hair and brown eyes. We didn't have any variants of her come through the Void before, but I had recognized her from the minds of other X-Men who I had crossed paths with: Jean Grey.

Just as quickly as those thoughts slipped out, Logan managed to pull them back in. I wasn't sure if he was hiding them from me or from himself, but either way they were gone. I could tell from the look on his face that he knew I had heard something, and he was not very happy that I had.

"You don't have to tell me," I said, my voice soft. "Or...or show me. But whatever it is going on that has you like this, I'm sorry it happened."

His face was hard as stone, but I could see in his eyes that there was a flux of emotions.

"I lost people," he admitted. "Everyone I loved in my universe. It was my fault and...I just couldn't live with that. I did things...things I regret. Things that could never bring those people back."

"You could be reunited with them in another universe."

He shook his head. "It won't be the same. Every other universe already has a Wolverine. The only one that doesn't is the Mouth's, and that's because he died. I couldn't go back there and put them through seeing me and opening up old wounds. Besides, I don't think I could see them again either. Too much guilt."

I could see Jean's face again, just for a moment, before she was gone again. I could feel Logan's grief; his guilt. The more he opened up, the more his mind became easier to read.

I moved closer to him. Not by much, just an inch to test the waters. When he didn't react, I moved closer again until the space between us was almost completely closed. He looked up at me, but for once he didn't have that scowl on his face. He looked curious by my actions more than anything. I didn't try to push his boundaries any further than just being close to him.

"Good people do bad things sometimes," I told him. "It doesn't make you a bad person."

"I'm no hero, kid," he pointed out.

I shrugged. "Neither am I. None of us are here. But that doesn't mean you can't become a hero."

I wasn't sure if it was the whiskey, the fire, or just how close I was to Logan, but I felt a rush of heat washing over my body. I knew I was definitely feel the effects of the alcohol because I was swaying involuntarily. I started to lean in closer to him, but tried to stop myself as best I could. He seemed amused by it, at least, which made me smile more.

I let out a yawn and stood. I stumbled a little, causing Logan to reach out for me to steady me.

"Are you gonna be able to get back on your own?" he asked.

"I think so, but if you see me passed out along the way do me a favor and carry me back," I said. He chuckled and I tried not to beam too much about it.

I started to walk away, or more like stumble I guess, when Logan called, "Did you see me there tomorrow? In your visions?"

I turned back to him and responded, "Maybe. You'll figure that out tomorrow."

~~~~~~

Good news is, the battle at Cassandra's hideout went well. We took down every one of her cronies, and when Cassandra had left with the army of Deadpools to go to Deadpool-10005's universe, we commandeered her place to keep us safe from Alioth.

Bad news is, Wolverine and Deadpool got out, but the rest of us didn't.

No one really seemed upset over that fact. I mean, besides Laura, who was already missing the variant of Logan ("He may not have been my dad, but he was a version of dad," she had said when she realized he had left without her). Blade, Elektra, and Gambit were more proud of themselves for saving the day, even if it meant not going back to their own realities. I guess I was happy to no longer be under Cassandra's control, too, but I found myself wishing I could've left this place too.

And I found myself dreaming about Logan.

Well, partially dreaming. Some of them were visions.

It's not hard to differentiate between dreams and visions. I don't often get visions when I sleep, but when I do I can feel that they're visions. It's hard to explain other than that. Some nights I found myself dreaming of us by the fire again, except this time I allowed myself to get close enough to Logan to touch him. It very rarely went further than my shoulder against his, sometimes my head against his shoulder. But the visions I had were us together in an apartment I didn't recognize. At first they were all the same - me, Logan, and Wade living domestically in some apartment in New York. Laura was there once too, but only one time.

But then once the vision ended with Logan's arm around my waist and his lips against my forehead. I had woken up with a start before anything else happened.

It was the only vision that showed me with him romantically, but I knew deep down inside of me that that's what I wanted. I mean, Logan is an attractive man. No one could deny that. I may have only known one version of him briefly, but still it was enough to leave me longing for his presence again.

It was just another new normal day in the compound previously owned by Cassandra - I was in my own room reading one of the few books Cassandra had somehow found and kept - when an orange door shaped portal opened. I recognized it as a TVA portal. I sat up quickly, my guard high as I waited for a TVA agent to walk through.

But it wasn't an agent.

It was Logan.

"Come on, kid," he told me. "I'm taking you home."

He didn't have to tell me twice. I was up off my bed and through the portal. I expected to be brought to the TVA first, but I was surprised to find myself in a small apartment.

The apartment from my visions.

I looked around, taking in every detail of the place that I had already seen in my head before. Everything was there, from the pictures to the crude drawings Wade had stuck to the fridge, to the mattress in the middle of the living room where Logan slept. Everything from my visions.

"This..." I said, but paused before I finished the sentence. Did I tell him I had been seeing this place? Did I tell him that I had been seeing us?

When I didn't say anything further, Logan said, "I know it's not your home. But...I wasn't sure if you'd want to go back there."

"I don't," I said quickly. And it was true, I never wanted to go back there. After what my parents had done to me, it was almost a blessing to be sent to the Void. Besides being forced to do Cassandra's bidding.

Logan nodded. "Okay. So...well...welcome. You can stay here as long as you want. It'll take some time to get used to actual society again, I'd assume. The Mouth lives here too - "

As if on cue, the front door opened and there stood Wade, being followed by the mut I once knew as Dogpool.

"Ah! You got the girl!" he said, ushering the dog into the apartment and kicking the door shut behind him. "Finally, he can shut up about seeing you again."

Logan's face turned a shade of red I never expected to see from The Wolverine. "Wade, shut the fuck up."

"What? I'm just saying you've been brooding around this place for ages because we had to leave her behind. You finally have her back. Oh, and Laura! You guys can be one big, happy, fucked up family."

I looked over at Logan. "Laura's here?"

"Not staying with us, but she is in this universe," Logan said. "The TVA agreed to let us save you guys from the Void. Gambit, Elektra, and Blade are all gone back to their own universes now."

"Hopefully one where Gambit can find a better dialect coach," Wade added. "And you get to stay here with us! Isn't that just great? You get to share a bed with Wolvie."

"Only if you're comfortable with that," Logan quickly added, shooting another glare at Wade.

"Of course she'll be fine with that. Better than sharing a bed with Blind Al. Actually, can we switch? I'd much rather cuddle up to the greatest showman."

Logan raised a fist to Wade and unsheathed his claws. It was enough for Wade to finally stop running his mouth and scurry off to his room, the dog following closely behind him. Logan pulled his claws back in and let out a long sigh.

"I'm sorry, I know this is a lot to take in at once," he said. "It's a lot of explaining."

"I can figure it out, I'm sure," I said. "Thank you for saving me."

"I should be thanking you."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "I didn't do anything."

"After our talk by the fire, I realized you were right. I was letting the shit I did get to me for too long. I forgot who I was, or who Charles wanted me to be. I just needed a little push from a different mind reader."

I smiled at him. "You just needed someone to tell you you're not a bad person. It's insane to me that no one had done that before I did. Just cause you did bad things didn't mean you were ever a bad person."

There was a pause, then suddenly I was being pulled towards him. Before my mind could comprehend what was happening, Logan's lips were against mine. His hands were holding my face, holding me to him. It took my brain a few seconds to register what was going on before my hands were reaching for his shirt, holding him as well.

Our moment was swiftly interrupted by a familiar merc exclaiming, "Finally!"

Logan pulled away from me to glare at Wade over my shoulder. I heard the bedroom door slam shut again.

He looked down at me. "I'm sorry that you will have to put up with that."

I giggled. "I guess it's a small price to pay if it means I get to kiss you more."

His smile was so beautiful. It really brightened his face after all the brooding and scowling I had seen him doing before. "I'll kiss you as much as you want, bub. Just gotta make sure Wade is locked away in his room if you want it to be any more than kissing."

"Awe, no fair!" came Wade's voice.

Logan and I shared a look before Logan said, "Maybe we start looking for an apartment of our own."

The suggestion caused my mind to fill with another vision: Logan and I in a small place similar to this one, but one that was just our own. The two of us tangled in sheets, completely naked, with the glow of the sunrise spiling through the blinds onto us.

I smiled, both at the vision and at Logan. "I would love that."

[rootedinrevisions]

Since Forever

SUMMARY: After a harrowing near-death experience in the sky when a routine training exercise goes wrong, you and Jake are forced to confront the unspoken tension that's always simmered between you. With a crash landing and a moment that changes everything, the line between squadmates and something more begins to blur.

A/N: Thank you to the person who sent this request in! I'm sorry it's been like 3 weeks since you sent it in, but hopefully, it's worth the wait! Hope you enjoy it! xx

WARNINGS: Angst, Mutual Pining, Plane Crash (Smoke, Impact, Head Injury, Blood), Cussing

WORD COUNT: 3.6k

TAG LIST: IN COMMENTS

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! Below are the fandoms I currently write for.

Glen Powell: Himself (RPF), Characters He's Played

Twisters: Tyler Owens, Boone, Scott, Javi

Top Gun: Maverick: Rooster, Hangman, Bob

Marvel/MCU: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers

WWE/Wrestling: Cody Rhodes, Corey Graves, Damian Priest, Drew McIntyre, Finn Balor, Jimmy Uso, Jey Uso, Kevin Owens, L.A. Knight, Pat McAfee, Roman Reigns, Seth Rollins (if there is someone you're thinking of from WWE and they aren't on the list feel free to ask! There are so many guys on the roster that these were the ones that came to mind.)

The dry California air carried the hum of activity on the tarmac, the heat shimmering in waves off the asphalt as you stood in your flight suit, clipboard in hand. The roar of jets echoed in the background, a familiar symphony you’d grown accustomed to over the years. North Island was as bustling as ever, a mix of old faces and new ones prepping for the upcoming training exercises.

You were focused on your pre-flight checks, meticulously going over every detail on your clipboard. Attention to detail had always been your strong suit, something that had earned you respect in the cockpit and plenty of snide comments from one particular squad mate.

“Still babysitting that clipboard, Ace?”

You didn’t have to look up to know who it was. Jake “Hangman” Seresin’s voice was unmistakable—smooth, cocky, and always laced with that infuriating Texan drawl.

“Still babysitting your ego, Bagman?” you shot back without missing a beat, your eyes remaining on your checklist.

From the corner of your eye, you saw him saunter closer, his helmet tucked under one arm, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. Jake had a way of walking that oozed confidence, like he owned every space he entered. It was both maddening and, if you were honest with yourself, slightly impressive.

“Touché,” he drawled, stopping a few feet away. “But seriously, Ace, you’ve been doing this long enough to know the damn thing’s not going to sprout wings and fly off without you.”

You finally glanced up, arching a brow at him. “Says the guy who spent fifteen minutes arguing with the crew chief yesterday about the ‘perfect’ alignment of his seat harness.”

“That’s called being thorough,” Jake replied, unfazed. “You should try it sometime.”

You rolled your eyes, turning your attention back to your jet. “Is there something you actually need, or are you just here to be a pain in my ass?”

Jake’s grin widened. “Can’t a guy check in on his favorite squad mate?”

“Favorite?” you echoed, snorting. “You must be losing your touch, Hangman. Last time I checked, I was the one gunning for top marks on this run.”

“That’s what makes you my favorite,” he said smoothly, his tone dropping just enough to make your stomach do a small, unwelcome flip.

You hated how he could do that—how he could make the simplest comment sound like it was loaded with a thousand unspoken things. It was part of the tension that had simmered between you two for years, a strange, undefined thing neither of you had ever acknowledged out loud.

“Well, don’t get too comfortable,” you replied, setting your clipboard down. “I’ve got a jet to fly, and you’ve got an ego to stroke somewhere else.”

Jake tilted his head, his green eyes glinting with amusement. “Careful, Ace. One of these days, that sharp tongue of yours is gonna get you in trouble.”

You stepped closer, narrowing your eyes at him as you adjusted the strap on your helmet. “And one of these days, Seresin, you’re going to realize that not everyone is impressed by your southern charm.”

For a moment, neither of you moved. It was like a standoff, the air crackling with the kind of tension that was all too familiar between the two of you. Then Jake stepped back, a soft chuckle escaping him as he raised his hands in mock surrender.

“Fair enough,” he said, his grin still firmly in place. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

He turned and started walking toward his jet, his gait as cocky as ever. You shook your head, exhaling slowly as you tried to refocus on the task at hand.

Damn him.

Even now, years after you’d first met, Jake Seresin still had the ability to get under your skin in a way no one else could. And despite the irritation bubbling in your chest, you couldn’t entirely shake the small, secret part of you that liked it.

* * * *

The sky was a perfect blue—no clouds, just an endless expanse stretching out in front of you. It was supposed to be a simple exercise, just another day in the air, but your instincts had been nagging at you all morning. Something felt off.

You were flying at full throttle, running through the mission parameters, your fingers lightly grazing the controls as you focused on the task at hand. In the distance, you could see Jake’s jet—smooth and precise, cutting through the air just like always. You kept your distance, the tension between you two still palpable, even miles above the earth.

Then, without warning, the engine sputtered.

"Shit," you muttered under your breath, eyes flicking to the gauges. The warning lights blinked red, and your stomach dropped like a stone. The engine—your primary engine—locked up.

“Ace, you copy?” The crackling voice of your Captain came through your comms, sharp and urgent. “What’s your status?”

You took a steadying breath, trying to keep your pulse under control. The jet was starting to lose altitude, slowly at first, but it wasn’t going to be slow for long.

“Engine’s locked,” you said, voice tight. You glanced down at your instruments again, hoping for a miracle. “I’m losing power. Going down.”

 Jake’s voice exploded through your earpiece. “Don’t do anything stupid, Ace. You hear me? Eject if you have to!”

The words felt like a slap in the face. He was always the first one to play the hero, always telling you what to do like you were some rookie.

“Don’t tell me what to do, Seresin,” you snapped, teeth gritting as you struggled to maintain control. You banked hard to the left, trying to level out, but the jet was sluggish—too sluggish. It was dropping faster now, and the ground was coming up at you way too quickly. “I’m not ejecting.”

“I said—” Jake’s voice broke through again, but you could already hear the Captain cutting him off.

“Ace, listen to me. You have two options right now,” the Captain said, his tone firm, no room for negotiation. “Eject, or try to bring her in. But you don’t have much altitude left.”

You had a split second to make a choice. The sky was shrinking, the earth creeping closer with every heartbeat. Your mind raced—ejecting would be easy, sure. But it would cost you the plane, and it would mean another mission down the drain. And there was always that sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach when you had to rely on someone else to pull you from the wreckage.

You focused, blocking out the voices in your comms, focusing on the controls, on what you could do.

You had one good engine. It wasn’t ideal, but you had just enough altitude to make a hard landing. If you timed it right.

“I’m landing this bird,” you said, your voice steely with determination. You could feel the sweat building under your helmet, your pulse pounding in your ears, but your hands were steady. “I’ve got this.”

“Ace!” Jake’s voice came again, a mix of frustration and panic threading through his words. “You don’t have the altitude—”

“Shut up, Seresin,” you cut him off, your jaw clenched as you took a deep breath. The ground was closing in fast now, the harsh reality of the situation crashing over you. You had seconds to decide how you were going to do this. You could almost hear your heartbeat in your throat as you worked the throttle, pushing the remaining engine to its limits.

“Ace, eject now!” Jake was practically shouting now, but you didn’t have the time to argue. You were already lining up the rough terrain, calculating the risks in your head. You’d done it before—this was just another challenge to overcome. “If you crash—”

“I said I’ve got this!” you growled, pushing the throttle forward and making a last-ditch effort to pull the jet back into some semblance of control.

The sound of the engine was sickening now, almost wheezing, but it was still holding on. You could feel the nose of the plane dip, and you knew it was time. There was no turning back now.

You aimed for the small strip of flat ground, mentally calculating the distance between you and the crash site, praying to every deity that you could pull this off.

The jet dropped faster.

Your stomach lurched.

You could hear the voices of your team—your Captain—fading in the background, their instructions turning into static. All you could hear now was the roar of the engine, your breath, and the sound of your own heart pounding in your ears.

And then the wheels hit the earth. It was harder than you expected. The jet groaned under the strain, the fuselage screeching as you fought for control. The wheels bounced once, twice, and the jet jerked to the side as you fought the controls with everything you had left. The impact was brutal. You slammed into the seat, the world going black for a split second before your mind jolted back into reality.

Your head throbbed, a sharp pain searing behind your eyes. You blinked rapidly, trying to focus, but everything felt off. Dizzy. The pain was sharp, but you couldn’t focus on it now.

Your hands still gripped the controls like you were trying to hold the whole world together. You could feel the tension in your neck, the tremor in your hands.

And then, the voice you hadn’t realized you were waiting for came through your comms, strained and desperate:

“Ace, talk to me. Are you okay?”

You were silent for a moment, trying to find your bearings. The crash had knocked the wind out of you, but you had to focus. You had to focus.

“I’m... fine,” you gritted out. Your vision was blurry, your head swimming, but you needed to keep it together. “I just need to—”

The world went black for a few moments. The crash had been rough, everything moving too fast, and then you were suddenly weightless, disoriented, and struggling to remember how you had even ended up in this situation. The impact had jarred you, rattling your body so hard you weren’t sure which way was up. The cockpit was filled with smoke, the once-pristine view of the sky now replaced by the harsh, metallic scent of burning fuel.

You could hear the sounds of the control tower in your headset, distant voices now muffled and indistinct. Your head throbbed, dizziness clouding your thoughts. Something was wrong—you were wrong—but the panic started to subside as your mind tried to latch onto something, anything familiar.

The sound of a plane's engines revving pierced the air, and that was when you realized you weren’t alone anymore. Jake's voice cut through the haze.

"Stay with me, Ace, I’m almost there" he barked, his tone uncharacteristically sharp, the usual cocky bravado gone. His voice was full of urgency, tight with a level of fear you hadn’t expected to hear.

You managed to open your eyes, the world around you spinning, but through the haze, you saw his plane descending in the distance—he was landing, landing without permission. Your heart skipped a beat, knowing he was disregarding protocol to get to you.

Within seconds, Jake's jet was on the ground, its wheels screeching as it touched down, and he was already sprinting toward you. There was no waiting for rescue teams, no giving orders. It was just him, and you.

Your chest was tight, your breath shallow, and for a brief moment, you wondered if it was all just a nightmare. Then, through the haze of your spinning mind, Jake’s face appeared—his eyes wide, his expression frantic as he reached the wreckage.

Without hesitation, he pulled open the hatch, the cockpit door groaning under the force. He didn’t hesitate, didn’t waste a second. He carefully pulled your helmet off of you. His eyes moving to the blood that was caused from the impact. His hands then started working to undo your harness, fingers shaking as he snapped the straps free, pulling you into his arms before you could even comprehend what was happening.

His breath was frantic, like he was holding it in, waiting for some kind of confirmation that you were really there. That you were still alive. And in that moment, as his arms wrapped around you, pulling you into his chest, the world started to stabilize. Your breath came in shaky gasps, your head pounding as the dizziness slowly began to fade.

You blinked a few times, trying to clear the fog from your brain. The weight of your body felt heavier than normal, your limbs still stiff from the crash. But it wasn’t just your body that felt like it was slowing down—it was your mind. Everything was racing too fast, the adrenaline still pushing you into action, but in Jake’s arms, there was a moment of stillness. A second where nothing mattered but the fact that you were safe.

"Don’t you ever do that again," Jake muttered, his voice trembling despite the tough exterior he always wore. His words hit you harder than any of the physical pain, and you felt a strange, overwhelming wave of emotion rush through you. It was as though all the walls you’d both built over the years had crumbled with one unspoken truth. Jake was scared, and in this moment, it wasn’t about flying, or missions, or protocols. It was about you.

You barely registered that you were leaning into him, your chest falling against his as you came back to yourself, your body reacting without thinking, your mind still spinning. His hands were gently running over your back, soothing you, grounding you, even though you could feel the anxiety still vibrating through him.

“J-Jake,” you stuttered.

"I'm here. I’ve got you." His words were a soft mantra, repeated over and over as if he needed to hear them as much as you did.

You shook your head, trying to clear the fog. 

“I... I’m fine,” you said, your voice shaky as you pulled away slightly, lifting your head from his chest. But the moment you tried to step back, you felt his arms tighten, keeping you close. The intensity in his gaze was enough to make you stop moving entirely.

“No, you’re not fine,” he shot back, his voice low but full of conviction. His hands still rested on your back, holding you steady, like he wasn’t going to let go anytime soon. He wasn’t just holding you. He was holding you like he was terrified of losing you.  “You scared the hell out of me, Ace.”

You swallowed, feeling a weight in your chest you hadn’t been prepared for. The vulnerability in his words was jarring. He had never let his guard down like this before. But there it was—raw, unfiltered concern.

The words stuck in your throat, but somehow you found yourself meeting his gaze, feeling the space between you two close, the tension palpable. 

"Since when did you ever care about me like that?" The question slipped out before you could stop it, more of a breathless thought than anything.

Jake froze, his hand still on your arm as he stared at you, his jaw tight, eyes searching yours. For a moment, the world felt suspended in that one breath between you two. He didn’t back away. Instead, his face softened, his expression caught between frustration and something deeper, something he wasn’t saying.

“Since fucking forever, you idiot,” he replied, his voice thick with emotion, almost a growl.

Jake stepped closer, his hand slipping from your arm to the back of your neck, his thumb brushing the skin there in a rare, intimate gesture. The contact sent a jolt through you, and suddenly, nothing about this situation felt like just another close call. This felt like something else entirely. Something you couldn’t ignore any longer.

“I thought I was gonna lose you today,” Jake murmured, his voice low, steady now but still thick with emotion. His forehead rested against yours, his breath mingling with yours. “I can’t lose you, Ace. I don’t think I’d make it.”

The weight of his words landed heavily in your chest. The truth between you two was finally out, raw and real. You swallowed, trying to hold back the lump in your throat.

“I’m not going anywhere, Jake,” you whispered, your voice hoarse. “Not without you.”

Jake sighed and then asked you again, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you said, your voice softer now. You still felt the ache in your head, the sharp sting in your chest, but it wasn’t nearly as important as the way Jake was looking at you now.

His hands slid down your back, lingering for a moment longer than necessary. You could see his jaw clench, the words stuck somewhere between his teeth, and then he shook his head.

“Are you? You sure as hell didn’t look fine in that damn cockpit,” he muttered, his voice low and tight. “You could’ve—You’re the closest thing I’ve got to family out here, Ace," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "I... I don’t know what I’d do without you." His words were a stark contrast to the cocky bravado he usually carried. This was real, and it was raw. "You don’t get to put me through that again, got it?"

You swallowed hard, your heart beating so fast it felt like it might explode in your chest. All the tension, all the unspoken things that had hung between you two for years, were now laid bare in the open. There was no hiding anymore. No pretending like you didn’t feel it, too.

“Jake…” you started, but the words wouldn’t come. 

Instead, you pulled him down into a kiss—soft at first, tentative, but it was as if something broke open between you. You felt the fear, the relief, the longing all tangled up in that moment. His lips moved against yours, a little desperate, a little shaky, but it was real.

When you pulled away, you were both breathing heavy, eyes still locked, both of you trying to process what had just happened.

“I don’t know what this is, Jake,” you whispered, your voice trembling just slightly.

“I don’t either,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair as if trying to pull himself together.

The words hung between you two, thick with meaning. You didn’t know what was going to happen next, but for the first time in a long while, it felt like maybe you didn’t need to figure it out all at once.

You both stayed there, in the middle of the wreckage, still alive, still here—and for the first time in a long time, that was enough.

But then, all too soon, reality crashes back in.

A voice from outside the cockpit, sharp and professional, cuts through the intimacy of the moment like a splash of cold water.

“Hangman! Ace!” The search and rescue team has arrived, and the urgency in their voice snaps Jake out of his daze. “We need to get them out of there, now. Base is requesting immediate transport.”

Jake pulls back slightly, his forehead resting against yours as he takes a deep breath, like he’s trying to steady himself. His hand still lingers on your waist, the warmth of it grounding you, but his eyes betray a hesitation—reluctance to let go of the moment.

“Come on, let’s get you out of here, Ace,” he mutters under his breath, almost to himself as much as to you.

You nod, feeling your heart hammering again, but for a different reason now. His gaze softens, and there’s a flash of something unspoken between you—a promise, maybe. You can’t quite find the words for it, but you feel it deep in your bones.

The medics are waiting outside, and with one final, reluctant glance at you, Jake starts to lift you away from the cockpit. With his steady presence, and one arm around your waist, he helps you out of the cockpit.

“Easy now,” he murmurs as he guides you down, keeping you close to his chest as if he can’t bear to let you out of his arms just yet. “Take it slow.”

As soon as your feet touch the ground, the search and rescue team rushes to assist you, but Jake doesn't let go immediately. His fingers linger on your arm, his gaze flicking between you and the team as if he’s weighing something—like he’s not quite ready to leave you in someone else’s hands. He hesitates, looking like he wants to say something, but the team is already ushering you toward the waiting helicopter.

“I’m coming with you,” he says, voice firm.

“Jake, you don’t have to—” you start, but he interrupts, his tone brokering no argument.

“No. I’m staying with you.”

The hum of the helicopter’s blades is loud against your ears, but everything else seems muffled as you lie back on the stretcher, still reeling from the crash and the kiss that’s left a strange warmth in your chest. The medics are busy around you, but you can barely focus on them, your mind still racing, spinning from the events of the last few minutes.

The moment Jake climbs in beside you, his presence fills the space. He doesn't hesitate, sitting down next to your stretcher and taking your hand immediately, his fingers curling around yours like it's the only thing tethering him to reality. His face is tight with worry, but the way he holds your hand gives you a strange sense of comfort, something steady amidst the chaos.

The medics move quickly, checking your vitals and assessing your condition, but you can barely register it, your heart still thumping in your chest as the adrenaline from the crash ebbs away, leaving you exhausted. One of the medics starts to remove your flight suit, carefully peeling it off your shoulders to get a better look at any possible injuries, leaving you in nothing but a thin tank top that clings to your skin.

You feel exposed, vulnerable, as the cool air brushes against your skin. It’s an unsettling feeling, but Jake’s hand is still in yours, and when the medic starts to prod at your ribs, you squeeze his hand instinctively, a shiver running down your spine.

“Hey,” Jake murmurs, his voice low and soothing as he leans in closer, his gaze never leaving you. “Focus on me, okay? Look at me.”

His voice is calm, reassuring, and even though you're still reeling, his presence is grounding you, pulling you out of the haze of discomfort and medical poking. His thumb rubs small circles over the back of your hand as the medic continues his examination, but Jake doesn't flinch. He doesn't pull away.

“Just look at me,,” Jake repeats, his voice steady. “You’re fine. I’m here.”

You manage to meet his eyes, and the intensity of his gaze sends a strange warmth flooding through you, cutting through the nervousness. In this moment, it’s just you and him, as if the rest of the world has faded away. You want to say something—tell him that you're okay, that you don’t need all this attention—but the words get lost in your throat.

Instead, you hold onto him tighter, needing him to keep you tethered, to keep you from feeling so exposed and raw.

The medic moves on to checking your head, and you wince at the touch, the sting of pain making you flinch. Jake immediately leans forward, his hand tightening around yours as he shifts closer.

“Easy, Ace,” he murmurs. “You’re okay. Focus on me. That’s it.”

You nod, trying to focus on his words, trying to push the discomfort and the questions swirling in your mind to the back of your head. His presence is like a lifeline. His voice is the one thing that makes you feel like you’re not alone in this. Like you're not just another casualty.

“Once they’re done poking and prodding, we’re going to get you something strong to drink,” Jake says softly, the corner of his mouth quirking into a half-smile as his thumb brushes against your hand once more. “And I’m not talking about water. I’m thinking something a little more... celebratory.”

A part of you wants to laugh, but you're too exhausted, too wired from the whole experience. Still, there's a glimmer of something in Jake’s eyes now, something more than just the mission or the tension between you. There’s something new in his gaze, like a shift, and you feel it too—this unspoken understanding between you both that things are different now.

"You're gonna be the death of me, you know that?" you murmur, your voice hoarse from the adrenaline. "One minute, you're flying like a maniac, and the next, you're talking about taking me out for a drink like it's a... date."

Jake’s grin widens slightly, the kind of smile that only happens when he’s completely unguarded. “I’m thinking it’s more than a date, Ace,” he replies, squeezing your hand again. “Maybe it’s a... celebration. You know, to celebrate you not getting yourself killed.”

His tone is playful, but there’s something real behind it, a tenderness that wasn’t there before. Something that’s been waiting to come to the surface for a long time.

The helicopter ride drags on as the medics continue their work, but Jake stays by your side the entire time, never letting go of your hand, his steady presence like a quiet promise that he’s not going anywhere. His words from earlier echo in your mind, and you realize that, for the first time, you don’t feel alone. Not with him here. Not after everything you’ve been through.

When you finally land back at base, you’re still a little shaky, but the thought of what Jake said—of what he hinted at—keeps you grounded, keeps you looking forward to what comes next, whatever that is.

[luveline]

grumpy!joel and sunshine!reader? like he is very gruff and short with people until his girl comes around and tess is like wow are you soft now?

tysm for ur request! disclaimer: I am not an expert in tlou I just think Joel is very fit and also scary ♥︎ tess and joel are roommates here (and also no hate on tess at all I tried to make her a realist rather than a pessimist but she may sound a little jaded) idk lol pls enjoy! fem!reader 

Joel's asleep when you come around. Tess is stirring her drink, small spoon bouncing against the sides of her mug with a metallic tap-tap-tap as your familiar knock raps the door. She doesn't bother yelling, just opens the door to let you in. 

"Hello," you say, though you wince when you spot Joel dozing on the couch. You drop your voice to a whisper. "Nice shiner, Tess." 

"Thanks." She steps aside to give you free reign, rolling her eyes when you toe off your shoes. 

You're not right in the head, in Tess' opinion. You're too soft for this life, and your continued survival feels like luck and nothing more. You know how she feels about you, and you know what she thinks: that to be vulnerable is to kill yourself. You don't feel the same. 

Joel's flat on his back. You push him against the cushions of the couch to make room, perching at his hip with a small sigh. He couldn't have been with Tess when she got hurt, his face clean of contusions. No speckled bruising, no scabbing cuts. 

You place your hand over the solid plane of his stomach and lean forward just a touch. You could kiss him. 

"Joel," you murmur, hand sliding to his waist. His jeans are rough under your palm. "Wake up. I have good news." 

He never wakes gently. His eyes scrunch, his lips tug down into a scowl. When he sees you, it takes a good long second for his agitation to fade into a more neutral expression. 

"Hey," you say, smiling. 

He doesn't smile back. "Where have you been?" he asks succinctly, voice rough with the lingering dregs of sleep. 

"Why should I tell you?"

He almost pushes you off of the couch as he sits up and swings his legs to the side. His shoes touch the floor, and of course he sleeps with his shoes on, he's ready for everything.

"Don't play games." 

You hum in delight at his dark tone and stand up before he can grab you, shivering at the feeling of his fingertips scratching your thighs. You backtrack through the room for your bag thrown haphazardly by the door. You pick it up, excited and scared at once, and scrabble to procure your promised 'good news'. 

"I wasn't far." 

"Your definition of far isn't one I trust," he says. 

"She's a big girl, Joel," Tess says, sipping her drink. She winces at the taste but isn't deterred. "She can take care of herself." 

And if you can't, who cares? You shouldn't be anybody else's problem, and to your credit you aren't. You take care of yourself. You take care of Joel, too, whenever you can, which is why you've brought him the book you found. 

"Here, handsome," you say, holding it out with little ceremony. 

Joel stands up to take it. He stares at the cover in silence. 

"It's a shame they can't include a snippet on every page," you lament. "Like when they used to put perfume samples straight on the paper. I don't know what half of those songs sound like. Which is weird, right? The biggest Billboard hits and I can't remember them." 

"And this is for…" 

"Your codes. Your radio codes?" Your beaming smile starts to shutter. Maybe it isn't useful after all.

Joel knows better than to ask what you want for it. You never ask for anything, ever. You give and you give and at first he'd thought you were stupid, just plain dumb. Generosity is a myth and everybody has their motives. He'd been suspicious of your angle, rejecting you, talking down on you, practically spitting at you to get lost. And you'd listened, for the most part, but then he'd see you in line after shifts for cards, around dark corners talking to dirty FEDRA officers, and you'd always impossibly feel his gaze and pin him with a smile. You've eroded his reluctance over time, and now you're here, sprightly and pretty in his too-big apartment filling every inch with light. 

He reaches across the gap and takes your hand. He squeezes, savouring the warmth of your smaller hand. You have delicate fingers compared to his, and they look smaller still enveloped in his grasp. 

"I'll make you something to eat," he says. 

You nod once, a pop of movement. "Thank you." 

You're not the one who should be saying it but you're the only one who's willing to. Thank you has become synonymous with I owe you. 

Tess lets her gaze flick between your two bodies, clearly startled. Joel drops your hand and it's too late, far too late, she's already gearing up to make fun. 

"Is this how it's gonna be now?" she asks. 

Joel huffs quietly. Tess talks with a brittle kind of love, the familiarity of knowing someone for a long time softening what would otherwise be ridicule. She thinks, without malice, that you and Joel are a bad idea.  

"Hasn't it been like this for a while?" you ask, turning to face her, your usual sunshine attitude worsened by Joel's affection. 

"You're fucking up my guy." 

"Don't get stiffed so often and you won't need a bodyguard," you say lightly. 

Joel snorts, tossing your catalogue of songs on the counter. He doesn't know if they have anything worth eating here, but he's gonna damn well try and find something. 

"You're soft," Tess says to Joel, quick and quipping as she dumps what's left of her drink into the sink. "I'm going out." 

Not much changes when she goes. You come to stand beside him at the counter, your elbow brushing his arm. He doesn't move away. 

Joel doesn't understand why you stick around. Doesn't know what it is that makes you so sweet on him. The first time you met, outside the old meat market on the edge of curfew, he'd been standing watch as Tess made a deal. You'd slunk up on him from the right, and said, "You look unhappy," with your usual softness. 

He'd turned to you in wonder. Wonder in the very worst sense of the word; what could possibly possess you to approach him? Agitation struck like the powdery head of a match against its box, fuck off on the tip of his tongue, and you'd said, "You ever hear that Bill Withers song? 'Ain't no sunshine without rain?'" 

He'd thought you were a wannabe member of the resistance, and that fuck off had rolled right out of his mouth with ease. Your smile hardly wavered. 

"It's 'when she's gone,'" he says now.

You look up at him, he looks down at you. His thick brows relax, and his brown eyes calm. It suits him, and you'd tell him, but you're confused. 

"Huh?" 

"That Bill Withers song. It's 'ain't no sunshine when she's gone,'" he corrects you, the you from the past. He's trying to tell you something without saying it out loud. 

"Oh," you say. Your eyelashes kiss in the corners as you smile. "Right. What am I thinking of?" 

"How should I know?" He doesn't sound mad, smiling at you very briefly.

"I don't know, I thought you knew everything." 

That's not true. He can't know everything, because he doesn't have a clue in the world what he did to deserve meeting you. 

—

please forgive any inaccuracies, I only played the game a little when I was much younger, and so this was made of my watching the first episode twice and some help from people / the wiki!! it's just for fun lol so I hope you enjoyed <3<3<3

[animeomegas]

I wanted to ask if you can do a more in-depth, for Shikamaru in his obsession. Like, A more in-depth look at everyone’s reaction when they found out and a more in-depth look at how they treat each other. You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but I am obsessed with Shikamaru and his obsession

Hehe, I think lots of people love Shikamaru and his obsession~ I decided to write about what happens just after they met for the first time, hope you enjoy~

Omega!Shikamaru x Alpha!Reader

Summary: Meeting his obsession at only age 5, Shikamaru is lucky enough to have his entire lifetime with his obsession at his side. Shikaku doesn't feel quite so lucky.

Word count: 1.25k

Warnings: None.

Shikaku didn’t know whether to be proud, irritated or resigned at the situation that had been suddenly dumped in his lap. The burn of your parents’ suspicious eyebrow raises had him leaning towards the latter two emotions, but the happy purrs his son was letting at his feet, massaging his baby Obsessions hands in his own, tipped the scale back towards proud.

He still couldn’t believe that his son, barely five years old, had already found his obsession. He had been dreading the day this happened, remembering the way his own father had had to reign him in when he fell for Yoshino, and anticipating an older Shikamaru giving him some good old-fashioned karma. But it happening this soon wasn’t something he had predicted, nor something he was ready for. Even in his worst-case imaginings, he had thought about a hormonal fifteen-year-old Shikamaru, never a five-year-old that had only just started learning how to control his emotions.

Shikaku sighed and rubbed his face with his hand. The whole situation was troublesome.

“I understand that this is shocking, it is a surprise to us as well, Naras rarely find their obsessions this young,” his wife explained to your parents.  He was so glad she was here to help him handle this. “But it isn’t something that can be taken back, nor something that can be stopped, so our best course of action is to figure out how we’re going to move forward.”

“This isn’t our first-time hearing about the Nara obsession instinct,” your mother said, seemingly the more relaxed one of your two parents, if the way your father was perched on the edge of the sofa like a tightly coiled spring was anything to go by. “But we had planned on only allowing sleepovers once they turned eight, so hearing about the expectation of sleepovers so suddenly isn’t easy to digest. I don’t understand why playdates can’t suffice.”

Shikaku tuned out Yoshino’s response, knowing that she would handle everything while ruffling as few feathers as possible. Well, provided your parents remained civil and open-minded. If they started demanding things that would hurt Shikamaru, Shikaku would have to pull her back before she decided violence was the best way to solve the problem. But seeing as the coast was clear for the moment, he turned his gaze towards his only son.

Shikamaru still had a tight grip on your hand, but his full attention was on your face now. He was leaning in just a little too close as you spoke, but you didn’t seem to mind. At least the silver lining was that Shikamaru had picked a relaxed baby alpha to obsess over.

“Your hair is very pretty,” you said quietly, a little smile on your face. “I like it.”

Furious purrs erupted from Shikamaru, his little face flushing in pride. Shikaku watched with amusement as Shikamaru immediately used his free hand to try and pull his hair out of his ponytail. His tiny fingers fumbled for a moment, but he eventually got it loose and yanked it out, pulling a few strands out along with it without so much as a flinch.

Shikaku remembered that feeling all too well, the way the desire to please Yoshino, make her happy with him, overshadowed everything else, even pain. When he first chose her, he would have been able to walk over a field of glass without flinching if he thought it would make her smile.

“You can touch it if you want,” Shikamaru said, practically vibrating with excitement as he leant his head forward, his now loose hair falling forwards towards you. “I don’t mind.”

“Wow, so soft!” you exclaimed, running your fingers through his hair. “Do you wash it with fairy dust?”

“No, just shampoo, but I also use conditioner,” Shikamaru announced proudly, pushing his head into your hand like a cat.

Shikaku smothered a snort. He imagined that Shikamaru would no longer roll his eyes and try to get out of using conditioner at bath time, something he was sure would delight his wife.

“We just can’t agree to that many nights with them away from home, away from us, they’re our child,” your mother said, just as Shikaku turned one ear back to the main conversation. “We might be able to divide the four nights in half though. We could have Shikamaru stay with us for two nights, but we’d need support navigating their relationship because we don’t know what’s normal or-“

Confident that things were going well enough that he wouldn’t have to restrain his wife, Shikaku turned back to his son and the baby alpha sitting on the floor beside him.

“Can I plait your hair, please?” you asked his son, still idly petting him.

Only yesterday, the same question had come from Ino, although the tone had been a little more demanding, and his son had rolled his eyes, refused, called Ino troublesome and gone to hide upstairs to take a nap.

His response now was like night and day. Shikaku watched his son’s face light up, his head bobbing up and down instantly.

“Yes, yes, whenever you want,” he said, falling over himself to turn around and present you with the back of his head. He scooted backwards until he was almost on your lap and then folded his hands together on his lap, waiting with barely contained excitable energy.

It was so strange seeing his son like this. He was used to his lazy petulance when face with chores, the competitive gleam in his eyes when they played shogi, his thinking face when he was presented a new puzzle or mystery, but this tidal wave of genuine, open affection and eagerness for companionship was something Shikaku had never seen.

“Thanks! You’re the best, Shika!” you said, separating his hair into three parts.

His son looked ready to ascend to a different plane of being.

This whole thing was a mess, Shikaku though, rubbing at his eyes. He wasn’t looking forward to the hundreds of tantrums he’d have to diffuse, the weird impulses he’d have to redirect or having to host another five-year-old in his house all the time. However, the pure happiness radiating off his son was more than worth all the bad. He was glad that Shikamaru would have his obsession with him for his entire life, and maybe it was wishful thinking, but hopefully Shikamaru would be used enough to his obsession and coping mechanisms that the hormonal nightmare of teenagerhood wouldn’t be so bad.

Shikaku gave the two children one more glance, vaguely amused to see Shikamaru silently mouthing ‘my alpha’ over and over again as you focused on plaiting his hair, before properly turning back to the conversation he was supposed to be a part of.

Everything would work out; he would make it so.

…

BONUS:

“Well, we should probably head off now,” your father said, standing up, holding the newly drawn up custody arrangement. “We’re having dinner with my parents tonight. Darling, time to leave, go and get your shoes on, please.”

“WHAT?! NO!”

“Here we go,” Shikaku sighed, trying to intercept Shikamaru before he got a hold on the baby alpha. Too late.

“Shikamaru, let go, they have to go home,” he said, kneeling down on the floor with them both.

“No!” his son whined, tears gathering on his water line. “They’re my alpha! Mine!”

“Shikamaru, that wasn’t a suggestion. Let them go.”

Shikamaru only growled at him, so Shikaku just started pulling him off you by the scruff.

“Shikamaru, stop struggling, stop- Ow! You little- He just bit me!”

[luimagines]

Steel Trap Mind (1600 Follower Raffle)

Our first place winner was @goopyartiste!

They asked for anything Warrior related so I was given total free reign. :D

Enjoy.

Masterlist

Content under the cut!

“Is he awake?”

“Is he alive?”

“Don’t speak so loudly. Everything’s going to be ok.”

“I need to see him!”

“He took a really bad hit-”

“Lost a lot of blood-”

“-amazing he even survived.”

He groans loudly and turns his head. It’s killing him- not that he wants to make a bad pun over the words he’s been overhearing. There’s voices all around him, he gathers that much. It’s bright on the other side so he keeps his eyelids closed but he can’t help the groan that escapes him as he enters into the waking world once again.

“He’s awake!”

“Oh thank the three!”

“Warrior, you’re ok!”

He huffs and figures that he should at least try to figure out where he is. At least they sound concerned over him. But who’s this Warrior they mentioned? Maybe he’s in the other bed next to him. He’s sure that there’s a lot of men in the infirmary right now. It couldn’t have only been him. He can’t seem to remember how he got here. Was the attack that bad?

What was his name? Link.

Does he have a family? No.

Is anyone waiting for him at home? No.

Where is he now? Well that's a question he has to figure out now, ain't it?

He groans again and forces his eyes open. The lights have dimmed. How considerate. 

There’s a bunch of people around his bed, teary eyed and all wearing expressions of varying degrees of relief. He frowns. Who are they?

“I’m so happy you’re alright.” You say. You reach down and take his hand, holding it gently. Your other hand comes up to caress his cheek, almost lovingly. 

Link can’t think much of anything right now. Only that his head hurts and he doesn’t think he’s home right now. He looks around the room and frowns a little bit. This isn’t the medical ward for the wounded soldiers. “Where am I?”

“We’re in a random town.” A boy with more scars on his face than Link has seen someone have. His hair is long and he has more scars on his arm that Link can see. “You were hit in the head so we brought you here to the local inn to recover.”

Link lets the information sink in. Strangers, then. Very kind strangers. He sighs and leans back on the bed. He was attempting to sit up but he must have been in worse shape than he thought if he could hardly lift his head off of the pillow. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, well next time try not to die, alright?” Another boy sasses him. He has pink hair somehow but Link gets the idea that he’s familiar with him. Stranger still- Link has never seen this boy before in his life. “We’ve got enough heroes between us all that there’s no need to make unnecessary sacrifices.”

“You scared me.” You say, gripping his hand tighter. You’re smiling softly even as you start to tear up again. You bring his hand up and kiss the back of it. “Don’t ever do that again. Promise me.”

You know him. You know him. You have to, or else you wouldn’t be doing that.

Link gets the impression that he’s important to you. But- He grimaces slightly, already imagining what this is going to sound like. “...Who are you?”

Everyone in the room goes still.

You seem to freeze entirely and grip his hand impossibly tighter. Frantic panic increases in your eyes as you search his face for something- anything. “You’re kidding, right? Link, this isn’t funny.”

“You know my name.” He whispers softly. The look that crosses over your face is absolutely heartbreaking. 

Tears start streaming down your face before you can even speak. “It’s me! You love me! I love you!”

“I don’t know you.” He settles for. Link doesn’t think he can be gentle with another person like this. Cia was bad enough. Granted, she never said that she loved him. Let alone claimed that he loved her but there have been countless others that have tried to get him to see to reason with similar arguments. He really needs to talk to Zelda about this.

“Hey now.” An older man speaks. “Settle down.”

Link looks at him and changes that assumption. He’s older than him, sure, but enough to actually phrase it that way. He has similar markings on his face though. Link things that if he tries hard enough he can remember why they ring a bell in his head. 

The man puts a hand on your shoulder and very gently pulls you away before you can collect yourself and potentially strike him. “It was a bad hit. Remember that.”

Yeah, ok- the older gentleman isn’t not talking to him.

“Warrior, what’s the last thing you remember?’ Another young man- wait, how many people are here again?- steps closer and puts the back of his hand on his forehead as if he was checking for a fever.

Admittedly, Link might be a little warm. His head still hurts. “Who’s Warrior?”

The room feels as if he had just lit a short fuse on a bomb.

You choke on a sob and Link turns his attention back to you. It’s a heart wrenching sound. As if someone had just stabbed you, or worse, killed someone in front of you. You are quickly escorted out of the room by three of the young men around him. The boy with the scars, another with a fur pelt, and the older gentleman are quick to take you out of the room.

The remaining people (five, he’s counted this time) all stare at him with varying levels of shock and despair.

“...Do you remember us?” A small voice comes from his left. There’s a boy. He’s young. He’s wearing a blue shirt with a lobster on it- hold on.

“You.” Link says and he feels a smile grow on his face. It’s weak and it doesn’t erase the pain he’s feeling, but the familiar face is nice. “I remember you, pirate. You’ve gotten bigger since the last time I saw you.”

“Not really.” He smiles bashfully, stepping closer to the side of the bed. “Do you remember anyone else?”

Link feels the weight behind that question. Looking around the remaining faces, he can’t say that he knows who they are. “Who are they, kiddo?”

The young boy gulps and bites his lip. “It’s a long story.”

One of them sighs and rubs his hand over his face. He’s a rather built young man with a long white cape over his back. Link thinks that maybe he can find someone to fix his scarf to look that cool. “This… is unideal.”

“You don’t say.” Someone snaps. It’s the smallest one there, but the voice doesn’t match the height. He’s probably older than Link originally thought. Link likes his tunic though. Very colorful.

A heart wrenching sob makes its way through the doorway as the older gentleman walks in again. It’s you. 

Link knows he’s caused that. He hates to admit to himself but what else was he supposed to do?

The older gentleman (Link gets ice in his veins when he remembers what the markings are) steps into the room and sighs. He rubs his hand down his face as looks over to where Link is on the bed. “I’m sure… you have questions, Captain.”

A title. Yes. Link has a title. And Link definitely has questions. “Who was that?”

Vaguely, Link knows that shouldn’t have been the prominent question on his mind, but for some reason he can’t pinpoint, he hates that he made you cry.

No one answers his question at first so he tries a different tactic. Clearly, he’s missing some information. “Are they important?”

To the mission? To this group? To him? Link doesn’t register that as a too vague a question, only that he wishes for it to be answered.

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

Well shoot, Link sighs. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” The final young man to speak tilts his head, raising his hands as they glow. Fascinating. Link stares at it. He’s hardly met another Hylian that could use magic so casually. “You wouldn’t have had it any other way. Pushed them out of the way and took the hit and all that.”

“Oh.” Important to him, it is then. Faintly, he thinks he could still hear you cry. “I hurt them.”

“You did.” Pink haired boy grumbles. “But there’s not much we can do about it. It’s a miracle you even woke up again as it is.”

A miracle. Link takes a deep breath. He seems to be running on pure fumes powered by those alone. “I hurt them.”

Somehow, he feels the need to repeat himself. Link doesn’t like the inky feeling that curls around his heart at the thought of that. If he pushed you out of the way of an attack, surely that means he cared about you to not think something through.

It’s stranger still- that it came to that at all.

Link has always prided himself on thinking fast on his feet and having contingency plans for his contingency plans. He’s not one to miscalculate. Many battles have made sure of that. Close encounters on top of even closer encounters have made sure that his senses were sharp and steely as the blade he wielded. 

To be hurt the way he was meant that he had miscalculated dearly. Or rather, the attack would have surely killed you and he wasn’t thinking at all when he acted. If he wasn’t thinking when he acted at the thought of you in danger or being attacked, then you meant more to him than anyone here was telling him.

Aside from you.

You did say that he loved you. And that you loved him. 

His throat suddenly feels dry.

”Here.” A cup is placed by the side of his face in an instant. Link takes it and manages to take one gulp of water before he remembers to take sips. 

“I wouldn’t have wanted them to be hurt.” He says after giving the glass back. He barely finished half of it before he started feeling nauseous. How long was he unconscious? How badly was he injured, truly? “I wouldn’t have wanted them to-”

Link starts to cough.

“We know.” The pirate gently pats his shoulder, rubbing small circles. Another thing he remembers. Link used to do the same to him when the pirate wasn’t feeling too well after a battle. Something about the food and movement not agreeing with him. It’s strange to be on the other side of the act. “They know it too. They won’t be angry at you for it.”

“No?” He looks at the boy, because he knows this boy. He can trust him. Link doesn’t know if he can trust the rest of the faces in this room.

The boy shakes his head. “You would never hurt them on purpose. You’re not that kind of person. They know that.”

Link strains his ear to hear you on the other side of the door. It’s gone quiet, but he’s almost positive that you’re still upset over this development. He wonders what he would have done to get this sort of reaction from everyone here. “Who are these people, kiddo?”

“We’re all Link.” He answers easily.

Link catches onto the way the others flinch slightly. 

He still can’t say that he knows them.

“We have to get his memory back.” The young man with the white cape says after a moment of silence. 

“It’s not that easy.” Magic Man shakes his head. “This wasn’t caused by a spell. At best, we should be asking The Champion how he deals with his memory loss. Amnesia caused by injury is a different challenge entirely.”

Link sighs and looks back to the door with his tongue between his teeth. 

Amnesia? He almost wants to laugh. Do they not know who he is?

Link doesn’t forget easily.

[xesiarah]

𓏵 Yan!Mafia Boss x Reader

Side notes: started ts when I was taking a shit + I wrote this to cure my wattpad loving younger self leave me alone teehee

Summary: You got sick and your hot obsessive macho bomshakalaka mafia boss husband decided to make it everyone's problem 😈

—

—

You've never thought you'd be paying for your sins this early.

It's as if every single enemy you've had in life is suddenly granted a free reign to beat the shit out of you.

You're currently bedridden, at this point, basically anticipating death to arrive, to take you out of your misery and drag you to the depths of hell where you'd honestly feel way better in.

Well, would you look at that. Your husband enters the room with a commanding presence, almost making the sickness dissipate from your body. Almost. He gracefully kneels to check your temperature with his hand. His gaze carries a blend of innocent concern you'd think he didn't slaughter individuals for a living. "Are you absolutely certain you're feeling alright? If you need anything else-" you cut him off, looking at him dead in the eyes, literally and figuratively. "I need ibuprofen and a will to fucking live."

Actually, you were never one to fall ill easily; in fact, you're 100% positive you're as healthy as a horse. But on rare occasions, the severity would escalate to the extent that you would be confined to bed for over a week, or even worse, to the point of hospitalization.

Nothing truly scares you; it's just that ever since you started dating Damon, everything began to feel like your mom's most delicate china dishes, one wrong move and this dude's patience will snap just like that. And he's never one to fuck around with. — Especially when it comes to the one he treasures the most.

So, when you did fall sick, Damon is in need of someone to take his anger out on, and naturally, he targets his own men.

Those incompetent little shits. He has always made sure to have his men watch over you, whether it be in public or when you desire a sense of privacy. He ensures they stay out of your sight. A week ago, he granted you permission to go out, under the condition that you were accompanied by at least three proficient bodyguards, strong buff men somehow turned into your little ladies-in-waiting. — Later on, when he found out that the cause of your illness was just fuckass rain, he was furious. And all because the 3 dimwits in charge failed to bring an umbrella, like, has not one of them thought about waltzing into the nearest store to buy one!? Stupid buttfucks. Seriously, you'd assume that with the amount of money he pays them, they would come together hand in hand.. and with the power of friendship! Manifest an umbrella in order to shield you from the rain.

At present, the three men who looked after you are trapped in the confines of his office. The tension is so thick, it's like leather or rope, which Damon himself could use to strangle these wastes of air. "Why do you fuckers think I hired you?" He's menacingly seated at his desk positioned in the center of the spacious room. The men were paralyzed by fear, just like your forgotten cup of soda left in the freezer - completely frozen. "Answer me," he calmly stated, and by "calmly" I mean he's pointing a gun at them and didn't shoot immediately. That's quite peaceful, don't you think?

"Or none of you will survive out here," he added, his tone dripping with hostility. As if he even had the intention of letting that happen in the first place. The moment your temperature spiked was the precise moment these three idiots were declared deceased. "N-none of us thought it was gonna rain-" The taller of the three spoke, making the unfortunate decision to try to reason with the devil's incarnate, — lil bro didn't even have time to regret it because his brains were blown out almost immediately. "You think being prepared isn't part of the job!?" Damon could feel himself age ten fucking years. How stupid can you be!?

"Leave." He gestures with his hand. With a heavy heart, both survivors were relieved to finally leave. But, they weren't able to even take a few more steps out the door when two gunshots struck them in the head. Their dead bodies fall to the floor in a loud thud. "Assholes." He muttered, messaging his temples and turning to his second-in-command, holding the gun. "You have been so kind in granting them a lengthy existence, boss," he remarked with a smile. Without even sparing the dude a glance, Damon mumbled, "I need y/n."

Of course, he does. You're literally the only one who could reduce this life-threatening man into a lovesick puppy.

[ghostingcrows]

I used to talk about this a lot but 

IDW Prowl is probably one of the most complex characters in the comics and I absolutely hate it when hes reduced down to “the asshole character”

Cause like

Yeah sure hes got a bit of a stick up his ass

But I feel like people just end there analysis of him there

Has he committed a lot of war crimes and done unethical stuff

Yes

But so has literally EVERYONE else in this universe

Starscream is literally the pinnacle of war crimes

The comics make a point calling out even Optimus for his questionable actions and orders during the war with the Dinobots saying he makes them do the dirty work for him

Megatron literally commits genocide and yet his story ends with an alternate version of him going free and exploring the universe with the LL

The literal war lord was treated better and is looked upon more positively than Prowl and I think it just came down to how fucked Prowl got by the writers

Because while Megatrons redemption was all in your face and you got a shit ton of flashbacks that try to justify the eventual atrocities he would commit you don’t get that with Prowl

Even when Prowl is absolutely in the right you constantly have it disregarded by characters making jokes about him overreacting (being mad OP is sending the space tyrant away with free reign of his own ship isn’t overreacting btw-) and as such you start to think of him as a genuinely irrational character when hes not

Prowl is bad at keeping the relationships he forms yes 

But he is not always at fault for that

While his relationship with CD ended poorly Chromedome is also shown to be kinda of a dick sometimes and commits his fair share of fucked up things such as when he literally ATTACKS PROWL AND FORCES HIS WAY INTO HIS MIND TO PROTECT HIMSELF FROM THE CONSEQUENCE OF HIS ACTIONS WHEN PROWL THREATENS TO TELL REWIND ABOUT THE SHITTY STUFF HE DID IN HIS PAST

This leads to Prowls inevitable snowball out of control when this attack leads to an opening for Bombshell (I think its been a while since I read the comics) to use his tech to mind control him forcing him into combining with the contructicons

Something we learn is an immensely intimate thing with their minds being kinda melded 

This was something Prowl did not want 

And when all was said and done and he was calmed down he still had to live with that gesalt he was forced into with them following him around like fanboys

Nobody ever even really stopped to check in on him 

And as such he understandable went a little bit insane

He had just faced an immensely traumatic invasion of his body and mind and on top of stress form feeling like everything was out of his control and like he couldn’t stop the bad things from happening alongside bitter emotions being brought back up with a return visit to Earth and reunion with spike AND the fact that he feels like Optimus doesn’t trust him and like hes just letting Starscream do whatever he want (something that understandably freaks him out seeing as how he spent 4 million years fighting Starscream) he just kinda snaps

He trys to destroy the space bridge so that no one else can leave or get through and so he can regain some semblance of control

Is it wrong

Yes

But he was not in a good state of mind and no one was helping him at all 

And immediately following his arrest afterward Prowl is confronted by OP who is supposed to be his friend and when Prowl doesn’t say the right things to him to placate him Optimus’ response is to punch him out a window and beat the shit out of him

And not being given any room to breath this is immediately follow up my him getting kidnapped by Tarantulas who is very obviously an impactful and negative part of his past

Prowl just has bad event, one after the other, happen to him over and over again and not only does no one check up on him afterwards to see if hes okay but everyone actively makes fun of him for being understandable unstable

Prowl is a fucking tragedy and not many people seem to be able to see beyond what characters in the comics think of him

[robinsegghead]

Danny's Daycare Part 2

[Master List]

The first few days that the daycare was technically ‘open’ he didn’t have a single kid. This was to be expected, Danny was an unknown for the most part, people didn’t trust him, even the people he’d met who mentioned considering it were right to be wary. But they would grow to trust him. He’d been volunteering at soup kitchens, leaving fliers in mailboxes and doorsteps, and spent a great deal of time in public spaces so that people would know who he was, and hoped Lady Gotham would maybe sway her people to trust him a bit.

            On the Thursday after opening, things changed.

            He was sat at his desk doing an ungodly amount of paperwork (being a king was not in fact, a sweet deal), when he heard the door open.

            A young Latina woman carrying a bundle in her arms walked in warily.

            “Hi.” Danny smiled brightly, reigning in his excitement so as not to scare the woman off.

            She looked around for a moment, stopping quite a ways away from his desk. “Is this the daycare?”

            He nodded. “It is. Pretty new so I don’t have any kiddos yet, but I can be patient.” He was, in fact, a liar.

            “I don’t have a lot.”

            He shook his head. “Oh, you misunderstand,” He knew nobody liked being a charity case, especially not Gothamites, so he went with the lie he and Jazz had come up with when he first started. “this daycare is sponsored by a very wealthy anonymous donor, it’s completely free.”

            She eyes him skeptically. “I wouldn’t come here if I wasn’t desperate.” Ouch. But fair. “I got called in for a shift but my husbands at work and their abuela’s out of town.” She hesitated, looking between her kid and Danny.

            “Well, that’s what I’m here for. I can show you around if you have time?” He offered, hoping his openness would comfort her. She nodded firmly and he moved towards the double doors to their right. “Okay, so this is the main room, we’ve got toys, books, and coloring materials, brand new donations.” She took it in slowly. “We’ve got bathrooms right over there, a cafeteria through those doors, and a room for naps on the other side of the entryway, I’m planning on installing a playground after the worst of winter is over, and this,” he handed her his card. “is my information. Feel free to look me up, run a background check, whatever you need to do to feel comfortable leaving your kid with me.”

            Skepticism was obvious on her face. “Why?”

            “Why what?”

            “Why do this? What do you gain?”

He shrugged. ���I like to be helpful. I’m paid reasonably. It’s my job. Take your pick.”

            Another question seemed to be forming when her phone went off. “Shit.” Gently setting her child down -it looked like a boy- she checked it. “I have to go. Emilio,” She crouched in front of the boy. “Mama has to go to work, papa will be here to pick you up in a few hours, behave.”

            He gave another smile, hoping it made him look innocent and trustworthy.

            “My husband will be by to pick him up by three, Emilio is four, fully potty-trained, and likes reading. He ate an early lunch before we came here so don’t feed him.” Her tone was serious, and he nodded resolutely. “I….” She looked torn.

            Offering a gentler smile, he crouched down. “Hey Emilio, my name’s Danny, I heard you like reading?” The little boy nodded, his black curls falling in his wide eyes. “Lucky for you, I have a whole shelf of brand-new books, you wanna give them a look?” The little boys’ eyes widened, and he nodded.

            As Emilio looked over the shelves of books, Danny reassured the mother. “I’ll look after him, don’t worry, he will be safe with me.”

            That was the beginning of Danny’s Daycare. He wouldn’t pretend everything went smoothly after that. It was another two weeks before Emilio’s mother (Ana) brought him back and another week before anyone else dropped their kids off. Jazz helped him create the necessary paperwork to have filled out by parents about their kids and he was able to get important information about each of them which he promptly memorized.

            The daycare had been open for two months (to the day) and Danny had three regular kids. Emilio, who was four, loved reading, and wasn’t shy, Clara, who was a little blonde spitfire, five years old, and had claimed the trainsets as ‘hers’, and Booker, Danny had fondly nicknamed him ‘Boo’.

            Booker was two and a half, and the first of Danny’s kids who was not fully potty-trained upon meeting him. No big deal, he could change diapers, it wasn’t fun per se, but it was a part of the job he’d signed up for when he advertised his daycare being for kids six months to six years. Booker liked anything shiny, Danny had specifically bought shiny toys the night after first meeting the kid and was rewarded with oud and happy shrieks at the new toys.

            March passed in a blur.

            Life was good.

~~~

            It was after a long day at the beginning of April that Danny found himself walking home from work and attempting to ignore the nearby gunshots he was hearing. He wasn’t a vigilante. That wasn’t his problem. He’d come to Gotham to open a daycare, not fly around, and stop crime. This was Red Hood’s territory; he’d deal with it.

            But when the gunshots stopped Danny started to feel unsettled. After a solid minute of trying to shake the feeling that something was wrong, something he needed to fix, he gave up and moved towards where the commotion had been coming from.

            The alley was seemingly empty but as Danny peered closer (thank Ancients for his ability to see in the dark almost as well as in the light) he noticed a foot sticking out from being a dumpster. Carefully making his way towards the body, he made sure not to make a noise. He didn’t want to alert any lingering goons to his presence.

            “You’re a sneaky one, aint’chya?”

            Danny made eye contact with the man on the ground but not before noting the heavy flow of blood seeping through his shirt or the gun in the hand that wasn’t trying to keep the blood inside his body. “It comes in handy.”

            “I bet.” He grunted.

            Putting his hands up, palms out, Danny moved closer slowly. “Can I help you?”

            The man eyed him warily. “Depends.”

            “On what?”

            “Who you workin’ for?”

            Danny didn’t know what the wrong answer was, so he was just honest. “Nobody. I work for myself.”

            “Eveybody’s workin’ for someone, kid. Who ya workin’ for?”

            Okay so that didn’t work. If he pushed the idea that he worked for himself the man was more likely to think he was a spy or goon for some other mob boss. Who would be safest? Who could he say he worked for that this man might not try to shoot him?

            “Technically?” He tried to sound casual. “I work for Red Hood. But I don’t really do the whole… guns and fighting thing. I volunteer at soup kitchens and stuff.”

            With only a moment’s hesitation, the man lowered the gun and grunted. “Hood’s one a the good’uns.”

            Danny pressed forward quickly, disposing of the man’s shirt and assessing the wound. The bullet had gone straight through, and it seemed like it missed any vital organs -lucky- but he’d lost a lot of blood. “I’ve got to get you to Dr. Thompkins clinic. Let me help you up.” The man grunted as Danny pulled him to his feet and supported the entirety of his weight. “Come on.” Danny heaved, pretending the man’s weight was actually difficult for him.

            It wasn’t.

            When Danny had first arrived in Gotham he’d done as much research as he could. Some things he didn’t think were particularly important (who cares which model Brucie Wayne brought to his newest gala?) but others he found to be very valuable. Like a free clinic that didn’t send people to hospitals or call the cops, where everything was kept confidential. It sounded too good to be true, but he’d looked into it and found that Dr. Thompkins was legit as was her practice.

            (He had a sneaking suspicion she was heavily funded by Bruce Wayne)

            “Is there someone I should call to pick you up?” Danny asked, feigning a struggle with the man’s weight.

            He grunted. “I’ll make it home alright, kid.”

            Danny waited a moment before asking the question he’d been thinking since he’d first heard the gunshots. “What happened? You a goon?”

            The man continued to struggle forward. He huffed. “Yeah, kid, Imma goon. Needed money, found m’self in the middle’a somethin’ bad. This’s just a warnin’.” Danny hummed, helping the man up the stairs at the front of the clinic. “I can manage from ‘ere kid.”

            “Danny.” He offered a tight smile. “My name is Danny, I run a daycare in the Bowery. When you’re all healed up, come find me. I’d like to offer you a job that doesn’t involve guns or drugs.”

            The man looked at him incredulously before turning back to the door. “See you around, kid.”

            “See you later, sir.”

            The man barked a laugh. “Bianchi. Victor Bianchi. And yes, you will.”

~~~

            The snow had finally melted, and Danny was finally able to get the playground he wanted installed behind the daycare. He’d taken ideas from his friends on what would be the most fun and diverse. After that was taken care of he’d need to build a fence as well, but that wouldn’t take long at all. Unfortunately, with the snow gone Gotham was now rainy about eighty percent of the time. Danny hadn’t been ready for that.

            It was on such a day that Danny found himself walking home, soaked to the bone, catching his death (ha) of chill, when he met his new best friend. He’d almost made it back to the apartment (which had been under construction for the last few months, repairing each apartments living conditions) when he found a soggy carboard box housing what used to be a white cat but was now closer to brown with mud and grime.

            The cat was meowing in a pitiful way, so Danny thought maybe it was asking for help. Upon closer inspection he found three smaller cats nestled into her belly, water soaking through the box and dripping onto their tiny bodies. Without much thought, Danny scooped the box up and rushed it to his apartment. Once inside he transferred them to another box (thank Ancients he hadn’t thrown them all out after moving) with a warm blanket.

            He didn’t bother changing his clothes as he was about to go out once again- he knew there was an emergency vet open until eleven on weeknights just a few blocks away so he had plenty of time, but he had no idea how long the cats had been sitting in a puddle and couldn’t wait. Swiping an umbrella (when had he gotten an umbrella?) he rushed back out making sure to keep the box dry the entire way.

            He paid very little attention to his surroundings on the way, someone could easily be following him or trying to get his attention and he wouldn’t know it. He had been accused of having tunnel vision in the past. He wasn’t sure why. Pushing through the doors he hastened to the front counter.

            “Hi, how can we help you?” The vet tech asked politely, still typing on her computer, not bothering to look up at Danny.

            Danny evened his breathing (why was it so fast? He didn’t need to breath what the fu-) “I found this cat and her kittens in a wet box and wanted to make sure they were okay. They were really cold and shivering when I found them so I switched them to a dry box with a blanket and brought them as quickly as I could.”

            She nodded. “Okay, we should be able to take a look while you fill out this paperwork if that’s okay?” He nodded, handing the box to another tech who quickly took them to a different room. “We’ll just need some information from you, I’m sure you don’t know a lot about the cats since you just found them. Are you planning on keeping them or do we need to find a shelter to take them?”

            As a kid Danny had always wanted a pet. Of course, he’d wanted a dog and his parents Maddie and Jack had said no because a dog would disrupt their workspace, but he’d been willing to settle for a cat if it meant he could have a companion. He’d done all of the research required on owning a dog. He’d been shot down. So he did the research for cats and been told no once again. He’d done the research for rabbits and ferrets and snakes and lizards and fish but every time- ‘no Danny, we don’t need a pet’.

Eventually he’d gotten Cujo who was close to what he’d always wanted. He was a little busy for a normal pet at that point so he’d kind of Given up on it. He’d never considered getting a pet once he’d moved out on his own- he’d lived in the Infinite Realms, and he had Cujo there so it hadn’t occurred to him.

            He didn’t have time for cats! He was already busy with the daycare every weekday and visiting the realms on Saturdays and seeing Jazz on Sunday mornings and doing a group call on Sunday evenings- “Yes. I’ll keep them.”

            Well. Okay then.

            Someone needed to teach him to shut up.

            She nodded again, typing some things before printing the paperwork. “Okay, I’ll need your name and some contact information. You can go into that room and fill it out while the vet looks them over.” She nodded towards the room he’d seen the cats taken into.

            Throwing a ‘thank you’ over his shoulder, he pushed his way into the exam room. The mama cat and her kittens were laying on the blanket Danny had brought on the exam table. Mama was licking her kittens clean while the vet tech typed some information on the computer.

            “Ah, hello. I’m Margot.”

            “Danny.”

            She smiled, glancing at the screen before turning back. “Okay so mama is in good health and two of the kittens are as well. The orange one seems to be sick, I’m thinking pneumonia, but we won’t know without further tests. It’s treatable and I’m not too worried, he seems strong otherwise. I’d guess they’re three, maybe four weeks old. The orange one is a boy, the calico is a girl, and the white one is also a girl. Any questions?”

            “Uh… do you need to keep them over night, or can we get these tests done in the next couple of hours?”

            “It won’t take that long, maybe an hour or so to get the tests done and send you on your way. I heard you found them; do you have the things necessary to take care of cats?” He shook his head. “Hm, that’s fine, we have a volunteer here who will help you get everything you need from the in-building store while we finish the tests, I’ll go get him.” She opened the door and disappeared.

            Danny let mama cat sniff his hand. Once he’d met her approval, he gently touched each kittens’ heads, offering little scratches of comfort before offering mama the same treatment. “You guys are gonna come live with me, okay?” He let Mama go back to cleaning her babies while he filled out the paperwork- phone number, home address, name, etc.

            “Tyler informed me you are ill-prepared for the responsibility of owning cats.”

            Danny jumped, unsure how this kid had managed to sneak up on him. He was Danny’s height, with black hair, dark skin, green eyes, and a serious look on his face. Dumbstruck (because seriously how did a teenager sneak up on the king of the infinite realms?), Danny nodded.

            “Who’s Tyler?” Danny asked, dumbly.

            Raising an eyebrow, the boy huffed. “The tech you just spoke with. Margot Tyler?”

            “You call her by her last name?”

            “I call everyone by their last name.” He rolled his eyes. The boy glanced at the cats and softened marginally. “My name is Damian; I’ll help you find everything you will need while Dr. Kelly runs some tests. Follow me.”

            Being given no choice but to follow, Danny allowed the serious boy to lead him past the check-in desk and towards what appeared to be a store. “All of the items here are provided by… a donor. They are free to those who need them. You will need a litter box, litter, a scoop, food and water bowls, food, a brush, a scratching post, and toys. You will also be provided the necessary tools to take care of the sick kitten.”

            Damian was very informative, and Danny couldn’t help the small smile. “Okay, sounds good. I walked here though, should I get everything now and run it home before coming back for the cats, or take the cats home and leave them while I come back for the supplies?”

            He thought for a moment before deciding. “I would take it all home now so that the space is ready for the cats once you bring them home.” Damian began handing Danny everything he’d need. Most of it fit into the litter box and he didn’t think it would be much of a problem to carry it all home until Danny pulled the container of litter and bag of cat food down.

            “Might take me a couple of trips.” Danny muttered to himself, calculating exactly how difficult it would be to carry some of this with the cats but ultimately deciding against it. He could do it if he weren’t worried about looking slightly suspicious. But nobody would be able to carry all of this without struggling- not without powers.

            Damian looked between Danny and the supplies before sighing. “If you require assistance I suppose I could carry the food and litter.” Shaking his head, Danny made to argue, but Damian had other ideas. The boy hoisted the bags over his shoulder without much effort and raised an eyebrow. “Lead the way.”

            That was how Danny found himself letting a teenager into his apartment  and showing him the best ways to set everything up. “Cats prefer their water to be separate from their food. I grabbed a fountain for you because they also prefer the water to be moving. You can use a regular bowl until the kittens are grown up. They also prefer if their litterbox is in an area with low foot traffic.”

            Listening to Damian talk about the cats was quite informative and he could feel the kid relaxing as Danny did what he suggested every step of the way without question. Once the apartment was set up they began their short trek back to the clinic.

            “I really appreciate all of your help, Damian.” Danny started. “I’ve never had a pet before, but I’ll do lots of research about everything you suggested.” He didn’t know how he’d find the time, but he meant every word.

            The boy gave a firm nod. “Research is important. The vet will tell you what you need to know, and there are plenty of resources at the clinic.” He paused. “I suppose, if you have any questions and cannot get to the clinic… you may call me.” He held his hand out expectantly; Danny scrambled to pass his phone to the kid feeling like this opportunity would be taken away just as quickly if he hesitated.

            A moment later he was waiting for the vet in the exam room with Damian’s number in his phone and a lot of information in his head. He could do this. He’d taken care of Cujo, right? It would be fine!

            (He ignored the nagging reminder that Cujo was already dead so there wasn’t much Danny could do to mess it up).

~~~

            “Heya kid.” A familiar voice rose from the doorway.

            Looking up from his work, Danny found the familiar figure of one Victor Bianchi looming in his doorway with a friendly grin on his face and a friendly kid on his hip. “Mr. Bianchi, you should be resting.” He gave a pointed look.

            The man waved his hand dismissively. “I’ve been restin’ for days! Had to get outta the house. The wife’s fussin’ too much.” He shifted the little girl in his arms. “This ‘ere’s Allegra.”

            Danny moved away from his desk and towards the little girl. “Hello there Allegra, my name’s Danny. How are you doing today?”

            She stared at his outstretched hand, headed tilted to the side contemplatively. “You have an owie.” She pointed at the scarring on his hand curiously. Mr. Bianchi pulled her hand away and gave him an apologetic look.

            “She’s real curious.”

            He’d been fully prepared for people to point out his scars for the rest of his life, a kid’s genuine curiosity wasn’t going to upset him. “No worries Mr. Bianchi. They’re old owies, Allegra, they don’t hurt anymore.” Except when he remembers the feeling of his fingers being severed from his body, forced to grow back until they’d do it again and he could still remember the pain “What can I do for both of you today?”

            “Trains!” Allegra shouted, wiggling out of her father’s grip and rushing into the playroom which was still vacant for the time being.

            “Well I guess that settles it. The wife’s worried I won’t recover as quickly if I gotta look after ‘er all day so… I guess I’d like to drop her off?” He sounded like he wasn’t sure how any of it worked.

            With a small smile, Danny gestured to his desk. “I’ve got a bit of paperwork for you to fill out and then we’ll be set.” Rifling through the mountains of paper on one of his many desks (seriously why did he have so many? He had one in the Infinite Realms, one at the front of the daycare, one in a private office at the daycare, and one in his apartment- who needed that many desks? Kings, apparently) “Have you given any more thought to what I suggested?”

            Mr. Bianchi shifted his weight a couple of times. “I, uh- yeah, I don’t know what kinda work you’d need a guy like me for though?”

            “Have you ever built a fence, Mr. Bianchi?”

            Mr. Bianchi had in fact, built a fence before. He’d mentioned something about creepy ass neighbors with cameras pointed into his yard before telling Danny to show him where he wanted the fence. Ember watched Allegra while the two went to the back and figured out what would work.

            “Is my daddy gonna work for you now, mister?” Allegra asked as he settled down beside her to play with the trains together.

            He thought for a minute before nodding. “Yes, I think so. I’d like him too. He seems like a good worker.”

            She nodded vigorously. “He is! He’s the goodest worker! He doesn’t complain or nothing’! Even when he’s hurt he don’t say nothing bad about his boss!”

            Danny figured, when you have to work any job you can get to support your family, you probably learn to ignore your complaints and just… push through it. Aside from the Red Hood, it didn’t seem any of the other crime lords took care of their people- another reason to thank the vigilante. True, Danny wasn’t a real Gothamite, but every day he felt a deeper connection to the city and her people. He’d become protective of them, especially those in the Bowery and Crime Alley.

            He’d protect them all, in any way he could.

            “You want the red train or the blue train?”

~~~

            Four nights later Danny got a call that reminded him- he couldn’t even protect himself, how was he supposed to protect everyone else?

Prev. Next

[koolades-world]

Hi hello! Congrats on 2k!! I'd like to request "is that my shirt" and/or "you're so cute it hurts" with Asmo please

thank you! of course i can :)

yet another cute prompt combo! and with asmo? you're a genius

this was my first time writing in a separate program so if the formatting and the way it's written feels a little strange or different that's probably why. i'm still trying to figure things out, so please don't mind that haha. it kind of threw me off but i'll get used to it eventually

enjoy <3

prompt 7 and 29 w/ Asmo

When Asmo said he’d be gone for a long weekend, you assumed you’d be alright. After all, it was just two and half days. You both had your separate lives too. The initial separation was tearful on Asmo’s end, but you thought you’d be fine.

Unfortunately, you were wrong. The first evening alone was strange for sure. You were so used to spending you evening with him and Mammon, chatting about your day while Beel sat quietly in a corner, munching on whatever snack he happened to have at that moment. Mammon was happy to have you all to himself, but it felt wrong without Asmo.

The next morning felt strange too. Since it was a RAD day, you had to go without him. You were so used to doing your vastly different morning routines side by side while the two of you shared your plans for the day. In his absence, he gave you free reign of his room and bathroom in case you needed something. You took him up on his kind offer because fighting for the regular bathroom wasn’t something you wanted to do that early in the morning. The other brothers would gladly share with you, even if they were in the shower, but you didn't want to share our routine with anyone but him.

You didn’t share too many classes with him, but the ones that you did were empty feeling despite everyone else being present. Lunch was a bore too. The evening rolled around again soon enough and by that point, you fully felt the absence and missed him. Of course, you still spent time with the other brothers. But you dearly missed the time you spent with Asmo. You missed the sound of his voice, and his presence in general. His brothers didn’t seem to mind as much as you, probably because he’d done this a million times before. As much as you wished he was having fun on his trip, you couldn’t wait to have him back.

On day two, a Saturday, you found yourself in his room again. The other brothers were busy for the next hour or so, giving you a little free time. You sat on a lounge chair in his room on your D.D.D, doom-scrolling. You saw some of the pictures he posted on Devilgram, and made sure to give him a like and leave a sweet comment. He responded pretty quickly, leaving you with a fuzzy feeling. He told you that he missed you. You sighed. He had only been gone for about two days, and you’d gotten to the point of wallowing in his room. It was a little pathetic. As you sat there, you gaze wandered over to his giant closet. You gave into the urge and got up to explore.

You’d been in Asmo’s closet countless times, but you’d never been in there by yourself. He had countless drawers and shelves full of various accessories. Walking a little further into the closet allowed you to reach the actual clothing. Everything was neatly organized by color and style. A little more walking took you past his fancy, and casual outfits to all the way in the back were he kept his sparse pajama collection. It only took up one rack compared to everything else’s several. You leafed through it and found something you didn’t even know he owned.

You’d never seen him in it and it didn’t even look like a purchase he’d made. It was a large t-shirt and a pair of tiny short that didn’t look as if they’d cover much and didn’t match the shirt at all. It looked a little worn, but ws still in good condition. But the fact that he still had it said something about the meaning behind it. While his other pajamas were more luxurious, something about that pair called to you. You took it off the hanger and brought it back to your room to change into it for bed when the time came.

Just as you’d intended, you wore it that night to bed and it was just as perfect as you’d imagined it would be. It was made of a very soft material, and even smelled like him. While you still missed him, it help soothe you a little. Besides, you’d see him sometime tomorrow afternoon.

None of the brothers seemed to recognize the clothes as Asmo’s. It made things easier for you. You spent the evening with Beel and Belphie, since Mammon happened to be busy, so it was considerably quieter without him there. Still, the three of you had a great night snacking and watching your favorite tv show. You fell asleep later than you usually would because Mammon and Asmo were the ones that insisted you throw in the towel and call it a night. As a result, you woke up considerably later the next day.

After checking the time, you realized Asmo would be home soon. So, you got up and got yourself ready for the day. Preferably, you’d be out of his clothes by the time he got home. No sooner than you’d left his bathroom and was about to get something to eat, you heard the front door open.

“I’m home!” You heard the voice of your favorite demon ring out through the giant, empty foyer. You rushed to meet him there.

“Asmo!” You ran up behind him, trapping him in a hug.

“Mc! You came to greet me! You’re just the best.” He took his sunglasses off and hugged you back ferociously.

“How was your trip?” You didn’t want to let go, but you had to. You wordlessly took one of his bags from him and followed him back to his room.

“It was so much fun! I think you would’ve really enjoyed it. Next time, you have to come. We can share a room <3.” You were glad to have him back.

“Glad to hear you had fun. I missed you.” You set his bag down on the floor.

“I missed you too, my sweetie pookie bear.” You started to laugh at that ridiculous nickname. Soon, both of you were laughing. You hugged him again, jovial to have him back.

While he was hugging you, Asmo came to the realization that you were wearing his clothes. “Is that my shirt? I see you took a stroll through my closet. It looks cute on you.” He would recognize that material anywhere.

“Oh, I hope you don’t mind. I put it on because I missed you. It reminded me of you.” You suddenly felt shy and couldn’t meet his eyes. He squealed.

“Ah, you’re so cute it hurts!” He squeezed you, only causing you to grow more sheepish. “I actually got that the first time I spent a night in the human world and needed something to wear. I could’ve just worn something of Solomon’s, but I didn’t feel like we were close enough for that yet. I kept it for the memories, but it seems as if I’m making more with my other favorite human.” He winked at you.

"I’m honored I’ve earned such a title.” You couldn’t deny how elated spending time with him made you. Just being around him was an automatic mood booster for you. You were delighted to hear that he felt the same.

“I have a little unpacking to do, so if you’re up for it, I can tell you all about my trip while I do. But after that, I need you all to myself for the evening. We can get your favorite for dinner.” He pinched your cheeks.

“I can’t say no to you. Tell away.” You perched yourself on the edge of his bed. As he began talking, you listened carefully. He told you everything animatedly, and you couldn’t help but admire how gorgeous he was. You looked forward to your evening with him, and were happy you missed each other equally.

[maximotts]

𝑑𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑚𝑒 ⁘ 𝑤. 𝑚𝑎𝑥𝑖𝑚𝑜𝑓𝑓

a/n: I like Women In Mouth okay that's all, I think. This is yet another self-indulgent drabble turned full fic and I decided I wanted to post it so here ya go. I've had this AU for a while, but it doesn't have a name so.. suggestions welcome if you have any!

80s milf!Wanda AU. masterlist. 18+ only please. wc: 3k cw: mentions of edging and orgasm denial, soft dom!Wanda, perv neighbor!reader, imagined dubcon? [everything is consensual], mommy kink abound, Wanda's v vocal during sex, oral, finger sucking, overstim, face sitting, brief breast play, clothed sex for reader

One thing about Wanda, it wasn't enough to just feel good; she needed to feel euphoric.

"I'm so close, baby! So, so... ah-!" It was her second orgasm of the afternoon, sprawled out over her large mattress as she bucked against your face, wiggling and moaning with reckless abandon. It was torture to be good, to keep your hands curled around her soft thighs where Wanda placed them, but you knew it was all your fault. With all the alone time you'd had, teasing Wanda and drawing out her orgasms didn't seem like such a bad idea, especially after all she asked for was you laid between her legs.

But then you’d edged her time and time again, bringing her so close just to pull away with a smirk Wanda eventually had to slap off your face. She didn't think it was nearly as funny as you did, no matter how precious you looked with her arousal smeared across your flushed cheeks. Now why did you want to be so reckless with mommy, sweetheart? You don't get to be in charge when you refuse to behave.

You'd gone from being allowed free reign to a mere tool for her pleasure, but still you couldn't complain. Not when Wanda still lets you suck on her clit or flick it against the tip of your tongue. "Please can I taste this time, mommy? I'll be good!"

Words slurred and muffled, Wanda barely realized you were talking to her until you were tapping at her thighs for her attention, the signal you insisted on setting once she started asking for more precarious activities. Typically, she was more than willing to be patient with you, but today's stress made her insatiable and she needed you to behave and comply. 

"Fine, fine just stop talking!" Frantic hands buried themselves in your hair, tugging you impossibly closer as she cums after what feels like forever but couldn't be more than a few minutes. Somehow you wriggled your way down to her entrance, lapping all you could before sticking your tongue into her hole, working your tongue in and out while Wanda devolved into a series of pants. 

For a while the world melted away, the sensations of Wanda on your face, in your mouth, and wrapped around your ears making everything else seem inconsequential. You couldn't breathe, but you'd die happy under this goddess of a woman. But then her feet were digging into your sides and it was your turn to tune into her. 

"Too sensitive, fuck you have to stop-" The brunette's words weren't matching her actions, her grip keeping you pressed right against her, dragging you up until you got the hint to latch onto her swollen bud. The moment you did, Wanda's pleas only grew louder, the desperate chants to please stop, please honey! Please it's too much confusing you as she rut against your mouth with reckless abandon. 

You couldn't get away if you tried; each time you did, Wanda's legs wound tighter around your neck, forcing you to fulfill the latest fantasy she'd sprouted. One where you were eager and greedy and ever for her and everything about her, too single-minded to give a thought to what she could handle. It wasn't too far from reality; you already had those exact feelings for her, but you reveled in being shy; a trait she found equally endearing and frustrating. 

Wanda wanted you to let loose, needed it even. This was all an experiment for her post-divorce; she longed to be wild and free how she was denied to be so long and she was sure you'd indulge her, given how she'd caught you staring at her long before she spoke to you, but damn if you weren't intent on keeping that part of yourself away from her. So far. 

"You're gonna make me cum again, I can't, it's too much!" Confusion aside, Wanda in pure bliss was something you never wanted to miss. From the first time you caught her through her guest room window while watering her rose bushes to today, watching her fall apart in the same bed, but with you much closer, she was a sight to behold.

She let you go this time, neck feeling the strain as soon as you were allowed to move it on your own again. Wanda's legs draped heavily over your shoulders still, but you'd deal with that ache later as it came, unwilling to forfeit her lingering warmth. "I'm sorry if I hurt you... I was trying to pull away, but you were holding me so tight—"

"Turn over." Wanda cut you off before you could finish your dazed apology, nudging your shoulders to help flip you onto your back. You were sure she just wanted distance, until her thighs returned to your shoulders and Wanda hovered above you much too gracefully for a woman who just had three orgasms back to back.

You swore you had a question to ask her, but your thoughts rushed away as you followed her hand trail down her naked abdomen to her deep pink pussy, two manicured fingernails disappearing as she sunk them into her oversensitive entrance. She let out a soft hiss while she fingered herself, holding your attention when they drew out and made their way to rest on your quivering lips. "Open your mouth, honey. Mommy has something she wants to talk to you about."

No convincing needed, you opened up quickly, dutifully licking her arousal from warm fingers, but subtlety isn't what she was after. Pushing forward, her fingers bottomed out at the back of your throat and she was ever so pleased when you didn't gag. "I think you're lovely, really I do, but you're holding back on me, aren't you?"

A garbled 'nuh uh' was the most you could manage, mouth too full and brain too fuzzy. "Yuh huh," Wanda mocked, stroking your tongue painfully slowly, "I've seen how you watch me for a long time, how you brush against my breasts and ass 'accidentally'... I've even noticed a few pairs of my favorite underwear missing from my drawers always suspiciously after you babysit."

"I'm not stupid, I figured out you're a dirty little pervert the day I spied you stumbling away from my window." Your cheeks were so hot they felt like they'd melt off, Wanda grinning down at you like she'd caught a criminal. As humiliating as it was to be caught and cornered, her call out turned you on terribly; thankfully, she was sitting far enough up your body to miss how tightly you had your thighs clenched together. 

Wanda saw your embarrassment and laughed, petting your hair with her free hand. "Don't feel bad, darling. Your sneaking around is exactly why I let you into my bed in the first place. I want to see how intensely you feel about me firsthand; tell me how much you think about me, show me how badly you want to get your hands on me, all of it." 

"Unless," the brunette put on a show of a pout, insecurities peeking through for the briefest of seconds. "I don't live up to what you imagined? Is that why you keep hesitating?"

Your eyes went wide at Wanda's last comment, shaking your head so feverishly her fingers fell from your mouth. "No no, not at all! You're so pretty I don't know what to do with myself!" Desperate hands pawed at her hips and backside, anywhere you could reach to reassure her. "I don't want you to be too much for you is all."

"Be too much for me, I dare you." You nodded, agreeing to her challenge easily. If Wanda was on board for more, you had more than enough ideas to last a lifetime. "Good girl, now let's practice. What exactly did you do with my stolen undergarments?"

"I, um," Wanda stared down at you with so much curiosity; clearly she wanted a real answer... so you'd give her one. "I thought they looked pretty and soft so I took them home."

"And did what with them?"

"Wanda—"

"I know this is new, but you know my name, sweet thing. Tell me what you did with them." She was sitting low enough to feel her wet heat above your ribs, tantalizing warmth reminding you all too well of what you'd imagined that night after you darted out of her bedroom. "Now, baby. I don't have all day."

"I just wanted you so bad, mommy," It started as a moment of desperation, really. After an afternoon facing Wanda in shorts and a near see through shirt as you worked side by side in the yard, you were dangerously overheated and it wasn't from the summer heatwave. 

When she let you freshen up in her bathroom, you rationalized Wanda wouldn't miss one singular pair, but one turned to two and with your third last night, she must've put the pieces together. "When I got ready for bed, I took it out of my pocket and I couldn't help myself! I was only going to use them a little, but they felt so nice and then I started thinking about what they'd look like on you and how you never let me take yours off and how much I just want to touch you."

The truth was tumbling out faster than you could keep up, your embarrassment rising as Wanda's pupils dilated, eyes lidded as she listened to your dirty deeds. The only reason you kept going was how obvious it was riling her up all over again, "You stopped me earlier, but that's all I want to do with you! Just play and figure out what makes you feel best so I can do it over and over again. When I came, all I could think of was you doing it with me, having you in my mouth while fucked myself silly."

Wanda's legs were already trembling, but they worked long enough to settle above onto your face, silencing any further confessions. "Stick your tongue out, sweet pea, I'll show you exactly what makes me feel best."

She had minimal knowledge of the receiving end of oral, the majority of her hands-on experience coming from you and what she'd heard from friends. But Wanda thought about it often for years, bringing herself to orgasm countless times grinding against her pillow and wishing it was some pretty girl's face; now that she had you, she'd be a fool not to use the gorgeous face right in front of her. 

Still sensitive from earlier, as much as she wanted to make it last, she knew she couldn't. Still, Wanda wouldn't let it stop her from quelling the heavy pit she'd grown in her stomach after listening to you speak. Clit cautiously grazing over the rough surface of your tongue, Wanda sighed, once again using the top of your head for support as she started to grind deliberately, "Who knew I had such a naughty girl for a neighbor, stealing my clothes just to go home and dirty them all up..."

"Is that what you really want to do? Get mommy all dirty and messy? Keep me like a needy housewife you can get off to everyday?" You agreed as much as you could, wanting nothing more than to use her like she was describing so crudely.

As she spoke, one of your hands snuck into your shorts, shaky fingers running over your neglected folds. It wasn't that you didn't want her to know what you were doing literally behind her back, but you didn't want her to stop you either. You tried to keep quiet and it was working well until you processed her wetness dripping down your chin and you moaned, the vibrations turning her attention to just what you were up to. "Oh you perverted little thing, you really can't help yourself, can you?"

But Wanda's condescension was only surface level; seeing you masturbate to her was even more powerful than hearing about it. She wanted to be loved, adored, lusted after, worshiped even, if she was completely honest with herself, and you would give it to her. Turns out all you needed was a little push. "Go on, show me how you touch yourself when you miss me."

Her validation spurring you on, you finally began purposefully working yourself up in hopes of finishing together, but Wanda beat you to it. Playing with her own nipples sent her over and she came in a long stuttered groan, hips having long lost their rhythm. 

She was thoroughly spent, but your free arm held her in place just as she did with your head and suddenly Wanda was trapped to endure a barrage of kisses to the sore spot between her legs. "I need to sit, honey. I can't do anymore..."

"Not yet, wanna cum like this." If Wanda wanted you to use her, you would, forcing her to remain still while you took your turn with your own fantasy. You rolled your fingertips over your swollen bud in time with your tongue on hers, ignoring her cries and pushes at your shoulders. Even though it'd be your first, your orgasm wasn't far off, having held off all afternoon in favor of prioritizing the older woman's pleasure. 

"You can't, baby no please don't-" Your lips sucked her in and Wanda's cries weren't fake anymore, the overstimulation quickly bordering on pain. Just before it did, you let up, opting to put your tongue inside her once more, teasing her slick walls while you pumped two fingers into your own cunt; the mirror image of what you'd dreamt up mere nights ago alone. 

"Feels so good, too good.." Wanda grunted as your tongue pushed deep, filling her with such a unique sensation she was almost scared she'd pass out. She hated herself for stopping you doing this earlier, having been too impatient to think of anything but how badly she needed release; next time she'd remember how positively perfect it felt to lazily rock her hips while you thrusted in and out and trust you to do as she pleased. "Please cum for mommy, sweetheart! It's gonna hurt soon, please please, 'need you to cum for me—"

"'m so close.. do it with me, just one more time, please-!" A few curls of your fingers had you falling apart, squirming under Wanda as you whimpered against her fluffy sheets. Vaguely you could hear your lover's melody of noises and when you finally dropped your arm, she fell backwards, landing on her mattress with a definitive flop. 

The only sounds in the room were from the two of you slowly catching your breaths, Wanda's hands folding over her stomach as a series of dull cramps swept over her. "I suppose I told you to be too much so I can't scold you for that," Wanda weakly swatted your thigh, propping up on her elbows just in time to catch you moving to wiggle out of your shorts. "Ah ah, what do you think you're doing?"

She stops you in your tracks, elastic waistband snapping back on your hips. "Taking these off? They're sticky..."

"Aw, my poor little love, did you get yourself all messy?" Shyness back now, your head barely budged as Wanda sat up and stretched; but your eyes never left her full chest... and Wanda noticed. "If you keep staring, I bet you'll ruin any new ones I give you and that'd just be a waste."

Upsetting as it was, you knew better than to argue with her after you'd put her in such a blissful mood. "I know, I'm sorry, mama." It was a term you had yet to say aloud, but the admonishment you feared never came. Wanda only crawled her way up to recline against the headboard, beckoning you to lay across your lap which you did readily. "Can you take my shorts off at least?" 

"Only because you did such a good job today. Lift up," Wanda guided the cotton shorts down until you could kick them off yourself, freedom from the thick fabric making you a little less uncomfortable. Still, the remaining ruined fabric felt heavy on your upper thighs, the feeling worsening each second you rested so close to Wanda's bare breasts. It was so hard to keep your cool when she was right there and your brain kept churning. "You just never stop, aren't you tired?"

You shrugged, kissing along her rib cage as she gently cradled your head with one arm, humming contentedly when you felt her fingernails stroking over your hips and thighs, "It takes a bit more for me to be tired, I think."

Wanda kept quiet, wondering how she could possibly keep you in her bed longer. A slip of her fingers over your clothed sex gave her just the idea she needed. One slow nudge of her nipple brushing your lips was all it took to encourage you to take it, licking the bud to its peak with ease; she'd picked a girl with a talented mouth who loved to use it. 

Temporarily distracted, you didn't notice Wanda's hands slipping under your panties until she was spreading your folds, her touch as loving as it was teasing. "Since you're wide awake, tell me all about these thoughts you've been having about me, honey. Answer my questions well and I'll tire you right out."

[kinardsevan]

30 days of fluff challenge: day fifteen

(yeah I took yesterday off. July has 31 days lol)

"buying each other a book"

Evan bounces on his heels in front of Tommy as he holds the bag in his hands. They’d gone on a bookstore date (at two different stores because there was no way Evan would’ve refrained from cheating if they hadn’t) and now that they were back home, he didn’t know what he was more excited for: what Tommy was going to give him, or what he had picked out for Tommy.

For him, it had been a process. He knew Tommy liked machinery, but buying a book about car engines or helicopters felt too easy. It also felt too easy to go into the romance section and find something that would feed his interests in romantic comedies. So instead, Evan had found himself in the poetry section, flipping through books until he found one that he felt met the same ideals that he could relate to. After all, it was supposed to be a gift, right? Something that told Tommy that he was thinking about him? 

“You really can’t hold on to gifts for even a second, can you,” Tommy teases as he settles his bag on the table. 

Evan shakes his head, completely unabashed with the smile on his face. “Not with you,” he mutters back. 

Tommy tilts his head at him, a fond smile crossing his face before he leans across the space and kisses Evan softly. Evan sighs into it, lifts his free hand to Tommy’s shoulder, holding him close for a moment before they part back into their spaces. 

“Okay, well me first,” Tommy says when he’s managed to reign his thoughts back in. He nudges his bag forward on the table. “I, uh, I wasn’t sure what to get, but I found this and thought you might be interested.” 

Evan settles his own bag on the table and reaches for Tommy’s, pulling the stuffed tissue paper out. He pulls the book out afterwards, flipping it over and gazing at the summary. 

“I know you like reading about self-help and relationships,” Tommy says nervously. 

Evan shakes his head, looking back up at him a moment later with a smile still on his face. “No, this looks good. I want to read it.” 

Tommy nods then, albeit a bit nervously. 

Evan sets the book down after a moment of flipping through it, and reaches for the bag he brought. He presents it to Tommy like an offering. 

“I went a little off-script,” he admits, watching nervously as his boyfriend takes the bag and peers inside of it. After a tick, he reaches into the bag and pulls the book out, looking at the cover. It’s black and white with a line drawing on it, clearly not giving much more in the way of what the book is about. 

“I got a bookmark,” Evan says, gesturing the one sticking out of the book. “Marked what made me think of you.” 

Tommy glances up at him briefly, and then back down, opening the book up to where the bookmark is placed. As his eyes skim the first line, his free hand reaches for Evan’s, holding his fingers as he starts to read it out loud. 

“I never wanted to be your first choice being your first choice implies that there is a second choice I wanted to be your only choice

for once I wanted someone to be so sure of me  that everything else disappears” 

Tommy’s eyes keep skimming the words on the page, completely enamored by the level of thought put into the gift. 

“I saw that and I ju-, I…I don’t know. I related to it,” Evan tells him softly, nervously. “It made me think about all of our pillow talk. All the conversations in the dark and late night confessions, and I just…I-I felt like that was someone else finding a way to say it, in black and white, in a way that I could give to you.” 

Tommy nods wordlessly, finally closing the book a moment later as he looks up at Evan again. He doesn’t speak, and the nerves it leaves Evan with are exploding inside of him as he stands there, waiting. But then Tommy brings his free hand to Evan’s face, fingers curled around the back of his neck as he steps into the space between them once more and kisses him, open-mouthed and fully. Evan’s hand finds Tommy’s wrist, holding on tightly as he leans into him, presses his body flush against Tommy’s. 

When they finally break apart, Evan is breathless. He stares at Tommy with that same deer-in-headlights half-smlie, completely taken by the moment. 

Tommy shakes the book lightly in his hand, glancing down at it and then back up at Evan.

“This is everything,” he rasps, giving small nods. He drops another chaste kiss on Evan’s lips quickly before enveloping him in a warm, tight hug. “Thank you.” 

(Tommy's purchase for Evan was To Be Loved by Frank Anderson. I've never read it, but it feels like they would both enjoy it, based on the summary. Evan's purchase for Tommy is Whitney Hanson's Climate book of poetry.)

[rootedinrevisions]

Let's Find Out Together

SUMMARY: After a painful breakup, you turn to Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, your longtime friend, for support. But as he steps in to help you heal, he reveals that he’s been harboring feelings for you all along. What starts as a comforting distraction quickly turns into an intense, unexpected connection that blurs the line between friendship and something more. Now, as the sparks fly, you're left questioning everything you thought you knew about love, friendship, and passion.

A/N: Thank you to the Anon who sent this request in! this was a fun one to write! I hope you enjoy it!

PROMPT: "What do you like?" "I don't know." "Well, then how about we find out together?"

WARNINGS/TAGS: 18+ Minors DNI. Smut. (Biting, Marking, Oral Female Receiving)

WORD COUNT: 4.7k

TAG LIST: IN COMMENTS

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! Below are the fandoms I currently write for.

Glen Powell: Himself (RPF), Characters He's Played

Twisters: Tyler Owens, Boone, Scott, Javi

Top Gun: Maverick: Rooster, Hangman, Bob

Marvel/MCU: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers

WWE/Wrestling: Cody Rhodes, Corey Graves, Damian Priest, Drew McIntyre, Finn Balor, Jimmy Uso, Jey Uso, Kevin Owens, L.A. Knight, Pat McAfee, Roman Reigns, Seth Rollins (if there is someone you're thinking of from WWE and they aren't on the list feel free to ask! There are so many guys on the roster that these were the ones that came to mind.)

The Hard Deck was alive with its usual buzz—boots scuffed against the wooden floors, laughter echoed from the pool table, and the jukebox played a classic rock song that you barely registered. You sat at the bar, staring down into the bottom of your glass like it might hold the answers to every question rattling around in your head.

“Hey,” came a familiar voice from behind you.

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw slid onto the stool beside you, his presence like a balm for your frayed nerves. His aviators hung from the neckline of his shirt, and his easy smile faded the moment he got a good look at your face.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his tone softer now, concerned.

You tried to muster a reassuring smile but knew it fell flat. “Nothing. Just… a long day.”

He wasn’t buying it. Bradley had known you long enough to spot when something was bothering you. His brow furrowed as he leaned in closer, his voice low. “Come on. It’s me. What’s going on?”

You hesitated, your fingers tracing the rim of your glass. Then, with a quiet sigh, you admitted, “I broke up with Derek.”

Bradley’s expression flickered—something unreadable passed over his face, a mix of surprise and something else you couldn’t quite place. He took a moment, then asked, “What happened?”

You swallowed, the words feeling heavier than they should. “I caught him cheating on me.”

Bradley’s hand clenched around his beer bottle, his jaw tightening. “That asshole,” he muttered under his breath, then louder, “He can go screw himself.”

You snorted at his bluntness, a small laugh escaping despite yourself. Bradley’s intensity softened as he looked back at you.

“I’m serious,” he said, his tone gentler now. “You deserve better than that. Better than him.”

“Yeah, right,” you replied with a hollow laugh. “Good guys aren’t as common as they used to be.”

Bradley shrugged casually, but his lips twitched into a small smile. “I think I’m a pretty good guy.”

You blinked, caught off guard, then smiled at him. “Yeah, you are. One of the best, actually.”

He leaned forward, his forearms resting on the bar. “Then let me take you on a date.”

You stared at him, momentarily stunned. “Bradley…”

His brown eyes held yours, steady and earnest. “I mean it. Let me take you out.”

“You don’t mean it,” you said, shaking your head, though your pulse quickened at the thought.

“I do,” he countered, his voice unwavering. “I’ve liked you for a while. But you were with Derek, and I wasn’t going to get in the way of that. Now that you’re not…” He trailed off, his gaze softening. “I just want to show you how you should’ve been treated all along.”

Your heart twisted at the sincerity in his voice. For a moment, you couldn’t speak, couldn’t process how Bradley—your steady, dependable Bradley—was suddenly baring his feelings to you like this.

“I don’t know what to say,” you admitted quietly.

“Say yes,” he said simply.

Your lips curved into a small, hesitant smile. 

“Okay,” you said, the word slipping out before you could second-guess yourself.

His face lit up, and he reached out, brushing his fingers lightly against yours where they rested on the bar. The touch was tentative, warm, and for the first time that night, you felt the weight on your chest ease just a little.

“Let me take you home,” he said. “You’ve had enough of this place for one night.”

You nodded, letting him help you off the stool. As he led you toward the door, his hand resting lightly on the small of your back, you couldn’t help but wonder if this was the start of something you’d been too blind to see before.

The drive back to your place was quiet at first, the soft hum of the engine filling the space as you leaned back in your seat, watching the lights of the town blur past. Bradley’s hand rested casually on the gearshift, his fingers drumming lightly against it in time with the song playing low on the radio.

“So,” you said, breaking the silence, a small smirk tugging at the corner of your lips, “is this you taking me home and tucking me in? Or is this you taking me home?”

Beside you, Bradley’s lips twitched into a grin, though he kept his eyes on the road. “Depends,” he said smoothly, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. “What do you want it to be?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re impossible.”

“Hey, you’re the one who asked.” His tone was light, teasing, but there was an undercurrent of something more—something that made your stomach flip.

“Just so you know,” you said, folding your arms across your chest in mock indignation, “you’re terrible at tucking people in. I seem to remember you leaving me to sleep on a couch last New Year’s while you stole my blanket.”

Bradley laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “First of all, that blanket was fair game. Second, you’re the one who insisted on watching that terrible rom-com marathon. I was being a good friend by suffering through it.”

You shot him a playful glare. “Suffering? You cried during The Notebook.”

“I did not.”

“You absolutely did.”

He sighed dramatically, shaking his head. “Fine. Maybe I got something in my eye. A guy can be moved by powerful cinema without crying, you know.”

“Sure, Brad,” you said, unable to keep the smile off your face.

The banter continued, easy and familiar, until he pulled up outside your place. He shifted the car into park but didn’t immediately move to unbuckle his seatbelt. Instead, he turned to you, his expression softening as his eyes searched yours.

“Seriously, though,” he said, his voice low, “it’s up to you. I meant what I said back there. I’m not in a rush. I just want to be here for you.”

Your smile faded into something gentler as the weight of his words settled over you. “I know, Bradley. And… I appreciate it.”

For a moment, neither of you moved, the air in the car thick with something unspoken. Then you reached for the door handle, breaking the spell.

“You coming in, or are you going to sleep in the car?” you asked, your tone teasing but your heart pounding.

Bradley grinned, unbuckling his seatbelt. “You know I’m not letting you go in there without company.”

You reached your front door, fishing your keys out of your bag, the cool night air brushing against your skin. Bradley trailed behind you, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his presence. As you tried to slot the key into the lock, your hands trembled—whether from the chill or the way your heart was racing, you weren’t sure.

Before you could get the door open, you felt him. Bradley’s hands slid gently around your waist, his touch tentative at first, as though giving you the chance to pull away. When you didn’t, he pulled you closer, his chest pressing against your back.

“Bradley…” you started, your voice barely above a whisper.

His only response was to lean down, his lips brushing softly against the curve of your neck. The first kiss was light, testing, a feather-soft touch that sent a shiver down your spine. The second lingered longer, his warm breath fanning over your skin as he pressed his mouth to the sensitive spot just below your ear.

“Is this okay?” he murmured, his voice low and husky against your neck.

You closed your eyes, tilting your head slightly to give him better access. “Yeah,” you hummed, the word barely audible.

You swore you felt him smile against your skin before he continued, his kisses growing bolder, more insistent. His lips trailed down the side of your neck, tracing a path toward your shoulder. His hands splayed across your stomach, anchoring you to him as his mouth moved lower.

Every kiss sent a wave of warmth through you, the world outside your little bubble fading away.

“Bradley…” His name slipped from your lips, half a sigh, half a plea, though you weren’t even sure what you were asking for.

He hummed in response, his lips still trailing over your skin. His touch wasn’t rushed or desperate—it was deliberate, reverent, as though he’d been waiting for this moment for longer than he cared to admit.

You turned your head slightly, trying to catch his gaze, but he paused, his lips brushing against your shoulder as he spoke. “Tell me if you want me to stop,” he said softly.

You didn’t answer with words. Instead, you turned fully in his arms, your hands sliding up to rest on his chest. His brown eyes searched yours, and whatever he saw there must have been enough, because his lips were on yours a moment later, warm and sure, pulling you even closer.

Bradley’s lips never left yours as his hands moved down your back, his fingers grazing over the curve of your hips before gripping your thighs. With an effortless motion, he lifted you, and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, your arms looping around his neck for support.

Your breath hitched as he adjusted his hold, steady and sure, like he’d done this a hundred times in his mind. The strength in his arms sent a shiver through you, and for a fleeting moment, you wondered how he managed to make it all look so seamless.

Still cradling you securely, Bradley leaned back just enough to reach behind you, pushing your door open with one hand. The kiss never faltered, his lips still moving against yours in a way that made your head spin. The door swung open, and he stepped inside, his boots echoing softly against the hardwood.

With a swift motion, he kicked the door shut behind him, the solid thunk of it closing grounding you in the moment. Then he turned, pressing your back gently against the wall, his body pinning yours in place.

Your fingers threaded through his hair, tugging lightly as his lips traveled down, brushing over your jawline and back to your mouth. The intensity of his kiss deepened as his tongue slipped past your lips, teasing, exploring, drawing a soft moan from your throat that you couldn’t hold back.

Bradley’s hands slid down your sides, his touch leaving trails of heat in its wake. When they settled on your waist, his thumbs stroked slow, deliberate circles against your skin through the thin fabric of your shirt. The way he held you—firm but gentle, steady but utterly consuming—made your pulse race.

Every movement, every touch, felt purposeful, like he was trying to show you with his hands and mouth everything he hadn’t yet said out loud.

“Bradley,” you murmured against his lips, your voice breathless and shaky.

“Hmm?” he hummed, his lips brushing yours as he paused just long enough to look at you, his brown eyes dark and full of something that made your stomach flutter.

You couldn’t form the words, but he didn’t seem to need them. Instead, he dipped his head again, capturing your lips in another searing kiss that left no room for doubt about how he felt—or how much he wanted you.

Bradley pulled back just enough to break the kiss, his lips hovering near yours as his warm breath brushed your skin. His hands still rested on your waist, his fingers pressing lightly into your sides as his eyes searched yours with a mixture of mischief and heat.

“So,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing, “do you still want me to just tuck you in?”

The question made your pulse quicken, but instead of faltering, a surge of boldness rose within you. Your fingers tightened in his hair, tugging his head back gently but firmly, exposing the strong line of his throat. His lips parted slightly, and a low groan rumbled in his chest, the sound sending a shiver through you.

You leaned in close, your lips brushing the edge of his jaw as you whispered, “I want you, Bradley.”

His reaction was immediate. His hands tightened on your hips, pulling you closer against him as his eyes darkened with an intensity that made your breath catch. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear that,” he muttered, his voice rough and full of unspoken desire.

Without another word, he shifted you in his arms with ease, his hold on you unwavering as he stepped back from the wall. Your legs tightened instinctively around his waist, your fingers still tangled in his hair as he turned and started down the hallway.

The journey to your bedroom felt electric, every step punctuated by the tension between you. Bradley’s grip on you was sure and steady, his strength making you feel both weightless and completely grounded.

As he reached the door to your room, he paused, glancing at you with a small, almost cocky smirk. “Last chance to back out,” he teased, though his voice held a note of seriousness beneath the playfulness.

Your response was simple: you leaned forward and kissed him, pouring every ounce of your pent-up feelings into it. That was all the answer he needed.

With a quiet chuckle, he carried you over the threshold, his lips finding yours again as he stepped inside and nudged the door closed behind him with his foot.

Bradley walked you over to the bed, his movements careful and deliberate, as though he wanted to savor every second. Gently, he lowered you onto the soft mattress, his hands lingering on your hips for a moment before he leaned over you. The room felt still, save for the quiet rustle of sheets beneath you and the sound of your own uneven breathing.

He braced himself on one arm, his other hand brushing a strand of hair from your face as his lips met yours again. The kiss deepened, slow and unhurried, as if he had all the time in the world. Then his mouth began to travel, leaving a trail of kisses along your jaw and back down to your neck.

Between kisses, his voice came out low and teasing. “What do you like?”

The question caught you off guard, and you froze for a moment, your mind blanking under the weight of it. “I don’t know,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Bradley stilled, his lips hovering just above your collarbone. He pulled back slightly to look at you, his brows furrowing in confusion. For a moment, he seemed to hesitate, as if he wasn’t sure he’d heard you correctly.

“You’ve... you’ve done this before, right?” he asked, his voice tinged with an awkward uncertainty.

A laugh bubbled out of you, breaking the tension. “Yes, I’ve slept with people before,” you said, your tone light and reassuring. “It’s just... all the guys I’ve been with only ever did missionary.”

His expression shifted instantly. First, his eyes widened in disbelief, and for a split second, you thought he might be about to argue. But then his lips curled into a slow, confident smirk, the kind that made your pulse race.

“Missionary,” he repeated, the word almost incredulous. “That’s it?”

You shrugged, a mix of embarrassment and amusement bubbling in your chest.

Bradley leaned in closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he spoke, his voice a low, teasing murmur. “Well, then... how about we find out together?”

Before you could respond, his lips captured yours again, and his hands began to explore, sliding over your sides and down to your thighs.

Bradley’s fingers moved to the hem of your shirt, his dark eyes flicking up to meet yours. “Is this okay?” he asked softly, his voice steady but laced with anticipation.

You nodded, swallowing hard. “Yeah.”

With deliberate care, he pulled your shirt over your head and tossed it aside, his hands brushing against your skin as he did. The warmth of his touch lingered, sending a shiver down your spine. His gaze didn’t waver as it roamed over you, and the look in his eyes made you feel more seen—and more desired—than you ever had before.

“You’re gorgeous,” he murmured, his voice reverent but with an edge of heat that made your cheeks flush. His hands moved to the waistband of your jeans next, his thumbs hooking into the fabric as he paused to look at you again. “Still okay?”

You nodded again, your voice catching in your throat.

He made quick work of the button and zipper, easing the denim down your legs and leaving you in nothing but your bra and underwear. He straightened, his gaze sweeping over you as you lay back against the pillows.

“God,” he breathed, shaking his head slightly. “You’re so beautiful. No... you’re sexy.”

The compliment hit you like a spark, and for a moment, you wondered why you had never let yourself see Bradley like this before. He wasn’t just your dependable, loyal friend. He was this—sweet, confident, and undeniably attractive.

He knelt back down, his hands gently trailing up your thighs as he leaned in. “You tell me if there’s anything you don’t like,” he reminded you, his voice soft but firm.

“I will,” you whispered, your heart pounding in your chest.

His lips found your neck again, pressing gentle, lingering kisses against your skin. Then you felt his teeth graze your neck—a new sensation, one that sent a jolt through you. Before you could process it, he bit down gently, and you gasped, the sound escaping you unbidden.

You felt his lips curve into a smile against your skin. “You like that?” he murmured, his voice low and teasing. “Do you want me to do it again? Do you want me to mark you?”

You nodded quickly, your breath hitching. “Yes. I want to be yours.”

The words barely left your lips before he leaned in again, his teeth sinking into your neck just enough to sting, followed by the soothing press of his mouth as he sucked on the tender skin. The sensation was unlike anything you’d felt before—electric, heady, and intimate. When he pulled away, you could feel the heat of his gaze as he admired the dark mark he’d left.

Bradley smirked, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face as he leaned in to kiss you. “Can’t wait to see what you look like with those all over,” he whispered, his tone filled with a promise that made your pulse race.

You couldn’t help but smirk back at him, a boldness blooming in your chest. “Where else do you want to put one?”

His eyes darkened with a mix of mischief and intent, and his smirk widened. Without another word, he lowered his head, his lips trailing along your collarbones before dipping lower, stopping just above your breasts.

He paused for a moment, looking up at you as if to ask for permission. You gave him a small nod, and he bit down again, his mouth working to leave another mark, this time on the skin between your breasts.

The sensation sent another wave of heat coursing through you, and when he pulled back, his expression was pure satisfaction as he admired his work. 

“Perfect,” he murmured, his voice rough.

Bradley's hands slid up your sides, his thumbs grazing the edge of your bra. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, silently asking for permission. When you gave him a slight nod, he reached behind you with practiced ease, unhooking the clasp and gently sliding the straps down your shoulders.

The garment fell away, and for a moment, he just looked at you, his gaze filled with reverence and hunger that made your skin flush.

One of his hands moved to cup your breast, his palm warm against your skin as his fingers squeezed gently, exploring. The sensation was new, different, and surprisingly intoxicating. You couldn’t help the soft sigh that escaped your lips as he leaned down, his breath ghosting over your skin before his lips wrapped around one of your nipples.

The feeling sent a jolt of electricity through you. No one had ever paid much attention to your chest before; past partners had always been more focused elsewhere, making offhand comments about your body that left you feeling unbalanced. But this—Bradley’s touch, his mouth—was deliberate and consuming as if he couldn’t get enough of you.

Then you felt his teeth, a brief, unexpected pressure that made you gasp, your back arching as you unconsciously pushed your chest further into his mouth.

Bradley hummed against you, his lips curving into a smirk as he flicked his tongue over the sensitive skin to soothe it. 

“You like that,” he murmured, not as a question but a quiet declaration.

Your breath hitched, and you nodded, your voice too tangled in the haze of sensation to respond properly.

He didn’t wait for words. He pulled away, his lips leaving a trail of warmth as he shifted to your other breast. His hand replaced his mouth, rolling the sensitive bud between his fingers while his lips found their target. This time, he didn’t hesitate, biting down gently but firmly, drawing another involuntary gasp from you.

The sound made something flicker in his eyes—satisfaction, excitement, and a hint of possessiveness. His tongue swept over the spot he’d bitten, his mouth working with a combination of suction and teasing flicks that had your fingers digging into his shoulders.

Bradley pulled back slightly, his breath warm against your skin as he looked up at you. “I love hearing those sounds you make,” he said softly, his voice a rough whisper that sent a shiver through you. His hands slid down to rest on your waist again, grounding you as his lips brushed a gentle kiss against the curve of your breast. “I’ve got so much more I want to show you.”

Bradley’s eyes never left yours as he slowly made his way down your body, his lips brushing over your skin with a slow, deliberate pace. His hands were gentle but firm, guiding you closer to the edge of something new and thrilling. When he finally positioned himself between your legs, his gaze flickered up to meet yours once more.

He smiled, a look of both excitement and admiration in his eyes. “I can’t wait to hear the sounds you make when I do thi,” he said, his voice low and husky. The weight of his words settled heavily between you, making your heart race.

You swallowed, your breath hitching slightly as he traced his fingers along your thighs, his touch light and teasing. His lips followed, pressing a soft kiss to one thigh before moving to the other, a trail of warmth in his wake. Then, with a careful touch, he slid your panties down your legs and tossed them aside, leaving you feeling exposed, but strangely safe in his hands.

He looked at you, his eyes dark with desire, before lowering himself further. The air between you two was thick with anticipation. His hands gently caressed your hips, grounding you as his lips finally reached your center.

The moment his mouth made contact, your body jolted with the sensation, a sharp intake of breath escaping you as you arched into him, your hands gripping the sheets beneath you.

Bradley was slow, methodical, taking his time to explore and bring you closer to the edge. Every touch, every movement was carefully tuned to your reactions. He wasn’t just trying to make you feel good—he wanted to know what made you tick, to learn the rhythm of your body in a way no one else had before.

Bradley’s focus never wavered as he continued his work, taking his time to explore, making sure every movement was deliberate and sure. Each kiss, each touch, each gentle caress sent shivers through your body, and you couldn’t stop the quiet gasps that escaped your lips as you reacted to him.

He shifted slightly, and his movements grew more confident. His lips found that sweet spot, the one that made your breath catch, and when he applied a little more pressure, a moan slipped from you—louder than you’d intended, and unmistakably full of need.

You felt your cheeks flush with embarrassment, but then Bradley’s voice, low and full of approval, reached your ears.

“That’s it,” he murmured, his lips curling into a satisfied smile against your skin. “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.” He repeated the motion, coaxing another breathy moan from you. The sound was so raw, so genuine, it made him groan in return.

You couldn’t hold back anymore, your body arching further into him as the sensations built. “Bradley…” you moaned, almost too loudly, your eyes squeezing shut as a wave of heat coursed through you.

He growled in approval, the sound so deep that it sent a rush of excitement through your veins. “You sound so good, baby. Keep letting me know how you’re feeling.”

Your hands found their way into his hair, fingers threading through it, gripping him closer. The intensity in his gaze grew, and the way he praised you made you feel both empowered and desired in a way you’d never experienced before. You felt your body reacting to him, to his touch, to the way he made you feel so seen, so good.

Every movement he made, every sound you gave him, only fueled the connection between you two. This wasn’t just physical—it was raw, emotional, a dance of vulnerability and trust. And Bradley loved hearing you like this, loved knowing he was the one who could make you feel this way.

Every touch, every flick of his tongue, every deliberate movement made your entire body hum with need. You felt yourself coming undone, the sensations overwhelming as your breath hitched and your body responded to him.

Then, with one final, deliberate motion, Bradley pushed you over the edge. Your back arched as the release washed over you, your body trembling in waves of pleasure. A gasp escaped your lips, followed by a low moan, as the intensity of the moment left you breathless, unable to form words. It was the first time a guy had made you finish just with his mouth and hands, and it left you gasping, completely undone.

Bradley’s lips curled into a satisfied smile as he crawled back up the bed, his hands gently brushing the hair away from your face. His eyes were soft with affection, his gaze intense as he looked down at you, making sure you were okay. 

“You alright?” he asked, his voice hushed, a mix of concern and pride.

You nodded, still panting slightly, the aftermath of the orgasm leaving you weak but content. 

“Yeah,” you breathed, your voice unsteady. “I’m… I’ve never felt anything like that before.”

Bradley chuckled softly, his thumb brushing over your cheek as he leaned down to kiss you gently, a tender contrast to the intensity of the moments before. “I’m glad I could give that to you,” he said, his voice warm and full of sincerity.

You smiled up at him, feeling a mix of vulnerability and comfort, knowing that this moment was something you’d never forget. His presence, the way he made you feel, was unlike anything you’d ever experienced before.

Bradley settled beside you, keeping you close, his hand resting on your waist as he held you. Bradley’s hand gently traced patterns on your skin as he settled next to you, a teasing smile tugging at his lips. 

“So, what do you want to try next?” he asked, his voice low, a mix of curiosity and amusement.

You blinked up at him, feeling a newfound boldness. Without missing a beat, you shot him a playful smirk. “I want to ride you.”

The words hung in the air for a moment before Bradley’s eyes darkened, his breath hitching at the unexpectedness of your response. A grin spread across his face, his hands moving quickly as he pulled you on top of him, your bodies aligning with a hunger that was only growing. 

“Damn, baby,” he groaned, the thought of you in control sending heat shooting through his veins. 

You both shared a laugh, the playful tension still crackling in the air, before the moment turned more serious again. But this time, there was no question—the night was only just beginning.

[magic-is-beauty]

Sweet tooth headcannons (mostly bear and tiger because I have brainrot)

Both Bear and Tiger know how to sew like fairly well and have become the resident fixers for both the animal army and the hybrids. Tiger also knows how to embroider and one year for bear's birthday embroidered her denim vest that she wears through season 1.

The animal army usually shares clothing since they're all fairly the same sizes but they don't do it as often as Bear and Tiger do it. One day Bear will wear a piece of clothing and then the next day Tiger wears that same piece of clothing.

Bear and Tiger also share jewelry and are constantly trading pieces which makes the animal army laugh at their very obvious feelings for each other. Bear throughout the show wears this necklace that I swear I saw Tiger wear.

No one else in the animal army shares bedrooms except for Bear and Tiger. They say it's because of them being leader and co leader but the animal army knows it's because they sleep better when in the same room.

Bear is a bandana fiend like is obsessed with them and every time they raid the last men either Tiger or someone from the army will bring one back to her.

Bear is a starfish sleeper and Tiger is constantly rolling around in their sleep so most nights they end up either on top of each other or end up accidentally cuddling.

Bear is 100% a folk music girlie i don't make the rules

Bear is always the one to help Tiger with their hair (with dying or cutting) and Tiger tried a few times to help Bear with her hair but has given up and now helps from the sidelines.

A way to calm down Bear and Tiger after a nightmare is to play with their hair it instantly calms both of them down.

Bear loves forehead kisses and Tiger loves shoulder kisses

When watching stuff with animal army everyone has their own bumper car but Bear and Tiger are determined to sit in together which is quite amusing to the rest of the army ; It never works and they usually just pick two next to each other.

The animal army finds this whole situation between Bear and Tiger hilarious and constantly call them a old married couple.

When Bear left the animal army Tiger refused to get rid of anything Bear related and wasn't getting as good as sleep without Bear sleeping next to them.

After Tiger and some of the animal army got injured during the fight with Abbott, Bear wasn't sleeping and was determined to learn everything about cleaning up and taking care of wounds that serious so that she never had to see all her family almost die again.

A small amount of the animal army did end up surviving and most went back to the headquarters to continue their work but Tiger stayed with bear to help take care of the hybrids ; The animal army understood but gave them pleading looks which meant "please get your shit together and actually confess your feelings".

However instead of rescuing and releasing hybrids the army gave hybrids the choice to stay with the army,go to where the other hybrids were,or they helped the hybrids track down and reunite with family members.

It was a united decision with the army to release Daisy into the wild because of their awful treatment of her and she did leave at first but then years later came back which was quite a shock to them ; Daisy now has free reign and can leave and come back whenever she wants too.

Tiger and Bear picked up sign language fairly quickly and were able to communicate with the hybrids ; True to their word tiger taught a lot of the hybrids curse words which in turn stressed out both Jepp and Bear.

Some of the hybrids did eventually begin to open up and talk but a lot of them just stayed with sign language which was all good.

Bear and Wendy did become closer and acted more like sisters over time learning nearly everything about each other including Bear's obvious crush on Tiger.

Most of the hybrids teased both Tiger and Bear about their obvious feelings for each other but the two worst ones were Gus and Wendy since their teasing was relentless.

For some reason Gus and a lot of the other hybrids enjoyed booping each other's noses and running away laughing ; Bear tried this once with Tiger and she ended up on the ground with Tiger of top of her.

Both Bear and some hybrids get fidgety with their hands so they have fidget rings to help.

Jepp with the help of Bear,Tiger,and the hybrids built tree houses for them to share but ended up surprising Bear and Tiger with one all to themselves.

Bear can't cook for shit and Jepp can make sometimes decent food and sometimes edible food so Tiger with the help of Bear and Wendy make the food since Tiger and Flamingo when she's around can actually cook good edible food.

Tiger was at first terrified of the hybrids not liking them but the hybrids actually adore them including Wendy who is constantly hinting at her to ask out Bear.

Bear and Tiger eventually confess their feelings and go stargazing together ; Their dynamic really doesn't change since they already acted like a couple.

The teasing from Gus and Wendy stopped for a while but it came right back when Bear and Tiger became a couple.

The animal army,Bear,Tiger,and the hybrids keep in contact constantly and are always looking after each other from a distance.

The animal army adore all the hybrids and are always excited to see them when they can ; The army is kinda like the really cool relatives that let you do what you want when you see each other.

Rosie,Ginger and the boys see Bear,Tiger,Jepp and the hybrids pretty often in order to get the boys socialized and are kinda a apart of the family after some time.

Rosie and Ginger were waiting for Tiger and Bear to get together and were ecstatic when they found out they finally did.

The animal army's reaction however was the reaction of pure excitement but also ultimate relief that these two idiots finally got their shit together ; They were very happy for both of them in the end and had a giant celebration animal army style.

Both Tiger and Bear retired (but still kept) their animal army outfits in order to wear things that were a little more comfortable ; Bear started wearing overalls and more lighter/brighter colors with her famous bandanas and Tiger stuck with more earthy/neutral tones.

The animal army also retired some of their outfits for more comfortable clothing as well since they weren't doing as much fighting.

However now Bear and Tiger have 10x the amount of clothing to sew and fix (from both the hybrids and the animal army) so they're now teaching some of the hybrids and animal army members to sew.

Tiger and Bear still get extra energy from their animal army days so they now run laps in the woods with some of the hybrids to get out the extra energy.

Most days the hybrids play games,swim,screw around in their new home,help around, or drag both Bear and Tiger into their shenanigans ; Luckily for them Bear and Tiger adore being part of this and happily join in.

When everyone does play games or take part in shenanigans it is very competitive and is always a challenge.

The hybrids love hearing stories about the animal army and their adventures with Bear,Tiger,and the animal army happily complying to what the hybrids want to hear.

The hybrids are now getting the childhood they deserved and the animal army including Bear and Tiger are finally getting to experience being teenagers and maybe getting to heal their inner child along the way.

Jepp does eventually find a therapist for both the hybrids and the animal army to use to unpack all their trauma's and feelings ; It is definitely not easy for most of them but after a while (maybe even years) it does get a little bit easier.

Eventually all the members of the animal army with Bear and Tiger get matching tattoos ; None of them really flinch or are really in pain when getting it.

Some of the animal army does change their names with Bear going by both Becky and Bear while Tiger is still deciding.

Both Bear and Tiger are huge musical fans (Bear's a little more open about it than Tiger is tho) ; Bear loves Alice by heart and Tiger loves Hadestown.

All right that's most of my headcannons for right now i know it's a lot (also sorry if there's any spelling mistakes i finished this at 4 am) ; You don't have to exactly agree with me on all the those since we all have different opinions but that's all for now !! (More character text posts coming out in the next few days)

Tagging those who replied to my post before : @punkishtoxtricity @availian @maruheree @koi-fish-boy @lycansprites @braveasnouns @jkriodanverse

[theresattrpgforthat]

i want to destroy the god king and begin an anarchist uprising. culminating in participating in the aftermath building a new world

You and me both buddy. Let’s get started.

THEME: Destroy God

Dethrone Skeleton God, by emmy verse.

DETHRONE SKELETON GOD. THAT IS ALL YOU HAVE TO DO.

In this gmless role playing game you will set out on a journey to find and dethrone the aforementioned god. You will need some d6s, a d12, and some writing materials.

This game pulls a lot of inspiration from some pretty stellar games, including No Stone Unturned, EXTRACAUSAL, Trophy, and Blades in the Dark. You will play racing against three Fallout Tracks, which track the collapse of the material world, the immaterial world, and the Skeleton God’s Power. When all tracks are full, the game is over, and you narrate how the world ends.

If nobody in your group wants the burden/responsibility of running a game, this game is an excellent option as it is both GM-less and lightweight. It’s only 16 pages long and covers creating location elements and exploring them as a group. Everything is collaborative, so if you’re interested in games that let you come up with a story together as you go, you might want to check out this game.

Dead Gods, by Trollish Delver Games.

After the Cataclysm of Heaven it all changed. Murdered gods fell from the sky, sundering the land and casting their sacred relics about the world. From the woodwork crawl Warcults, scavengers of god-relics to further their own twisted gains. The Eternal seek power over death itself. The Order of the Stars seek relics to unlock god-like omniscience. The Pale Druids imbibe relics to acquire power over nature itself. The Black Maw will create a new, hungrier god under their control. 

Pick up a lovingly-designed weird cult and pit them against your friend in a desperate effort to grab a sacred god-relic in this miniatures skirmish game. Each player will control a number of different kinds of war cult members, and there are 4 war cults to embody in the upcoming skirmish. Great for PvP and lovers of combat, but if you want narrative you’ll want to pick up something else or mostly RP it out. You can also check out Unholy Scavengers, for more relics, more scenarios, more models - more more more!

Karanduun - Make God Bleed, by makapatag.(@makapatag)

Karanduun is a modern Filipino Epic RPG about worthless heroes dismantling God, whatever cycle of oppression that must be.  Inspired by modern Filipino folklore and culture. You play as young heroes who must make their legend known and become a legendary Karanduun by making God (whichever oppressive system and tyrant that is) bleed.

Lovers of Kill Six Billion Demons will probably get a big kick out of this game. The god Batala is already dead, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t room for some rebellion of your own. There are demons, corrupt angels, and other Kings of the Earth to defeat, in a post-American world inspired by the Philippines. If you’re looking for some narrative play, this game has got you covered, with rules inspired by Exalted 1e and PbtA. You can check out the physical version of this game on SoulMuppet’s website!

Skorne, by Dreaming Dragonslayer.

You are renegades, part of mankind’s insurrection against SKORNE who is devil prince, commander of demon rulers and their armies, and the darkness that reigns. Overthrow the evil Tyrants. Free chained captives. Fight to the last man.

Part of the NSR movement, Skorne is inspired by media such as Berserk, MORK BORG, and games like Dark Souls and Elden Ring. The game itself is only 4 pages long, with a really interesting system for character creation. You roll for your abilities and then use their values to determine your starting kit. The language in the game is also great for putting you into the fiction, such as the instructions found for character name choice:

“In the beginning, give thy renegade a name, though it will not save them.”

You want gritty and dire circumstances? You want to kill demon princes? You wanna play a game with random tyrant generation? This is for you.

Extreme Meatpunks Forever, by Sinister Beard Games.

"In the beginning, there was meat. A decaying chunk of flesh from a dying god, hurtling through the void of space, thousands of miles wide. A million eyes, a billion hands grasping for purchase against nothingness itself.  This is where we live.”

EXTREME MEATPUNKS FOREVER is a tabletop roleplaying game where you’ll play as a gang of queer antifascists in a strange place called Meatworld. Spinning through space on the screaming corpse of a dead god under the glow of an absent sun, the people of Meatworld harvest its flesh to make their technology.

Embody your queer rage and kill fascists in meat-mechs in Extreme Meatpunks Forever. A PbtA game, this option is narrative-heavy and allows you to pick from some pretty metal weapons, including (but not limited to) Excellent Seasoning, A Bit Stick What Has Shrapnel In It, and Deathfucker Cannon. In your downtime, you can kiss your friends and work to heal and deal with your trauma. If you want a game that feels metal and also presents you with extremely punchable enemies, this is your game!

Other Recommendations

If you want some more recommendations you can also check out the Attack and Dethrone God Jam on itch.io, or my Revolution recommendation post.

If you’re interested in what happens after you end the world, then I recommend my Post-Apocalyptic Community Building recommendations!

[imaginethezeldaverse]

ganondorf nsfw alphabet, any letters....pleaseeeee

Funnily enough I got this request on AO3 as well so I will post it here too! Letters that were chosen were A, D, I , N, S, T, V, W, X NSFW Alphabet Reference here

 A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) He's often silent, allow his hands to do most of the talking. He'll trail his larger fingers over your skin in a very soothing manner. Might place some kisses on your body here and there as he holds you close. During the times he's much more rough and really fucks you up, he'll be sure to be very gentle on you afterward, handling you carefully and checking in that he hasn't truly hurt you in a way that requires medicinal aid. D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) The feared Gerudo Chief and Demon King actually likes to be restrained every once in a while. Though he is prideful of being a very dominant male, he finds it fun and a bit of a turn on to have his strength and power held back to where he no longer holds a dominant role. It's a secret because he chooses not to be open about it. I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) Oh that will depend on what kind of sex you engage in. If you're both taking your time with each other - where the kisses are slower, the touches linger a little longer, and you find yourselves getting lost in another - then Ganondorf will be quite saccharine with you. He'll worship your body like a temple, whisper lowly of his love for you, hold you closely as he takes you so you can feel his presence in the moment. However, if you're both just looking to fuck - like pent up, nail-digging, cursing and biting kind of sex, then there's no romance lol you're getting railed. N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) Cuckolding. Ganondorf plays second fiddle to no one and absolutely will not share you. You belong to him as much as he belongs to you and because of that, no one else can have you. S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?) Until you can no longer take it or he personally is done. Ganondorf has not only the strength and stamina of a Gerudo man, but the limitless energy of Ganon with him. He might quite literally be unable to stop; however, that doesn't mean he won't respect you and your body's limits. So in short: for however long you need him to last and as many rounds as your body can handle. T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) Ohhh yes. The Gerudo Chieftain has anything and everything he wants at his disposal to use on you and on himself. The language of lust is a broad spectrum tongue, he would find it only fair that anything he uses on your body he would use on his own. Though, should you allow him free reign on you - he may get a tad carried away with how long he has that vibrator in you. He does like to see you squirm a bit. V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) His volume builds depending on what he's doing. If he's going down on you he may not be particularly loud aside from the normal throaty growls or groans. However if he's inside of you, you will absolutely hear him. He's groaning, he's grunting, he's panting, cursing in your ear, the whole nine. The closer he is to orgasm, the louder he is. If it's an especially hard-hitting orgasm, he will roar. It is both incredibly intimidating and unbelievably arousing.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character) He tags in Ganon every once in a while just to satiate the demon's hunger every once in a while. There's a lot of ground rules with that, but Ganondorf being the true vessel for a prolific world ending evil in all of the reincarnations that have housed him, he thankfully has very good control over its power. So don't be totally surprised if you see his eyes glow a sinister red - just know that you won't be meeting your demise anytime soon with him.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) For a man with his build, you may never know what to expect, right? ...Well expect it - this Gerudo is packing heat. To accompany those biceps that are well past the size of your head and a torso you can't even fully fit your arms around, he rather long and incredibly thick. It takes some getting used to every time he enters you. There's a slight curve in it when it's at complete attention - a fact that often has you singing his name from the angle it hits inside you. If I had to give it a number - a solid nine inches, surrounded by neatly kept crimson pubic curls.