#fact: you tell him to not do something and he will probably want to do it even more

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 27 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley is required to travel for a week, and both you and he are exhausted. He's hoping this will mean fewer deployments in the future, but in the present, he's going to need to remember where his responsibilities lie.

Warnings: Angst, adult language, lactation kink, body image, fluff, smut, DILF Roo

Length: 3900 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

Once again, your parents extended their stay to spend more time with Rose, but when they finally flew back to Maryland, it felt strange to be on your own with your daughter. You and Bradley fell into a regular routine once more, but it took him days before he came clean about being stressed out. When he got home late from work to find you on the couch feeding Rose, you could tell by the set of his shoulders that he'd had a long day.

"Can we talk about some things?" he asked, bending to untie his boots. You'd been wanting him to confide in you for days, but you were already exhausted again from the late night feedings and had pushed the comments Bradley made to Jake to the back burner.

"What's on your mind?" you asked, secretly pleased that he leaned down to give you a long, needy kiss, complete with his big hand on your neck, before kissing Rose as she ate. It had been a few days since you and he were intimate, and your body was already responding to him as he dropped down on the couch next to you.

"Can we just move to La Jolla? Nothing stresses me out when we have copious amounts of champagne and oral sex."

You laughed at his unexpected response as he ran his rough fingers along Rose's fuzzy hair. "Don't forget about the seafood platters."

"Sweetheart, I'll never forget about the seafood platters," he promised, turning to look at you as his head sank back against the couch. "Your mom and dad are serious about moving out here."

Your smile started to fade away. "Yeah, Roo. They are. And I thought you were pleased by that fact."

"I am." His brown eyes remained fixed on yours. "I am. I told you I was. I want them close, but not too close. Like, I don't want them next door where they can hear me call you my filthy little slut or something."

"Bradley," you said, laughing again as he took Rose in his hands to burp her.

"They don't need to know the ins and outs of how you call me Daddy while you're gagging on my cock either." He kissed the baby on her forehead. "Sorry, Nugget. I'll teach you one day how babies are made, and you'll probably cringe the whole time."

You sighed and reached for Bradley, cupping his jaw in your hand and stroking his mustache with your thumb. "My parents are seriously getting their house ready to sell. So just give it to me straight."

He nodded. "I don't want them over here all the time, okay? I love them, I really do, but they take over our house when they come. And even though we finished the attic so they could have a place to stay when they're here, Rosie can move her bedroom up there when she's older. So it wasn't a waste of time since the contractor saw your tits."

"It was a photo of my tits! I didn't just whip them out for him to see!" Now Bradley was laughing as you said, "It sounds like you're worried about having some boundaries if my parents become our new neighbors."

"Yes," he replied, nodding as you ran your fingers along his jaw. "That."

"I'm sure we can have a conversation with them and address all of your concerns." Rose seemed to be done burping, and you were treated to the view of Bradley cuddling your four month old against his chest. "Now, can you tell me what else made you have a bad day at work?"

"What makes you think I had a bad day?" he asked, placing soft kisses on Rose's cheek. "I could never have a bad day when I get to come home to my girls." You sighed as he ran his nose along her hair and inhaled deeply before he met your gaze. "Okay. It's not the end of the world, but Mav informed me that I need to take a trip to the Naval Airstation in Fort Worth. I don't really have any details yet."

"Okay," you replied softly, finally voicing what had been on your mind. "Well, maybe Rose and I can come with you for a few days? I can't remember exactly how much vacation time I have left, but it could be fun. And you did say the next trip should be for the three of us to enjoy together."

Bradley shrugged and immediately said, "Fort Worth in August? Baby Girl, it's going to be miserably hot. I know you, for some reason, miss the east coast humidity, but this is going to be gross. Ask Jake about it, he's from that ridiculous state."

You couldn't believe how quickly he shut it down. "It was just an idea," you mumbled, watching him snuggle the baby. "So you wouldn't have to miss Rose the whole time while you're away."

His head tipped back as he sighed. "I'm taking this new position so I can hopefully deploy less often and be here more later on. Even if I have to start working longer days, a week or two away from home is nothing compared to five months."

You bristled. "I understand that, Roo. We've talked about this so much. But maybe try to be a little bit more patient with the idea of my parents moving here so I can have a support system when you're busy?"

When you stood and rushed toward the bedroom, Bradley was right behind you, hand reaching out to grab your shoulder while he still held Rose tight. "Are you mad at me?"

Your stomach roiled with irritation, annoyance and disdain. You hated when you got like this, because he was the one who could bring out the best and also the worst in you. "I don't know."

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

You were kind of quiet at home. Bradley hated it. You were a bit more vocal during sex, but that certainly didn't make him feel any better about the rest of it.

"I have my dates for Fort Worth," he informed you when he strolled in from work with some yellow flowers and a new book for Rose. Today was important to him. He wasn't sure you'd remember why, but he still wanted to acknowledge it.

"When?" you asked, continuing to make dinner while he looked around for the baby. "She's napping in her crib," you added, seemingly knowing he always wanted his daughter nearby.

"Second week of August," he replied. "So, pretty soon. But just for a week." You nodded as Bradley walked closer, and he realized what you were cooking. "Marry Me Rooster?"

"Yeah." Your voice was soft as you looked at him over your shoulder. You were also still wearing your khaki uniform, and he could tell you were tired. He was tired, too, but he wanted things to feel more natural around here again. He didn't want to accept that this was just how things would be now when the two of you were taking turns getting up with Rose all the time.

He wished he hadn't made such a fuss about your parents, because he really did love them, and it would be nice to have some help occasionally. And now he felt like you were continually annoyed with him, and he had to figure out a way to fix this.

Your voice broke into his thoughts. "It's kind of a special day?" 

You sounded unsure. Like you thought maybe he didn't remember. But a smile immediately found his lips, and he gestured to the flowers. He should have known you'd remember. You remembered everything. You just made him a seafood platter to celebrate Carole's birthday the other day.

"I proposed two years ago." You visibly relaxed at his words as you took the flowers in your hands. He stroked the diamond ring on your finger as he said, "I couldn't wait another minute after I found this in the storage unit. I needed you to wear it. I needed you to say yes." You melted into his arms, and he kissed your forehead. "Can I go ahead and propose something else right now?"

You nodded and hummed, lips brushing the scars on his neck. "I'm just happy you remembered."

"Sweetheart, I remember everything," he promised. "And I propose that we plan a trip for the three of us before the year is over. We can go anywhere you and the Nugget want."

Your eyes lit up as he cupped your perfect cheek in his hand. "I have so many ideas, Roo."

"I knew you would. Can I make another proposal?" When you raised one eyebrow, he whispered, "How about we mess around before Rose wakes up?"

He was already wrapping his arms around you, turning you toward the hallway when you said, "But what about dinner?"

"We'll be fast," he replied confidently, turning off the stove burner.

"You're never fast! You like to linger!"

"It's a new era, Baby Girl. The mom and dad era. I'll learn how to be quick so we can finish before she wakes up."

This was the closest thing to a true quickie Bradley had experienced in a long time. Maybe ever. You were pushed up against the wall just inside the bedroom, belt jingling with your pants down around your thighs. He was going hard at a nice, steady pace with his hand inside your bra. Your warm milk dripped between his fingers and along his palm as he whimpered. 

"Oh, I love this so much," he whined as his other fingers found your clit. "I'm not happy about making this quick. I might need more later."

He could already hear Rose getting restless in the nursery down the hallway, her soft cries ramping up as Bradley slammed his cock into his wife. He wanted to make sure he got you off before he was done, but then you went and said something so hot, he knew he wasn't going to be able to hold on much longer. 

"I could always nurse you later if you want."

When he came, his vision flooded with dizzying color. Bradley lapped your milk from his hand, moaning your name as his hips eventually slowed. Rose was wailing now as you bent down to pull your pants up, cum dripping down your inner thighs as you looked at him with a little grin.

"I take it you're interested in my offer."

"Absolutely," he rasped, pulling his pants up so he could go say hi to his daughter. "If I ever say no to your tits, something is definitely wrong, Baby Girl. That would be your cue to take me out back and finish me off." You laughed when he said, "Happy engagement anniversary. I'll go take care of the Nugget."

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

"When's the wedding?" you asked Jake as you dropped your tray next to his at lunch. He was eating the most delicious looking burger and a slice of pizza, and your soup and salad looked pitiful next to them. Seemingly no matter what you did, you'd stopped losing weight since the baby was born, and right now you were so exhausted, you couldn't even think about starting an exercise regimen.

"We've been engaged less than a month," Jake drawled, shoving some of the accompanying fries into his mouth. "Maybe some of us can wait a little longer to get hitched than your husband could, Angel." You rolled your eyes dramatically at him, but you were fighting a smile. "I'm trying my best to make sure that everything is in order for Jeremiah, if I'm being honest."

"Like what?" you asked, blowing on a spoonful of your soup.

Jake heaved a deep sigh, dragging a fry through ketchup. "He already calls me 'dad'. His speech was delayed, but it was still one of his first words, probably because I was around so much. I want to make sure Cat's ex doesn't get any rights, and if that means I need to hire another legal team before we get married, then so be it."

Tears stung your eyes as you patted his cheek gently. You knew you were lucky that you and Bradley were together and that he would do anything to take care of his child, but right now you were just so happy for Jeremiah. "He's such a sweet kid, Jake. And you love him so much."

"I do," he replied before taking an enormous bite out of his burger. You let him chew in silence while you picked at your lunch. Right now, you really wished Bradley was here, but the chances of him showing up were slim when he was out shadowing Maverick again. He was leaving in a few days for Texas, and you were feeling pretty emotional. It would just be you and Rose at home for a whole week by yourselves.

"Well, if you're looking for a nice venue, I know a good parking lot."

Jake barked out a laugh. "There's too much sentimental Bradshaw bullshit in that parking lot. No way I'd be allowed to get married there."

Then Cat showed up, and Jake's attention immediately shifted to her. You poked your salad around on your plate, wondering why you were so damn tired. You still had four more hours of work to get through before you had to pick Rose up and make dinner. Maybe you could just get pizza. But you shouldn't. But it sounded so good as you watched Jake eat his. But your hips and belly were already so big, you couldn't let yourself.

Your afternoon was filled with checking code that someone in Annapolis had entered, and they'd done a really shitty job. When you left your office, your eyes were tired, and you could feel yourself caving. You ordered a pizza and picked it up on your way home with Rose. Then you ate half of it on the couch while you fed her. And when you were done, you really wanted to cry, because you didn't know why you couldn't control yourself right now.

"I'm starving," Bradley groaned when he walked in. "You got pizza?" he asked, shoving two slices stacked up on top of each other into his mouth and moaning. Then he dropped down onto the couch and polished them off while you switched Rose to your other side. "I need to remember to pack my dress blues for Fort Worth."

"Why?"

Bradley shrugged and reached for the next slice. "Apparently, there's some sort of reception for the aviators that are selected for Top Gun in the fall. I don't know how much sway I'll have, but I'm really hoping I can pick some good ones for the next generation of the program since I'm aging out."

"You're not aging out, Roo!" you gasped. "You chose a different career trajectory!" 

"I mean..."

"Stop. You're not old. Don't even try to tell me you're old."

"I'll be forty soon."

"You're thirty-eight."

"That's almost forty."

"You look like a DILF."

He reached for the last slice of pizza, folded it up and ate it while he reached for Rose. Like usual, she curled up on her father. Her features looked so much like his, but he was always the first one to argue with you about that, so you said nothing while he chewed up his food.

"I need you to help me pack for hot as hell Texas. I'm thinking just shorts besides my flight suits and uniforms?"

"I'll help you as soon as Rose goes to sleep for the night."

Bradley took the reins for the rest of the evening while you tried not to fall asleep before the baby. That was much easier said than done, but at least Bradley supervised tummy time while Tramp licked Rose, and then he gave her a bath. He read bedtime stories and changed her into pajamas so you didn't have to, gently setting her in her crib before joining you where you sat in bed yawning.

"You okay?" he asked, brushing his lips along your cheek before heading to the closet to start pulling out clothes to pack.

"Yeah. I just wish I didn't order the pizza, because it's empty calories, and it probably made me feel worse and more exhausted in the long run."

"But it was delicious," he muttered, piling up some of his favorite tropical print shirts. "Be honest, how many of these do you think I'll need?"

You snorted. "Unless every night is happy hour at the Copacabana, probably none. But knowing you, I'd pack at least two."

"See, you understand," he muttered with a smile as you chose two of your favorites and handed them to him. It was strange watching him load things into a duffle bag for something other than a deployment or special mission. You knew exactly how long he'd be gone. You knew it was just for a week and that he could FaceTime you and Rose whenever he wanted to, but it still felt like you were sending him away.

"We're going to miss you." 

He immediately tossed the bag onto the floor and joined you in bed. "Don't cry, Baby Girl," he whispered, swiping at tears you hadn't realized were already filling your eyes. "I'll barely be gone at all. And I don't even have to finish packing tonight. I can do it later."

You nodded and let him envelope you in his warmth. That's how you eventually fell asleep.

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

"This sucks," Bradley said for probably the hundredth time in the past hour. Standing at the curb at San Diego International Airport with a beautiful wife and a beautiful daughter, being forced to leave them for a week, was actually awful. He didn't want to go. He wanted to continue to cradle Rose against his chest with his arm wrapped around you until he missed his flight.

"You have to go now so hopefully you can do this less frequently in the future," you whispered, voice shaky with emotion. You looked really tired, and Bradley knew you wouldn't get much of a break this week. That's why he'd arranged for Nat to check on you at home a few times whether you wanted her to or not.

"Count on it, Sweetheart," he murmured, placing kisses to Rosie's soft hair as her little fingers poked at the insignia pins on his uniform. "And I need you to be a perfect Nugget for Mommy. I'll call later tonight after I get settled in the barracks."

"Okay." Your voice was muffled as you buried your face against his neck. "I love you."

"I love you both," he promised, collecting his final kisses from Rose before buckling her into her car seat in the back of the red Bronco. Then he got a particularly filthy kiss from you that left both of you grinning before you started to shove him toward the airport entrance.

"You need to go or you'll miss your flight. And then Mav will be on my case about it."

Before he ducked inside, he cupped his free hand to his mouth and shouted, "I love you!" He watched you blow him a kiss and then pull away from the curb before he headed to the counter to drop off his bag. 

He hated traveling like this, in his uniform. It felt like everyone milling around, trying to check their bags, was looking at him. He was only wearing it today, because he wasn't sure what to expect when he arrived at a base he'd only visited one time years ago. The last thing he wanted was to seem unprepared in front of an admiral, so he wore his khakis as a precaution.

"Lieutenant Commander. Where are you headed?" asked the airline agent when she looked at his pins.

Impressed, he replied, "Dallas-Fort Worth."

She took his duffle, wished him a good flight, and then Bradley slept for the entire time he was in the air. Maybe you weren't the only one who was exhausted, because the nap seemed to do wonders for him. He woke up feeling rested, and just as soon as he sent a text letting you know he landed, he was off in search of a rental car.

To his absolute delight, all he had to do was ask nicely and flash his most charming smile, and he was handed the keys to a brand new, black Bronco. It was a model year newer than your red one back at home, and he was excited to scrutinize all of the little differences as he drove it around for the week.

"Don't like the lack of a car seat," he muttered, tossing his bag onto the backseat where he was so used to seeing Rose's infant carrier. 

Was he really that guy? Did he already miss his kid enough that he had to open up the photo gallery in his phone and scroll through a few pictures before he could drive away? Apparently he was, and it made him ache to be away from her. This was so much worse than going to La Jolla without his daughter, because right now, he had neither of you.

When his stomach started rumbling for dinner, he drove to the barracks and showed his identification, only to be told his room wasn't ready yet. So he went right back out to the Bronco in search of dinner. He knew the name of a tavern popular with officers in the area, so he typed it into his GPS and headed in the direction it told him. He had to laugh, figuring he was about to walk into the Lone Star version of the Hard Deck, but that's kind of what he wanted right now. Dinner somewhere that felt comfortable if not familiar.

"Oof." It looked like a dump compared to his bar at home, but it seemed popular, and he was hungry enough that it didn't matter. When he walked in, he took a quick survey of the space before grabbing an empty stool at the bar. He ordered your favorite beer and a sandwich and took his phone out, careful not to set it on the bar in case the owner was part of some sort of association along with Penny.

He tried reading an article, but he felt as though he was being watched. Bradley tried to ignore it, fairly certain he didn't know anyone on base here, but the feeling nagged at him while he ate. The twang of music playing on the jukebox was distracting, but not distracting enough. When he finished his food and wiped his mouth with a napkin, he picked up his bottle and drained the rest of his beer while he glanced around. 

Then he saw a young woman in a flight suit playing pool not too far from his spot at the bar. Her bright blue eyes were focused on his face, and her lips curled into a grin before she bent to sink her shot. Her patches told him she originated from Virginia Beach like he did, and that her call sign was Indigo. As Bradley turned, ready to sign his bill and leave, he saw her approach out of the corner of his eye.

"Can I help you?" he asked, turning her way again with one eyebrow raised. She was attractive, even up close, and he remained silent while her gaze traveled from his face down to his chest where his name tag was displayed. Then she gasped in delight.

"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw," she said, eyes snapping back up to meet his. "All the way from Top Gun. I've been waiting to meet you for weeks, Sir."

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Well, I hope BG is having a nice time at home without her husband. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

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[babyfoxflower]

I had an idea, Alastor having strange feelings around Angel Doe! reader, the reader would be an angel, sent from heaven later to help at the hotel, perhaps reader because she is an angel she is very innocent and does not see or understand why alastor acts strange around her

My Angel

Alastor x Fem! Angel Reader

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Mentions of Murder, Jealousy, Possessiveness, No Smut (just cuz the requester didn’t ask for it)

It had been three months since Heaven sent you to help at the Hazbin Hotel, and Alastor for one could not stand it. It wasn’t that he hated or even remotely disliked you. You were a perfectly pleasant girl. A sweet little doe.

You never bothered him with stupid questions. You respected his boundaries, laughed at his old timey puns, and always greeted him with one of the prettiest smiles he’s ever seen. In fact you smiled a lot, something he appreciated probably more than anyone.

You also had the prettiest eyes, the loviest hair, the sweetest face, big adorable fluffy ears, and whenever he saw your fluffy little tail—he wanted to gently tug on it just to hear you bleat.

You radiated beauty and grace, and were beacon of warmth and comfort. Everything about you was perfect. You were a creature of God, never touched by evil or impurity. There wasn’t a single mean bone in your body.

What he couldn’t stand was this strange feeling he felt around you. It was as if he had butterflies in his stomach and his dead heart would beat faster, even occasionally skipping a beat.

What was more annoying was that you seemed completely oblivious to the what you were doing to him. At first, he thought that this was some kind of effect that angels had on others. However when he asked the others about it, none of them felt the same way he did around you.

“Sounds like you’re in love,” Vaggie said.

“Ahahaha! That’s a good one, my dear!” He laughed.

“Hey, I wouldn’t believe it either. But what you’re describing is what it feels like to be in love.”

In love? Was he really in love with you?

Sure, he felt extremely jealous whenever anyone else was taking up your time. Sure, he felt that you should only be by his side. Sure, he murdered a few sinners who were staring at you when the two of you went out for walks together. Sure, there was a time when an especially lowly wretch had the gall to ask you, the most gorgeous lady to ever live, on a date and Alastor ripped the man in half with his bare hands when you were distracted. And sure, he had frequent dreams about you where he would press you up against a wall and…

“Hmm, perhaps what that angry little woman said was true…I’m in love.”

———————————————————————

“Y/n, my dear, may I speak with you?”

“Of course!” You flashed him that gorgeous smile.

Alastor led you away to a corner where you two could have privacy. 

“What is it, Al? You look nervous.”

“Y/n, I…You’re making this more difficult by batting your lovely doe eyes at me.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you frowned.

“No, you don’t have to be sorry. Damn it! Why is this so hard to tell you!?” He exclaimed.

“I find it easier to just blurt out whatever you need to say,” you replied.

“You’re right. I’ll just say it! I love you.”

You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks, “Pardon?”

“I love you, Y/n. You’re the first thing I think of when I wake up and the last thing I think of before I go to sleep. You’re constantly on my mind, even in my dreams. I love you so much that I can’t breathe when you’re not by my side. When you walk away, I miss you even before you are out of sight. I love you.”

“You mean more than a friend, right?”

Alastor sighed, “Way more than a friend, my darling doe.”

Suddenly that smile that he loved so much returned to your face, “I love you too, my sweet stag! Everything you just said, I feel the exact same way,” you licked his cheek affectionately.

He blushed.

“Oh sorry! I forgot that you used to be human and that humans don’t tend to lick each other.”

“It’s quite alright, my love,” he licked your cheek in the same fashion, “I’m not a human anymore, my doe. I’m your stag.”

Taglist 🏷️: @2dmenforme @xghostnuggsx @alastorthirsty

[pbandnoj]

The JjK men reacting to finding out you’re infertile. This was honestly a self-indulgent fic idea but then it won on the poll I put out and honestly I was kinda surprised people were interested! Yall picked the only fic I didn’t have finished but I do now so here it is! If you’d like a part 2 let me know! +what characters!

Toji

You didn’t tell him until years into the relationship. Sure maybe that wasn’t the healthiest thing but oh well things happened and you couldn’t change the past. And it took so long for Toji to trust you… that you just didn’t want to add another thing on top of it to deal with. I mean it took him almost a year for him to introduce you to his kids. It took him that long just to feel serious about your relationship.

And it’s not like he asked either, or used a condom. Cmon, we all know his history with women and he just kinda presumed you were on the pill, or that he’d deal with the consequences after the fact. He had two kids, this wasn’t his first time around the block. And even after he got serious with you he never brought up wanting to have another. His hands were full, and besides he wasn’t very well off. I mean you guys made it work, but that was just with the 4 of you, who knows what adding another would do.

So the conversation didn’t happen until probably 5… maybe 6 years in. Where you both had pretty much decided that you were stuck with each other. That if you lost each other at this point in life there would be no reason to restart the process of finding someone new all over again. He trusted you, and god that meant a lot coming from a man like Toji, his goal was to protect his kids and now you along with them.

Laying on the couch one night, one kid off at a sleepover the other supposed to be returning home soon. You guys trusted them… maybe a lil too much. Head resting on his chest, listening to the way his heart pounded, like it wanted to leap out of his chest and make it known just how much he loved you, how much joy he found being with you. Something he thought he’d never find again after the loss of his first wife, and the second one leaving him.

Some thriller played in the background, some movie franchise Toji was secretly a big fan of. Half empty beers sitting on the coffee table, one of his hands softly scratching your back, softer than the man had ever been before. You, aimlessly fiddling with his other hand that adorned his shiny wedding ring, one that matched yours, deciding on simple ones that didn’t cost much, but meant a lot.

“Hey Toji?” You muttered out, voice weaker than you intended, his hand on your back instinctively tightened, a simple grunt in response. Your tone of voice worried him, that tone always did, meant you’d ruin the peace with something serious, as he’d always say. But really he was just always worried it’d be something so serious that he’d end up losing you.

When you didn’t continue, he grumbled, ready for you just to spit it out. This type of atmosphere either had 1 of 2 endings to whatever conversation was going to happen, either you were super upset over something really really detrimental or it was something silly you were getting all caught up on. “What is it woman? You’re ruining the movie,” his words were harsh, but you were long past the phase of wondering if he was mad at you over simply the way he normally spoke.

“Well….Did you ever… I don’t know… question why I was so excited that you had kids?” You hummed out softly, your hand that was fiddling with the ring on his finger slowly moving to hold his hand instead. Toji had once in the past let it slip that when he had tried dating before you he often got hurt cause they didn’t want to deal with his already pre-started family. He sighed knowing you were overthinking something, “Mmm, not really, was just grateful,” that was one of the first time you had actually heard him be so openly heartfelt.

“Oh…. Well it’s cause I can’t have my own,” you hummed softly. His expression didn’t change, nothing more than an eyebrow quirking up, “Is that so doll?” He mumbled, already deciding this convo was one of the silly ones, aka option 2. You took his response as him just simply brushing you off, watching his eyes reconnect with the tv screen and his hand that was intertwined with yours, now reaching for his beer bottle, “Those kids, Megumi and Tsumiki, are just as much yours now as they are mine.” Everything he had needed to say was in that one little sentence alone.

Your eyes widened, “Oh Toji,” you muttered softly, holding back tears, “Oh Jesus don’t cry,” he huffed, resuming his hand on your back, rubbing soft soothing circles. Reaching his head down to press a kiss to the top of your head but in his head he was just glad this was one of your silly overthought moments.

Nanami

You told him on your 3rd date. Nanami was a classy man, made you feel really stupid for some of the guys you had dated in the past, so you wanted to treat him right just as he treated you.

On your first date he was stiff, and awkward even, but it was endearing in a way. You both had worked together so there was no reason for him be worried but it was nice to know that someone like Nanami could be nervous. That date was a dinner date.

Your second was a bit more relaxed, a bowling alley, an idea recommended by Gojo an annoying coworker you both shared (and bonded over complaining about). It was nice cause Nanami could get a few drinks in, relax a bit, unbutton the top button of his shirt. Strike some strikes and whatever else you did in bowling. It was nice.

Your third date was a walk through the park, a bit more impromptu but you had decided this one, invited him on it too. It was after an early mission, so you two were done around the afternoon. The sun was warm, flowers blooming, walking side by side down some path. And of course the relationship wasn’t official but Nanami knew from the first time he had saw you he wanted you.

His hand was placed respectfully on your lower back, of course after making sure you were ok with it, and trees lined the pathway you were walking on. He had haphazardly stuck a flower in your hair, one he had picked along your walk.

He was warm, comforting, made you feel like you could be you, so you wanted to be honest. “Kento… are you sure I’m the one you want?” You asked gently, eyes nervously looking up at him as you bit your lip, awaiting his response.

“Of course,” he scoffed, he may be a gentleman but he sure was sassy. “Why wouldn’t I?” He hummed tilting his head down to look at you. “Well… I just think some of are goals don’t align,” you sighed and an eyebrow raise from him was all you needed to know that he was listening.

“Well I…. Look… I can’t… I can’t give you a family,” you muttered looking away, your body becoming rigid against his, “And what do you mean by that?” His voice stern, impending, but not harsh just… curious. “Well… I can’t exactly procreate and it be successful…you get it?” You mumbled under your breath as you picked at the sides of your nails.

Oh, that’s what you meant. He nodded more as a confirmation for his inner thoughts than anything you said, he brought one of his free hands to swat at yours that were picking, “That’s fine,” he shrugged looking back ahead at the path.

“What?” You half yelled definitely hearing some bird flying away from you at the disturbance, “But you.. didn’t you wanna settle down? Have a family? I’ve heard you talk about it,” you grumbled.

He rolled his eyes, “Sure I did, but none of that would mean anything without you,” he hummed, stopping to face you. Tilting your head up by your chin, tired eyes meeting yours, “I want you and you alone. If I can’t have children so be it. You’re enough for me.”

And needless to say it was definitely official after that.

Sukuna

The king of curses was already a very scary man, and honestly talking to him could be quite… difficult to say the least. So you swore off to never tell him. And he didn’t even want the little rascals anyway.

Children were too… annoying for someone who was already so irritating himself, and a little one just like him? Hell would freeze over if that happened.

But he couldn’t deny that you made him ponder. What would it be like? Having one.. or possibly two that were a mix of you both. Or better yet he’d like it more if they were exactly like you. The world would be a better place with only one version of Sukuna Ryomen in it.

Yet he didn’t think of it often. But you knew you had to come clean soon, you could feel the way he glared at your stomach as if trying to stare straight into your uterus. When really he was just trying to figure it if you could even carry a baby from a cursed spirit like him… or if he could get a mere mortal pregnant.

He started trying to, oh so so hard to get you pregnant, every single time burying himself all the way before shooting his load. Yet you never showed any signs. Maybe he was simply incapable. That made him frown.

And that was when you hit a dry spell. He had become so worried that he was shooting blanks or that it was simply impossible to have kids because he was a curse. He was a lot more grouchy, and a lot less touchy. Sukuna already found cuddling and the sorts useless but now? Oh he’d barely look at you now.

He was always easily agitated so you often had found it easier to avoid conflict but he was making it seem like you didn’t even exist. One night you burst into his chambers, a little more attitude in the way you shoved the doors open than you usual.

“Tell me,” you called out standing firmly at the edge of his bed, fuming as your first clenched. His raspy, booming laugh resounding amongst the room. “Tell you what exactly? I owe you nothing,” he hummed remaining in his relaxed position on his lavishly large bed.

“You’ve barely spoken to me or even looked at me in a week? You used to be insatiable what is the problem!” You scrambled out. He clicked his tongue as he rolled his eyes, “Tsk, it’s none of your business how I spend my time. If it bothers you then shoo.”

You groaned, you knew him better than that, he wasn’t being truthful. “Sukuna tell me or I will leave this time, I am done playing this game with you.” Narrowing his eyes he took a good long pause before speaking, pointing down to your abdomen, “You show no signs of pregnancy despite multiple times in the bedroom. I’m confused aren’t most women your age fertile?” He jested, quirking a brow.

“Oh,” you muttered straightening up as you sighed. He sensed the noticeable change, “Your soul’s wavering, you know I can feel it, spit it out,” he said, glaring at you, but his look was one more of concern, you could always tell the difference. “Well I uh…”

You walked around to sit on your side of the bed, really he’d never call it that to your face, before you he’d always just sprawled out. Now he made sure to leave that space empty. “Look I…. I can’t have em,” his brow raised, “Have what? You’re being cryptic mortal.”

You groaned, “Kids! I can’t have kids,” that was laughable. Wait you weren’t joking? Sukuna quickly realized that, “What are you deformed?” He teased but it didn’t help the way your eyes got all dewy. He grumbled, he may be practically a demon….. but he did care enough for you to be in his bed next to him.

“So you cannot produce my heir,” and all you could respond with was a shake of your head, confirming. To Sukuna this made him feel a million times better. He wasn’t shooting blanks you simply just weren’t able to be impregnated. He was joyous if not for the tone of the situation.

“Does not matter,” you shot your head over, a confused look on your face. “You wouldn’t have been able to carry my baby anyways, I’m far too powerful for a mortal to carry my heir,” he teased, and while he had his signature smirk you could see the slight tenderness through it.

This may have been one of the only times he seemed to have understood your turmoil. And also the only time for him to have been the first one to initiate physical contact, pulling you into his chest. One hand running protectively over your back, another in your hair, the other two wrapping around you. “Do not fret, calm your soul dear,” his deep voice muttered out soothingly. And that was probably the best you had ever slept.

[planetpedri]

hey queen! Could you do a angst of Pau cubarsi? Pau and reader having an argument before going to his family gathering. Pau’s sister noticed that reader is quite upset and talks with Pau about it. When they return home, they’ll talk about it and everything! 🫶🏼

Coming clean — Pau Cubarsí.

Pairing: Pau Cubarsí x Fem!Reader

Summary: An unresolved argument with Pau had ruined your whole night. Luckily for you, Irene is right there to help you get Pau to come clean.

Word count: 1.17k

Disclaimer/s: arguing , angst to resolved ending.

A/N: it’s 3:45 am and i can’t sleep so here is this! + hi Bea! how about you try to end a fucking post w out it ending in a kiss???🤦‍♀️

The car ride to Pau’s parent’s house was silent. No music, no talking, just pure and tense, silence. The lingering anger from the argument that had only happened ten minutes ago was still fresh.

Even when you arrived, at least a foot apart, you still hadn’t talked. You separated from each other instantly; Pau finding his cousins and you wandering around aimlessly.

Irene watched as you arrived, she could sense that something was off when instead of finding her or her parents, you milled around the food table.

She pushed off the counter she was leaning against and made her way towards you. When Irene called out your name, you plopped a grape into your mouth before turning to face her with a forced smile.

“Irene! Hi!” Your expression falters when you see the way she was looking at you—pity. “What?”

“Let’s go take a walk, yeah?”

Your eyes dart to Pau, who was busy conversing with his cousins. “Okay, yeah. Where to?”

Looking around, the girl points to the back door. “My mom’s flowers started to bloom, want to take a look?” Subtle. Very, very subtle, Irene.

Lips pulling into a thin line, you nod. Irene spins on her heels and marches her way towards the door. You pass Pau, but he doesn’t bother looking in your direction, though you knew he saw you by the tick of his jaw.

Trying not to scoff, you take a deep breath and follow Irene out the door. The spring air hits you comfortingly and the view of Mrs.Cubarsí’s flower garden brings a genuine smile to your face.

“It’s really improved since the last time I was here.” You comment, bending down to sniff one of the vibrant flowers.

Irene hums in agreement. “So, what happened with you and Pau?” When your head snaps in her direction, she chuckles. “Sorry, I just noticed you two were unusually distant and you looked upset.”

You let out a quiet, “oh!” Before you continue. “We argued. It’s a communication problem.” You wave your hand as if to dismiss the problem, but a butter taste lingers on your tongue.

“Okay… tell me about it? Pau is usually an open book, or at least, he used to be.”

You snort at the last part. “Used to be, yeah. Not anymore. For some reason, he’s been holding things back recently, and oh! Yesterday, I went to hold his hand and he—well, he pushed his hand back into his pocket.” You point at the house, though not directly to wherever Pau probably was. “Him avoiding affection? Not normal.”

Irene’s forehead creases in confusion. Pau had never, not once, refused to show you affection. In fact, he was always seeking it out. “Okay, yeah, weird. What did he say when you tried to talk to him?”

You couldn’t help but scoff, “he said that I was ‘reading too much into things’ and that I was, ‘being dramatic’. I’m staring to think—“ Your mouth clamps shut, you couldn’t say that.

Giving you a look, Irene urges you to continue. “Think..?”

“That he’s..” You run your hand over your mouth, “that maybe he’s falling out of love. It’s stupid, I know, but I can’t help but assume, y’know?”

Frowning, Irene nods in understanding. “He loves you, i’m sure of it. He’s just being difficult. Maybe you two should leave early, talk it out?” She pauses, “or I can give him a talking to.”

Your eyes widen, “no! No. Do not talk to him, i’ll figure it out. Just.. need to figure out what to say first.”

“Let’s go back to the party and you contemplate while we stuff our faces, perhaps?”

“That sounds like a brilliant idea.”

When the gathering was over and Pau was driving you back home, you play with the hem of your skirt. “Pau?” You speak quietly, not sparing him a glance.

Pau turns in your direction momentarily, offering you a short, “hm?”

“Can we talk.. please?”

No matter how upset, or annoyed Pau maybe be, he couldn’t resist the pleading tone in your voice. “I guess.” He answers, “what do you want to talk about?”

“Why you’re upset with me. I mean, before our argument. Clearly I did something to hurt you, or maybe you just..” Your voice fades into nothing, scared to speak.

“Just what?” He doesn’t comment on the parts before that, so you know you definitely did something wrong.

You pick at the lace harder, “I know it’s probably me reaching, but, I just thought that maybe you are like—“ You were tripping over words, too embarrassed to speak them out loud. Forcing yourself to come clean, you take a breath, “maybe you were falling out of love.”

The car lurches to a halt, right at a red light. Pau’s head whips in your direction, “what? No! Jesus, baby, no! Not that! I love you, I do.”

His words of reassurance made you feel a sense of relief, but still, your theories about upsetting him were only becoming easier to believe. “I love you too, but, my question still stands. What did I do to upset you, and how do I make it right?”

As Pau begins to drive again, he sighs. “The other day, when we were having dinner with the guys and their girlfriends, why did you lean away from me when I tried to kiss you?”

You did that?

Genuine surprise takes over your face. “Wait, what did I do? Shit, Pau, I didn’t even realize.”

His bottom lip tugs between his teeth as he turns into your driveway. “Are you sure? Because it felt intentional.” His words had bite to them, whether he meant to or not.

“Seriously, I would’ve never done that intentionally. Is that why you’ve been so withdrawn?” You frown, leaning your head back against the headrest and unbuckling while Pau parks.

He nods shamefully, “sorry, I just got upset. I was being a dick when I should have just talked to you about it. I’m sorry.” He couldn’t meet your eyes, to annoyed with himself to face you.

“Pau.” You sigh out, “look at me.”

He does just that, meeting your eyes with a pained look. “I’m sorry.”

“I know. You can’t do this again, though.” You give him a warning tone, “and you owe me, big time.”

Nodding, Pau grabs your hand, giving it a tight squeeze. “After my next game, we should go on a date. Anywhere you want to go, i’ll take you.”

Tapping your chin, you ponder the idea. “How about a movie night? I want alone time, and you will be watching every movie I chose, got it? Oh, and please bring snacks.”

A smile forms on Pau’s lips, causing one to grown on yours. “Anything you want. Make a list, i’ll stop by the store on the way here.”

Sitting up and gathering your things, you nod. “Will do! Goodnight, I love you.”

“Goodnight, I love you.” Pau leans over, meeting your lips in a soft kiss.

likes , comments , and reblog’s are all appreciated. lmk if you’d like to be tagged in future pau posts.

DTS , @halfwayhearted @ar4ujos @sakashq @joaoflms @hrts4havertz @spidybaby @unx100to !

[dreamsarebutterflies]

I didn't mean this particular scene or by the end of the manga but BEFORE that obviously. Ranma's character development is never stopping and that's what I love the most about his character: he's willing to learn and I do believe he knows himself too. After all, you need to if you try to be a master of martial arts.

Independently of the curse itself, parental pressure played a role in this idea of what a man is supposed to be. First, Genma and his mother made a freaking pact to make a MAN™ out of him. The alternative is DEATH. That alone would put things into your teenage head.

Despite this, he inherited his mother's kindness and he's genuine. Those parts can be seen as feminine in the most traditional ways. He wasn't raised to expose these qualities to the world, which makes him awkward at times when he wants to be nice to Akane for example. To be fair, he turned out fine as far as traditional boys go. He can be a jerk but he's a good kid who has actual affection for all these crazy people coming at him and Akane. If they get into trouble or ask for his help, he'd probably assist them.

Ranma wishing to be a FULL man isnt something new but the reasons evolve as the story goes on. Not necessarily because he changes or because he meets new people but we, as an audience, learn more and more about him.

You cannot ignore that this kid who didn't see his mother for ten years and lived in his father's fear of disappointing her for the whole while he was cursed, deeply wished to cancel this part of him so he could get home and see his mother again (and get rid of one more threat to his life). This reason surely existed before she was introduced. Because, as you said, Ranma has no idea what a home is. His mother was initially home. Now, the idea of Home is Akane and what brought them to be together. You cannot tell me he didn't put it into his head, one way or another, that for him to deserve to stay there with her, he had to be a Man™.

Isn't an explicit notion but the simple fact that Ranma mentions getting back to Akane as he is here is a hint that he wanted to return to her as a complete man again at some point. So it was an objective as well until now. It's not insane to interpret it that way, because she believes in him and he learned not to disappoint. But it's okay if he fails this time because he knows that's not really what Akane needs or wants, she knows and accepts him as he is, entirely.

Now he even has a reason not to be selfish, unlike his father. If you stretch it, you can assume that Ranma breaking the curse has never been something that he wanted for himself, it was yet again all about what his parents wanted for him. What always shocked me when I started the show years ago was how docile he was in the first episode. Meeting Akane, he learnt to express himself more and was finally allowed to want and need things for himself. He didn't need to live in survival mode anymore, not just because he had a roof and free food but because people around him are not threatening him on a daily basis. Until then, he never had to make real decisions for himself. Akane gave him a safe space to be who he was and think outside of his parents' unrealistic expectations.

Also, that's just an idea but: Ranma seems to believe in breaking the curse to make Akane happy. I wonder if that's also a way to erase the primordial fight: he lied to her and pretended to be a girl on day 1. Before this event, Akane was very welcoming and nice to him. Probably the first person to act that way towards him in years, mind you. Perhaps it would be a way to make things right.

Martial arts are Ranma's life, but the training trips with Genma were more about survival. In a way, he doesn't start living until he finds a home with the Tendos, but even more, Akane is home. When he's at death's door, Akane is the one who brings him back. She is his will to live.

[itsa-me-lily]

First: How sfw/nsfw are we allowed to go with asks and whatnot, as well as stuff you won't write? I'm not intending on sending anything crazy, I just don't wanna cross boundaries

Second: Every guy in my family (minus one), married in or born in, is/was military, and I have heard that it's not uncommon for military spouses to cheat on their partner, especially when deployed. I'm not saying dear reader is cheating or anything of the sort, but I could def see some fresh dumbass recruits trying to pull the legendary Lieutenant's wife, if only for bragging rights. Curious how that would shake out (would the recruits ever be seen again, who knows!)

TLDR for the first part, I'm okay with NSFW asks and you can find my list of no goes (as well as the master list for Military Program Spouse) here

Now for the second part

Content Warning; Discussion of size (kind of), discussions of cheating (kind of) (please let me know if I'm missing anything)

Also Reader is fat, like size 18/20 pants, like there's a jiggle no matter what she's doing (remember kids fat isn't a dirty word what size you are doesn't define your morality, your actions do)

Also also please know that my brain does not want to let go of Reader telling Simon "well we wouldn't be in this situation if you could pull bitches" but I don't think it's going to fit in this

Honestly the sex talk had gone better than you had anticipated. In the past when you had tried to explain being demisexual and what that meant for your sexual attraction to other people you'd gotten blank stares, been told you were just picky or that you were just talking about a crush that everyone got. You knew it wasn't, but it got old fast. And while Simon stared as you explained yourself, he didn't push or tell you that it was some new made up sexuality.

It was refreshing.

You weren't even that offended when Simon had stated he had no interest of sleeping with you. You'd come to accept that you weren't everyone's cup of tea, not everyone liked a little jiggle in the wiggle. So you'd be two people who legally shared the last name, roommates, broskis if you will.

You'd agreed that any extramarital activities had to be respectful, discreet, and that if it turned serious divorce was an option on the table. Or well, you listed out your ideas in what you thought was a logical manner and Simon just listened before grunting what you thought was an affirmative and then turning on the TV for some sort of sports game. You were a theater kid growing up, you weren't a fan of sport ball. So the two of you started your married lives with the ever perpetual hall pass.

Not that you ever used yours. Again there was the fact that you only felt any real attraction or desire once you had gotten to know someone, felt a connection that...intrigued your soul for lack of better phrasing. And you are a very self sufficient woman. People weren't typically banging down your door to...well bang, so really you just went about your days.

It was probably why you hadn't noticed the recruit flirting with you at first. At first it was just a polite nod and acknowledgement of who you were when you had to come to base to fill out paperwork. Then there were the times you'd run into him while walking through the neighborhoods. Private (or was he Second Private? You never really paid attention) Pearson was alright, a pretty boy who seemed to know it, given how he seemed to preen with attention once you caught on to what was happening. Yeah he was alright but nothing that really wanted to make you deal with the headache of dealing with two men in your life. Plus you were pretty sure he had mentioned something about working with Simon? You were not a person who shit where you ate.

So you played dumb when he tried to flirt with you, and never took him up on any offers to 'help' you around the house or to show you how to use the gym equipment, after hours of course. The cockiest had to have been when he offered to help you 'stretch' any time. The smile he wore when he offered that one was so slimy you felt like you needed a shower after.

It all came to a head one day in the mailroom. Somehow a random package had been delivered to the house instead of on base, and since Simon was out doing god knows what somewhere in the world it wasn't like he could take it with him. So you were doing your good deed of the day and dropping it off. Only to run into Pearson, who was with friends...even better.

You had tried to just smile politely and wave, acting like you were in the middle of running Very Important Errands. It didn't help much. Pearson and Co still came up to you like you were all the best of friends, Pearson even being so bold as to drape an arm across your shoulders, or he tried you. You side stepped him easily enough to his annoyance.

You lightly chit chatted, looking for an opening to excuse yourself. You'd be blunt if you had to, but you really didn't want to deal with any back lash for being a 'bitch'. Though maybe you should have. He must have sensed your deep rooted desire to get the fuck out of there, because Pearson put on the grosses looking grin, leaning in as if to share a secret.

"The boys and I were going to go out for some drinks tonight. Why don't you come with us? Promise we don't bite."

The last part was whispered liked it was a promise of the opposite. You honestly wanted to barf. A) Drinking wasn't really your scene. B) Pearson definitely wasn't your scene.

"As tempting as that sounds, sorry boys. I uh- I don't drink."

"Oh come on pretty girl, one drink won't hurt you."

You wanted to roll your eyes as Pearson tried to tempt you out, reaching to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. Thankfully you had heard little rumors that maybe the 141 was coming home. Simon wouldn't mind you using him as an excuse...probably.

"Really I can't. Simon should be coming home soon and I still have things I want to take care of before he's back."

Maybe it was the threat of their CO being back that caused all of them to freeze for a moment, giving you the opening to slip out from their little triangle they made, making your way to the exit. Pearson must have really been desperate, or just that stupid to practically shout after you.

"Come on, you really can't enjoy him more than me right? Doubt he's really all that great and impressive."

Oh that stopped you in your tracks. Simon Riley was a lot of things, annoying, stubborn, an asshole, rude, louder than the fucking heavens when he snored, a person who didn't care if he used up all the hot water, one could even say he was creepy at times. He didn't open up about things, and acted like socializing was the bane of his existence.

He had a sense of humor that people seldom understood, but he still entertained himself. Scared you half to death dozens of times over with how fucking quiet he was, like he was appearing out of thin air, but he'd try to knock to catch your attention if you were in the bedroom or bathroom. Had what was probably a herculean amount of strength in a single bear paw of his, but you'd seen him try to offer a finger for Tombo to sniff when the little curly mop got curious.

You plastered on the biggest polite smile you had, the one that boarder lined on looking a little crazy with how much it stretched your mouth, and spun on your feet to look at the trio of men who really tried to try you this day.

"You all know my husband."

You didn't actually wait for a response as you walked back to the men, who all started to look like they were regretting their choices.

"Lieutenant Riley. You know, Lieutenant "built like a brick shit house" Riley."

You stopped directly in front of Pearson, hands on your hips as you met his stare straight on, before looking him up and down slowly.

"Really what makes you think you can...measure up?"

The scrunch of your face at the end made it very clear that you had decided that the younger man was severely 'lacking' when it came to any kind of measuring. Clearly none of them had expected you to react like this, given that they just stared gobsmacked as you shrugged and waved them good bye with the tips of your fingers, happily making a sassy exit to your freedom.

Simon Riley was a lot of things, and he was your husband. And no one talked shit about your husband except you.

Edit;

There's a second part I want to add to this that I'll probably work on this weekend. I'm very out of the habit of writing so it takes me a hot minute to get stuff down the way I want it. Anyway I hope you like this! And remember

A) Being Fat doesn't make you good or bad

B) I am a greedy greedy goblin who loves getting asks

[batfambrainrotbeloved]

More DSB headcanons (because I wanna)

- Cardinal is either surprisingly docile or incredibly violent with criminals/rogues/villains. No in between

- Tim will just mail random shit to people he doesn't like (rats to Ra's, roaches to Lex, a card that tells the Joker to "fuck off and die in an alley")

- He has run into Lady Shiva at some point and has surprised her with the fact that he knows some of her moves (idk if you know but he trained with Lady Shiva for a little bit in canon)

- His accent switches on occasion to something totally random

- He gets weirdly calm during rogue attacks, and it freaks the Batfam out because "how the fuck can this bratty rich kid do this so well???"

- Not specifically DSB but he plays Project Sekai because it helps with hand eye coordination

-🎭☕

(no this is definitely not because I saw the post that you had 11 asks and I wanna change that)

OHH Love these- and thank you for filling my ask box, always appreciated <333 ____________________

True! Though Cardinal doesn't actually deal with rouges as often (the bats are always quick to cover that front and they try not to cross work paths unless nessicary, aka why the riddler fight was so far "from the usual") They are the silent hand behind the scene, and the ocassional "ghost of christmas future" like with Arthur.

The most "docile" Cardinal is, is towards Catwoman where they will pop in on her mid robbery, just stare for a sec- and then dip. And the most agressive probably with Black Mask/Joker (which yall will see eventually :) ______________________

Not something I considered before, and id say Tim has definently fucked with old foes for the hell of it- BUT he does specifically avoid anything close to the leauge, The last thing he wants is to be on Ra's radar on top of all the other bs he deals with.

But mailing bananna cream pies with small explosives to a joker hideout?? Yes. ________________________

YES- I actually touched on this a little bit (the training not the meeting) but I do think they've run into eachother. But that Shiva, unlike most of the other villains/antagonistic characters- seeing behind the mask? She was interested- but left it alone

MUCH to Tims utter relief. __________________________

Yes. Elaboration not needed, though I will say he rarely slips up when hes "in the zone" but relaxed?? You best believe he's suddenly french ________________________________

Actually? Kind of normal for Gotham- I find it wild that growing up in a city with like a 40000% higher than natioal adv crime rate, that you ARENT in some way numb to it all.

Its less common in the elite because well, they have money to stay away from it all. But its not TOO out there- its just that "Huh guess Timothy is one of us more than we thought??- wild" _____________________________

Tim is like me in the sense of "cant-play-games-alone" or else painfully aware of every milisecond ticking by that you arent being "productive" (exception being minecraft)

But game night @ Obis?? You best believe that Alan is a GOD at beat saber, and show him Project Sekai??? Hes going to make it a personal challenge ____________________________

[kryptznnn]

Can't get this off my headdd!! Katsuki having a partner with a snow leapard quirk that gives them the appearance of ofc a snow leapard and also have like an ice quirk?? How would he react to that? You can write it on how you like I just want to be fed😋😋

��- Different

⋆༺𓆩⚔𓆪༻⋆⋆༺𓆩⚔𓆪༻⋆

⋆༺𓆩⚔𓆪༻⋆⋆༺𓆩⚔𓆪༻⋆

➸ INTERESTS; -mha! katsuki bakugo x f! quirk using reader

➸ BACKGROUND; - (requested submission) Fascinating was probably the best word to use for you when describing what you were. For Katsuki it was perfect, you were perfect, it's as if there were so many great qualities your quirk had given you his curiosity had grown into affection. He hadn't mind watching and studying you from afar, but when he felt a distance come between you two, he took action.

➸ WARNINGS; - wc. 1.5k, fluff, romantic tension, observing lover, indecisiveness, romantic confusion, kissing, friends to lovers' kind of trope.

➸a.i; - I know this is short and im so sorry ugh, i really enjoyed writing this though, I hope you enjoy it!!

⋆༺𓆩⚔𓆪༻⋆⋆༺𓆩⚔𓆪༻⋆⋆༺𓆩⚔𓆪༻⋆

Maybe his peers were right about you prior to getting close with you. He had heard about you, your features and your quirk being the reason why you seemed that way. He knew your features and personality sounded familiar as someone from his past, but when you walked into his class, he knew exactly who you were.

Y/n L/n, he had known you prior as a child, before you had moved away after being bullied for your quirk and appearance. He never hated it though, he always found it appealing. He had always been drawn to you out of curiosity by it, looking like an exotic animal.

The way your eyes flashed with different colors, popping out as the black lining around your eyes was sharp, your inner corners and waterline dark. He could tell you had applied some makeup to hide majority of the spots and patterns that decorated your face, but he didn’t like it.

He liked being able to see your entire face, and for the most part as he knew your quirk had been in effect for as long as you wanted. As the patterns took effect onto your skin it hadn’t changed the fact that the word snow within snow leopard was literal, also able to control it.

Overtime the two of you went from exchanging small glances in class to actually speaking to one another, as your friend groups clashed. He was happy to say the least, and his friends could tell from how he acted around you. Katsuki was quiet and focused on what you would do, treading carefully and even doing as much to not curse around you, making you laugh every time.

He never really liked looking into your feline-like eyes, it felt as if he was falling into a trap or unknown territory. Even if it was something simple as you waving or smiling at him with your eyes he would look away, his head resting on his hand before smiling softly. His favorite thing about when you would laugh, or smile because your canines would poke out and your ears would flap around.

He took into deep account everything about your physical appearance, studying the way you talked, walked, and even fought in battle. He couldn’t deny you were very flexible and strong, let alone when you used your ice type powers within practice.

What he wasn’t fond of was the fact that it seemed your relationship with him was becoming distant as you began studying with Todoroki. He understood why the two of you were close and had no other reason to study with one another as you shared similar quirks, but the feeling didn’t sit right with him.

He felt as if he was running out of time with you before things had even properly begun. He cherished the small times you two spent together alone, hoping you felt the same way. The times everyone would go out as a group and the two of you trailed behind as you spoke of everyone else, good and bad. He would say or do anything to make you laugh, seeing your canines or how your patterns crinkled slightly up to your eyes, you looked pretty-

No, you looked beautiful to him. The same type of way he watches his parents interact with one another and his father showers and serenades his mother with compliments such as ‘beautiful’ or ‘gorgeous’, maybe even ethereal. He was never sure on how to show you or tell you the way he felt, or the way he wanted you to see yourself how he did.

He had always thought that repeating the same things his father did was cringey, and how you spoke of cringey stuff all of the time there was no way he could set himself up. It seemed as if it was suicide if he even thought of doing so, so when he mustered up the courage to tell you it had apparently been too late.

You cancelled on him last minute as you were supposed to train with Todoroki, again. As you always had nearly twice a week every day for the past 2 months. It drove him insane truly, he hadn’t liked Todoroki any better beforehand and now it seemed to have gotten worse. Even when you all hung out as a group you were quick to speak about what you had practiced or learned from him.

It had kept everything within Katsuki to not cause a fuss and blow up in everyone’s faces, literally. He would just leave without explanation every time, going out and taking a breather before going straight to his room and going to bed. The best part of him was that everyone knew he wasn’t going to just give up or forget about you, one thing he loved more than being stubborn was a fight, and it wasn’t hard fighting for you if he knew he was set to win.

So, when you made it known to him you were free for the day and had nothing to do, he nearly jumped out of bed. Quickly getting ready and damn near sprinting out of his room, making his way to yours. Clearing his throat and taking a deep breath before knocking on your door.

He was nervous, for some odd reason, he never had been before, not for anything. So then why was he so nervous when it came to you? You were his friend, as he was yours, and he just wanted to tell you how appealing you are to him and that you were very nice. Friends don’t do or say the things he wishes to do or say to you though, silly him or not knowing that already.

You were quick to welcome him inside, opening the door fully as you stood at its side from inside as he made his way inside. You ushered him to the small decor you had in the center of your room past the bathroom, a large fuzzy carpet for the two of you to sit on. You were quick to speak first engaging in conversation between the two of you. He had barely answered, only taking in your figure and body features as you spoke.

When you were speaking about something you were passionate about you spoke quickly, your tail moving rather rapidly behind you as your ears never perked lower. You would speak with your hands too, as if reliving the moment as you wanted him to understand it better.

He thought to himself he must’ve looked crazy just staring at you while nodding, not even smiling or laughing at your remarks. He was focused on your words and actions yes, but he was also thinking about what he was going to say to you. Thinking to be gentle and sincere with you when he began until you began to speak of your training with Todoroki.

“And it was so funny because he fell and-“

“You talk about him a lot.” He deadpanned, now cutting off your statement as he really didn’t want to hear any further of him. You stopped and looked him in the eyes now, raising an eyebrow.

“He’s my friend, and we train all of the time with one another.” You said, now looking away at Katsuki’s intense eye contact. You weren’t used to it in all honesty, usually he was quick to pull away or look away from you, now things had changed.

“I’m your friend too, right? Do you talk about me a lot too?” He asked, his hands planted behind him as he sat with his legs crossed, his eyes never leaving your as he moved in closer. You backed your head away slightly, taking in his subtle flirty tone and looked away, your ears flattening slowly as your lip perked to the side.

“Yes” you said in a hushed tone, now looking down into your lap as your tail had remained still, the patterned prints and thin fur on your face now being tainted with a shade of pink. He took in your expression with a surprised look, as he had never seen this expression before.

It must have been embarrassment, or maybe you liked him. Whatever it was he wasn’t going to let the opportunity pass, as now seemed like the perfect time to do what he wanted too. More like what he needed too, it was like a nagging feeling in his stomach and chest telling him too.

Without a second thought as you picked up your head he leaned in and kissed you. After a couple of seconds, he pulled back, looking at your shocked expression. He was going to apologize, but as he opened his mouth a split second later you had already jumped back onto him, kissing him back.

His hand was quick to make its way to the center of your back, giving you support as he nearly toppled over. You soon broke the kiss after he had kissed you back, looking at him with a large smile, your canines showing.

"I think you're a lot more to me than just a friend."

⋆༺𓆩⚔𓆪༻⋆⋆༺𓆩⚔𓆪༻⋆⋆༺𓆩⚔𓆪༻⋆

✴🕷 please do not copy, plagiarize, edit, or translate any works submitted by me. all works are originated and all other pictures used within those works are online images. thank you!! @kryptznnn

[levis-poison-is-my-medicine]

Cat-Levi

(The Tea Lovers Pt. 6)

A Levi x reader fanfic

Crossposted from AO3

A/n: New chapter alert!

tags: fluff and humor, silly and sweet, tea-obsessed fem!reader with their head in the clouds (word count: 2.2k)

(Part one) / (Levi x reader Masterlist)

The office door fell shut with a clang. Levi tossed the envelope onto the desk, then turned around to face you. You expected him to scold you, but he said nothing. He just stood there and stared at you, one foot tapping the floor in an irritated manner, like he was waiting for something. The silence was hard for you to bear.

"So I take it the drawings are not to your liking, then?" you asked tentatively.

"Now what gave you that impression?" he deadpanned.

"Maybe the way you immediately ordered me into your office after seeing them? Though I guess it could also be to express admiration for my outstanding artistry in private…"

"Certainly not," he huffed. He was scowling again.

"Didn't think so," you murmured. So much for lightening the mood. He really was angry, after all. Maybe you should work on defending yourself.

"You asked to see them, I gave them to you. I did exactly as you told me. So what's the problem, exactly? I can't read your mind."

"Tch," he made. "Guess I need to spell it out for you."

"That would be nice," you said. Though you could already imagine what it was.

"The problem is…this." He pulled out the topmost drawing from the envelope and pushed it in your direction without looking at it. "Why am I like that?"

You gave it a quick glance. He was leaning against the wall, one hand up in his hair, making his bared chest muscles stretch. You had put a lot of attention to detail in there, so you were quite proud of it.

"Shirtless, you mean?"

He nodded, his jaw tense.

"It's a very popular theme with the ladies. I already told you these were all commissions. They want to see what you look like underneath your uniform."

He scoffed. "That's none of their business. Besides, how would you know? You've never even seen me shirtless."

"You are right, I haven't, so there might be some inaccuracies. I'm usually really meticulous, so this has been bothering me for a while, if you must know. I think I got the muscles about right, in fact I really put my heart into those abs...but you probably have some scars that I don't know about, right? Why don't you show me?"

You looked at him expectantly, your curiosity getting the better of you.

"What?!" he asked, dumbfounded. He even forgot to scowl for a moment. "Please? Just a quick peek?"

"No."

"I just want to know if I got it right," you pouted. "At least tell me."

"No."

"Then don't complain if the drawings aren't perfect next time."

His eyes narrowed. "There won't be a next time."

"Right," you mumbled. "I know."

"You apparently don't."

"These really were just drawings I had left from before. What was I supposed to do with them? Burn them?"

"Yes," Levi said.

"Do they really make you that uncomfortable?" you asked.

"They do."

"Okay," you said. "I'll burn them. They make you uncomfortable, so I'll burn them all. Satisfied?"

Levi didn't say anything. He just glared at you, arms crossed over his chest. You could tell he was still mad.

"I am sorry," you said softly.

He nodded. "When you're done burning those drawings, clean the stables. Be thorough. I'll check."

"What? That's gonna take so long!"

"This is nonnegotiable."

"But–"

"You're not happy with your punishment?" he asked with raised eyebrows.

You nodded furiously. "I don't think it's fair." "Fine. After the stables, you will now also do the women's barracks. Not just your room, but all of them."

Your eyes grew big. "You can't even check those," you muttered defiantly.

"I'll ask someone to do it for me. You're lucky, they probably won't have the same standards."

"This is impossible to do in a day," you pouted. "Not that I'm not happy with the punishment. 'Cause I am," you added quickly. You didn't want him to come up with more.

"You have all week," Levi said. He almost sounded amused. His face was back to his usual cool expression.

"Deal." You took the envelope with the drawings from the table, then hesitated, biting your lip. "Levi?"

"Yeah?"

"We'll still have teatime later, right?"

"Of course. Don't be an idiot."

You breathed a sigh of relief.

– –

"Of course he would need to have black, shiny fur", you giggled to yourself as you sat hunched over a piece of paper in a quiet corner of Hange's lab, adding some sparkles to show just how clean it was.

Instead of watching over a very slow, probably very important experiment, like you were supposed to, you were completely absorbed in perfecting your current drawing, which depicted a somewhat irritated-looking cat. Naturally, it wasn't just any cat. You were trying to capture the very essence of Levi Ackerman, distilling it into the shape of the animal on the paper in front of you.

This was your latest plan to get around his order which banned you from making or selling drawings of him. You had to be extra careful after he had chewed you out last time. You'd never seen him so mad. Well, it certainly hadn't helped when you asked him to take off his shirt. He had you scrubbing floors for all of last week. You were finally done with it, and you certainly had no desire to repeat that anytime soon. But you still found it impossible not to wonder whether your portrayal of him had been accurate. (Maybe he'd show you when he wasn't so mad.)

"Don't look at me like that", you mumbled to Cat-Levi, suddenly feeling a little guilty under his reproachful gaze.

"Don't you know I'm doing this all for you?"

If you wanted to be able to afford Levi's birthday present, you had no choice but to resort to methods like these. Surely he would understand. Better yet, he would never find out in the first place.

You nodded at the picture, satisfied. It was still in its draft stage, but it was getting there. In fact, it was kind of cute, and the longer you looked at it, the cuter it became.

"You're so precious," you gushed. "I wish you were real." Your face broke into a massive grin as you imagined what Cat-Levi would actually be like.

Chortling, you started to scribble a list of traits underneath it.

Smol

You don't choose him. He chooses you.

Perpetually grumpy (secretly a big softie but likes to keep the people around him on their toes)

Hits you with his cute little paws when you disturb him while he's sleeping

Hits you when you try to pet him without his permission

If he wants pets, he approaches you first. Then you have to give him attention. If you don't - you guessed it - he'll pout and hit you (with a cute little paw of course)

Is not afraid to draw blood (but with his special chosen person, he hits them paw only without any claws)

Others when they disturb them? They get it bad.

Did I already mention his cute little paws?

Cleanly as fuck. Don't disturb him while he's grooming himself. He will be your enemy.

Has trouble sleeping but when his chosen person is there with him he can relax

Hates being picked up. It makes him feel smol. Never make him feel smol.

Looves head scritches

Loves gourmet cat food. He's a luxury babe. (But if it comes from his favorite person, he will accept anything they feed him.)

You were so immersed in your writing that you didn't even notice Levi leaning in the doorway.

He watched you as you sat in front of the bubbling flasks, bent over your notes, your face hidden behind a curtain of your hair. Your pen was scratching furiously over the paper, exuding an air of productivity and concentration. He was almost impressed.

Then you giggled.

All of his illusions were shattered in an instant. Clearly, you were doing anything but working.

He approached you with a scowl on his face, already suspecting the worst.

"Are you drawing me again?"

You looked up, startled at the sudden presence, but your wide grin remained in place.

"Nooo! It's just a cat. Not everything's about you, you know."

You ostentatiously pushed the drawing over to him, trying to show him that you had nothing to hide. "See?"

Levi peered down at the cat which sat there with a wrinkled nose, its irritated gaze mirroring his own.

"Tch."

Your smile grew even wider. "Buut, now that you're here…lend me a hand, will you? I need help coming up with a name for this cat! What would you name him?"

You held out the drawing to him. He didn't take it. "Shouldn't you be working?" He motioned to the experiment set up in front of you.

"Ah, that," you said, like you had only just remembered it. "Nothing's been happening for the past three hours. I think it's a bust." You extended your hand even further, waggling the sheet of paper right under his nose.

"Come on, it will only take a second. Then I will get back to watching this thing like a hawk, I promise!"

Levi begrudgingly accepted the drawing and read the notes with raised eyebrows. "Who would even like this cat?"

You gasped, clutching at your chest in horror. "Excuse me? I do! Everyone does. He's precious, okay? You wouldn't know true cuteness even if it hit you in the face."

"I think I would," he said, giving you a glance.

"Obviously not. He's like, the definition of cute." You were pouting. "So, did you come up with a name?"

"Hellspawn," he said dryly.

"Noo, that's so mean! That's not even a real name."

"Fine." Levi sighed. He was quiet for a while, thinking. You looked at him expectantly.

"Herbert," he said finally, his tone serious.

You burst out laughing.

"What?" He frowned. "You wanted a real name. I gave you one."

"No, no, it's great, really. You're absolutely right," you tried to appease him.

"Herbert it is then."

Of course, this was just his undercover name. He would always be a Levi to you.

You took the paper from him and added a bowl, lovingly writing 'Herbert' on it in cursive letters.

When you were done, Levi was still standing there with his arms crossed.

You shot him a questioning look. "So, why did you come here? Did you want something?"

"Just wondering why you were late."

"Late?" You took out your pocket watch. It was just after 4 o'clock. "Oh, it's teatime already? I can't believe I almost missed it! I totally lost track of time." You jumped up from your seat. "Let's go!"

"What happened to watching your experiment with hawk eyes?"

You winced, visibly deflated as the excitement drained from your body. "You're right", you mumbled. "I did say that…" Why had you promised that, again?

You slumped back into the chair, eyes fixed on the flasks. They were still bubbling happily, almost as if they were mocking you.

Hange had told you to watch the experiment until they got back. It had seemed easy enough, while also giving you the perfect excuse to get out of today's training. You just never would've imagined they'd take this long.

"Go on without me…" you said in a dramatic, choked up voice.

Levi snorted. He pulled up a chair. "Don't be stupid. You'll get withdrawal symptoms." He knew how you got when you didn't have your afternoon tea. It wasn't pretty.

"These your notes?" He pointed at the lab journal.

You stared at him. It certainly looked like he was offering to watch the experiment for you. But that couldn't be right. You had to be dreaming again. Or hallucinating. It had been a while since you'd had your last tea. Maybe these were some new withdrawal symptoms? Still, you had to make sure.

"Don't tell me… You would give up on teatime for me?"

"Go before I change my mind."

"Wow. For real? Thank you!" You beamed at him. "I'm honestly so touched. You're the best, you know that? The best!"

You bent forward to give him a little kiss on the cheek. His eyes widened.

"I really don't know what I'd do without you," you went on, still smiling cheerfully, before getting up from your chair.

Levi cleared his throat. He wasn't looking at you. "I have work to do. So don't take too long."

"Of course not," you reassured him. "I'll be right back. You won't even notice I was gone."

He rolled his eyes. That was a blatant lie. You always took your time with tea, savoring every last drop.

You were already at the door when you suddenly turned back around.

"I just want you to know…"

"What?" Levi asked.

"I'll never forget your glorious sacrifice," you declared solemnly.

Before he could answer, you were already out the door.

Levi looked after you, absently bringing a hand up to his cheek.

"Tch. Always so dramatic," he grumbled to himself, but his gaze was soft.

Tag list: @thechaoticarchivist, @mmm-alhaitham, @nironasaran, @leviiheichou, @huffleruffplant, @shutupp1, @iifrui, @shakysif, @ickearmn

[foodtruckery]

Okay noncon thoughts about ford forcing himself onto fem!stan after the science fair incident, it isn't more so intentional but in an act of rage, it's rough and merciless, with hard thrusts. Fem! Stan initially attempts to fights it off at first but later just gives in it as it would be useless and she technically "deserves this" or whatever lie she makes up to comfort herself in the moment

Cue the post nut clarity hits and stanford is either a) deeply disgusted/horrified at himself and regrets it immensely, after all, no matter what- that's still his little sister or b) literally does not regret it at all and is finally glad he could be open about his desire for fem!stan

(Please ignore or delete this ask, if you aren't comfortable with noncon aaaa, I'm so sorry if this was unwanted)

hello anon! not uncomfortable with noncon, so no worries there, but i appreciate you checking! but! lol i will say that i do tend to be picky about the noncon stuff i consume and enjoy, and it's usually one of those things that has to be "right situation at the right time." and in typical me fashion, i uh. managed to talk my way into it! putting the rest of this rambling below a cut for anyone who is sensitive to this topic! <3

all of THAT being said, if we're looking at a scenario where we do get ford who kinda loses it, seeing red and wanting to put stan in her place, i think it's a lot more interesting if it's NOT the first time these feelings are out in the open. let's say, instead, that they've already crossed that line with each other. so at first, it isn't anything usual even. getting ford annoyed and riled up enough to want to be rougher than normal, pull out a little more of that possessive streak of his -- that's something stan's gotten good at. so that's what this must be, right? they're gonna fight about it and then they're gonna fuck about it, and then they're gonna get over it.

except ford is a lot angrier than usual. angrier than when she sneaks back in after curfew with with a new hickey and won't tell him who gave it to her, angrier than when she disappears halfway through a saturday shift in the shop and makes ford finish restocking by himself, angrier than the time ford had to come and pick her up from a bar she'd snuck into but got too drunk to make it home by herself -- angrier than she's ever actually seen him, maybe.

that's probably fine tho, right? she likes it when ford wants to manhandle her a bit, and when he gets worked up enough to growl the kinda lewd shit against her neck that's just a sexy cover for the fact that he gets jealous or worried. but he isn't saying anything now, actually, and it's kinda weird, the silence. they've stopped arguing and his hands are in all the places she usually likes, but the anxious anger from the fight isn't dissipating into lust and want like it usually does. ford isn't grinding his knuckles against her clit through her clothes and chewing on her ear in the way that that usually redirects all that energy into something to better spend it on. he's gripping too hard, being too pushy, and none of it actually feels good like it should. when she actually loses buttons off her goddamn shirt for how hard he tries to yank it open, she snaps at him, "jesus christ, stanford, at least try to be careful, will ya?"

and she's not at all prepared for how actually fucking angry and, worse, how cold he sounds when he responds. "like how you were careful with my project? shut the fuck up."

and suddenly this isn't about fucking it out, and it's not about letting off a little steam. and when when she goes to shove him, ford is. a lot heavier than she'd realized, actually. he doesn't rock easily back like she ususally does when she pushes him, and his grip is hard enough to bruise when he shoves her down. and it hadn't ever really occurred to stan before then that ford just...let her push him around when they were scuffling. that his time being forced into boxing lessons by their pa actually meant something on her scrawny nerd brother.

suddenly ford is threatening.

and suddenly she's afraid of him.

and stan is used to that feeling of fight or flight surging through her. usually through a her fist into some loser's face. but she's not at all used to feeling that way with ford. especially not like this, underneath him. and he's suddenly heavy and huge in ways that had always been nice and good. but they're not anymore, and it's the first time stan has ever felt the rush of fight or flight and just....frozen instead.

he doesn't even take her panties off, just yanks them to the side. and she knows she's liked that before, found it really hot even, but now all she can feel is how hard the material is cutting into her hips and thighs and how wet she isn't. and some of the fight does kick in, finally, when he pulls his dick out and she realizes, holy shit, she doesn't want this to happen. but he's already got her at a fucked up angle, crushed down against the mattress, out of reach of anything on the nightstand, the width of him pressing her thighs too far apart to get enough leverage to knee him as hard as she tries to.

that just makes him angrier, anyway, and she yelps when he grabs her by the thigh so hard she knows she's going to have six finger shaped bruises for days afterwards.

"shut up!" he hisses again, squeezing the already sore spots on her leg hard enough that she flinches and tries to jerk away, but the mattress doesn't give her any leeway -- it just dips and reshapes to support her exactly where she's at. "if anyone comes up here, i'll tell them you came on to me to try and make up for what you did. it is the least you could fucking do, after all."

and he's....right? she thinks? ford's the golden child, the eldest son, and she's always been too loud, too stupid, too shamelss, too fat, too her. they'd believe him. and maybe....maybe she does, too? this is how they've been handling all their fights, lately. most of them fights that she starts on purpose to get goad ford into fucking her. so....so maybe that is on her? for setting the precedent?

it all hurts, but maybe she deserves that, too.

there's a shitty little sketch of a sailboat on one of the wood slats holding ford's bed up above hers. it almost looks like it's the one moving.

after, ford climbs off of her, and the sailboat stops moving. she hears him cleaning himself up and getting changed, and she flinches when he climbs the ladder to his bed. but she doesn't peel herself off the sheets until she recognizes the slow, even cadence of his breaths from overhead that suggest he's fallen asleep.

it's probably the quietest she's ever moved around their room. usually, she doesn't care if ford hears her shuffling around. usually, she's hoping he'll notice.

now, she's careful not to make any noise at all. it's dark, which she appreciates when she's stripping out of her ruined shirt and stretched panties, but it means she doesn't know what she's grabbing to throw on instead. she doesn't really care as long as she's dressed again as quickly as possible, but she is grateful to find a sweater and jeans to pull on. nothing else she grabs out of the dresser gets a second glance, though. clothes just get pushed as quickly and as quietly as she can manage into the bottom of her bookbag, and she doesn't risk making additional noise by closing the drawers back up.

ford's bed squeaks, just once, when he shifts in his sleep, and stan nearly throws up on the carpet, gripping her bag so tightly it makes her hands hurt. the door is only a few steps away, but it feels like it takes forever to get there. the soft clicking of the handle have her heart in her throat, but ford doesn't move again, and the hall is silent when she slips out of his room. her shoes and her keys are downstairs, which is good, they'll be easy to grab. she wants desperately to shower. she wants to use all the hot water their ancient water heater can provide and then some. but she thinks that even if she could get it to spit out boiling water, it wouldn't be enough. she also thinks that if she goes into the hall bathroom now and closes the door, that she's going to fall apart, and she can't do that. not yet. instead, she sneaks downstairs the way she always has, skipping the creaky fourth step, dodging the table of tibetan singing bowls Ma uses for "ambiance." she doesn't even lace her shoes, just shoves her feet into the sneakers and grips her keys in a clenched fist to keep them from jangling. she feels the metal teeth digging into her palm and clenches harder. she doesn't breathe until she's behind the locked door of the El Diablo and three, going on four, five, six blocks up the street. she'll find a parking lot to pull into later, when she's out of town and can't keep the wheel straight anymore. she'll lose it there. she'll cry until she has to stumble out of the car and throw up, and she'll bloody her knuckles punching asphalt.

but for now she keeps a white knuckle grip on the steering wheel and drives and refuses to look when she passes the beach.

[brightlight-dazzlingeyes]

sympathy for the devil | ruben dias

🩸 synopsis: You've been working at your childhood dream club, Manchester United, for a few years, but the reality of chaos, mess, and constant changes is taking its toll. Lately, you’ve been finding comfort in an unexpected place – Rúben Dias, a player from your club's biggest rival. tags: established situationship, rivals-to-lovers, mention of smoking, sports drama, arguing, mutual pining. (written in 2nd person but no mention of yn) (around 3.3k words)

part 1

You slip out of the locker room the moment you can, making a shitty excuse. No one questions you – they’re all too wrapped up in the post-match high, riding the wave of a rare, dominant performance. You should be celebrating, but instead, there’s this sense of dread clawing at your gut.

You’ve been here a few years, but it feels like you’ve lived a lifetime of disappointment, false promises, and crushed hopes.

How many times can you start over before it breaks you?

You step outside, the heavy stadium door swinging shut behind you with a dull thud. It’s cold – November in Manchester always is – but you barely feel the chill as you fish a crumpled pack of cigarettes from your coat pocket. Your hands are shaking a little, either from the leftover adrenaline of the match or the exhaustion that’s been creeping in at the edges of your thoughts for months.

Your lighter flares, a small circle of warmth in the dark, and you inhale deeply, the nicotine sharp and bitter on your tongue. It doesn’t really calm you, but it’s something to do. A familiar habit, a routine that hasn’t changed even when everything else has. You lean back against the rough brick wall, your shoulders sagging, and close your eyes.

They’re all talking about him – the new guy. The Portuguese manager who’s exactly what the board thinks they need to clean up the mess. You’ve seen this cycle before. Another savior, another man with a plan. You’ve learned not to get too attached, not to trust the optimism that comes with each “new era.” You’re tired of being yanked along, like a hamster on a wheel, running in circles while everything around you stays the same.

You take another drag, feeling the smoke burn in your throat. It’s all physiological, you tell yourself. The anxiety, the repetition. It’s just your mind playing tricks on you. But it doesn’t change the fact that this new manager freaks you out. You’re not even sure why, maybe it’s because you know how these things go, or maybe it’s because there’s a chance you won’t even make it to the end of the season with your job intact.

High chances you won’t, if he decides to only work with his own people. Your role’s not exactly critical, and even if you’ve been here for years, that doesn’t make you untouchable. You’ve worked hard, you’ve kept your head down, you’ve given everything you had to this club, but it might not be enough. It never seems to be enough.

You flick ash off the cigarette, eyes unfocused as you stare out over the parking lot, empty except for a few scattered cars. Somewhere deep inside, there’s a tiny bit of relief at the win, but it’s buried under layers of exhaustion and anxiety.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, but you ignore it. It’s probably Ruben, your Ruben, the one you should have nothing to do with. You’ll deal with that later. Right now, all you want is five more minutes of peace before you have to go back in, put on a smile, and pretend like you’re ready for whatever comes next.

Because Monday’s coming fast, and you know what that means – another fresh start. Another clean slate. Another spin on the wheel.

You stub out your cigarette on the concrete and crush the butt beneath your heel, exhaling one last cloud of smoke.

part 2

You show up at his place later than planned, you told yourself you wouldn’t let work bleed into this, but it’s impossible not to carry it with you. You know you’re dragging that weight into Ruben’s apartment the moment you cross the threshold.

You toss your bag next to the door and kick off your shoes, feeling the tension in your muscles. The sight of him, the comfort of his place – it should feel like a break from the chaos, but tonight it doesn’t.

You exchange a quick greeting, the kind that’s little more than habit by now, and settle next to him on the couch. It’s not awkward exactly, but there’s a distance between you tonight. He looks tired – more tired than you’ve seen him in a long time. 

“Hey,” you say, nudging his knee with yours, trying to draw out something, anything. “How’s the leg?”

He shrugs, not taking his eyes off his phone. “Better,” he says. “Physio says I’ll be fine in a couple weeks.”

That’s all you get. No sarcastic comment, no playful complaint about how much he hates sitting out. He just goes back to scrolling, and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. You were expecting him to be in a mood – City’s been struggling lately, and the timing of his injury couldn’t be worse. But still, it’s strange, the way he’s shut down. You fall back into the cushions and pull out your own phone, scrolling through Instagram.

When this started a year ago, it was never like this – there was no room for awkward silence or distractions. It was just heat and hands, tearing at each other like you couldn’t get enough. Now, there’s a lot more of this – just spending time together, filling the quiet with the small, mundane things.

Most of the time, you don’t mind. Most of the time, it’s kind of nice, this understanding you’ve built. But tonight, you feel like the air’s too thick, and it’s bothering you. You scroll aimlessly, barely paying attention to what you’re seeing, and it’s only when you hear the soft thud of his phone dropping onto the couch that you look up.

He’s staring at you, his brows drawn together in frustration, like he’s been holding back for as long as he can. “Have you been smoking again?” he asks suddenly, and the question catches you off guard.

Your stomach twists, but you keep your expression blank, fingers still moving on the screen as if you didn’t hear him. “And what does that have to do with you?” you ask, voice flat and dismissive, not even bothering to look up.

It’s a low blow, and you know it. But you’re not in the mood to be called out, not by him, not tonight. He’s watching you from the other side of the couch, jaw clenched, eyes narrowed in that way that tells you he’s annoyed but trying to keep a lid on it. You don’t bite. Instead, you scroll past another filtered photo of someone’s perfect life.

“What does it have to do with me?” he echoes, his voice low and tense. “Maybe because you said you were done with that. Maybe because it’s not good for you.”

You still don’t look up. It’s not that you don’t care; part of you does. He just doesn’t get it. Nobody does. The exhaustion, the stress of working at a club that feels like it’s constantly collapsing in on itself. It’s just a cigarette. It’s not like it’s going to fix anything, but it’s something. One small moment of control when everything else is spiraling.

“Yeah, well,” you mutter, tapping aimlessly through stories you don’t even care about, “things change.”

He sighs, and you hear the frustration in that exhale with the way it rushes out of him. He shifts on the couch, one knee pressing into the cushion, body leaning closer. “You’re just going to ignore me?”

You finally look up, locking eyes with him, and it’s like you’re seeing him clearly for the first time all night. There’s a heat behind his eyes that you’ve seen a hundred times before, but this time a bit different. Angrier. More desperate. You almost want to ask him why he cares so much, but you know the answer would be another fight.

He’s never been good at hiding his feelings, not when he’s like this, wounded in ways he doesn’t want to show. It’s not just his injury, or the losses, or the fact that he’s benched while everyone else heads off for international break. It’s all of it, pressing down on him like the weight of a season that’s already going wrong, even though it’s barely November.

“What’s going on with you?” you ask, more to break the silence than because you really want to know. It comes out sharper than you mean it to, and you see the way his expression shutters, defenses slamming back into place.

“What’s going on with me?” He lets out a harsh laugh, running a hand through his hair, tugging at the roots. “What’s going on with you? It’s like you’re not even here anymore. We barely talk unless it’s about–” He stops himself, cutting off whatever he was about to say.

“Unless it’s about what?” you snap, putting your phone down. It’s an instinct, this need to go on the offensive before he can twist the knife any deeper. “About football? About how fucked up everything is at my job? Or about how you get to sit around feeling sorry for yourself because your team is losing for once?”

The second the words are out, you regret them. You can see the hurt flash in his eyes, quick as a blink but unmistakable. You’ve seen him pissed off before, plenty of times, but not like this.

He nods slowly, like he’s forcing himself to accept what you’ve just thrown at him. “Wow,” he says, his voice low and dangerous, “I didn’t realize we were keeping score.”

“It’s not about that,” you say quickly, too quickly, the words tripping over themselves as you try to reel them back. “I’m just–fuck, I don’t know. I’m tired, Ruben. I’m so tired of everything.”

He looks at you for a long time, his eyes searching, trying to figure out if you’re lying or if this is just another one of the walls you throw up when you don’t want to deal with the truth. You can almost see the moment he decides it’s not worth fighting. He leans back, sinking into the couch cushions, and picks up his phone without another word.

The silence stretches out between you, and this time it’s suffocating. You pick up your own phone, but the Instagram feed blurs in front of you. You can’t focus, can’t even remember what you were looking at before he interrupted. You’re both here, sitting less than two feet apart, but it’s like a wall has gone up between you, solid and impenetrable.

“I should leave,” you say, standing up and running a hand through your hair, trying to steady the tremble in your voice. “In fact, I shouldn’t come here when I’m in a bad mood.”

He doesn’t even look at you at first. Then, when he does, his eyes are full of –  it’s either anger or disappointment, maybe both. “That was never a problem before,” he says, each word adorned with a bitterness that catches you off guard. “But yeah, maybe you should leave.”

You don’t know what to say, so you don’t say anything. You just grab your bag from the floor, fingers clenching the strap so tight it’s a wonder the leather doesn’t tear. There’s a part of you that wants to drop the bag, to sit back down, to tell him you didn’t mean it – that you’re sorry, that you’re just so fucking tired of pretending that everything’s fine when it’s not. But you can’t. 

“I’ll call you,” you say, even though you both know it’s a lie. You can hear the emptiness in your own voice, and the way he laughs without any humor just twists the knife deeper.

“You won’t,” he says, his tone harsh, too raw, and you see the hurt behind it, the way he’s holding himself together by a thread. “But that’s fine.”

You hesitate, just for a second, standing there in the doorway with one hand on the knob, caught in that familiar push-and-pull of wanting to fix this and wanting to run away before you make it worse. He’s watching you, eyes unblinking, like he’s daring you to stay, and you hate him a little for that – hate him for caring when you don’t know how to anymore.

But you don’t stay. You close the door softly behind you, the click of the latch sounding too final in the quiet apartment. The weight of your bag feels heavier than it should as you make your way out into the cool night air, and you tell yourself you’ll call him tomorrow. You’ll apologize, explain, make it right. But the truth is, you don’t even know if you have the energy to try.

You know, deep down, that he’s right. You probably won’t call.

part 3

It hits you the next morning, sharp and sudden, like a punch to the gut. You wake up too early, tangled in your sheets, and the first thought that drags itself out of the haze is him. It shouldn't feel this intense, shouldn't have you wide-eyed and shivering before the sun’s even up.

But it does. It does, and the weight of it scares you.

Your whole body feels wrong, you skip breakfast, try to force down a cup of coffee, but it doesn’t help. Your stomach churns, and your skin prickles with a strange, feverish heat. You’re cold, so damn cold, but the sweat gathers at your temples and slicks your palms.

Emptiness settles in your chest as you go about your day, an ache that tightens every time your thoughts drift back to the night before. To the way he looked at you. And you hate yourself for it, hate that you need him, that your body is betraying you, craving something you can't let yourself want.

It's ridiculous. It's unbearable. It’s like you’re going through some sort of withdrawal. Just the thought of him – of his hands on you, his voice in your ear – sends a shudder down your spine, and you can’t even focus on the emails piling up in your inbox. You’re not used to this, not used to feeling so raw and exposed, and it makes you feel weak.

Lunch comes and goes, but you barely touch the food, staring blankly at your salad until you push it aside. Your appetite is gone, stolen away by the need that tightens your chest and messes with your breathing. You try to distract yourself, but it's like he's burned into the back of your eyes. Every other thought circles back to him, to the echo of his laugh, the feel of his fingers tracing patterns on your skin.

By mid-afternoon, you’re practically vibrating with it. The restlessness, the discomfort, the absence of him. You can feel it in your bones, this weird kind of panic that has your skin clammy and your hands shaking. It’s not normal, this kind of reaction, and it’s making you question everything you thought you knew about yourself.

What if you can’t stop feeling this way? What if this is just how it’s going to be now – this constant ache, this physical need that won’t let you breathe properly unless he’s there, grounding you?

You end up sneaking out early, your boss too busy with last-minute prep for the new manager to notice. You don’t know where you’re going, don’t have a plan. But your feet take you in the direction of his place anyway, like you’re on autopilot, the city blurring around you. Your phone buzzes with a message – something work-related, but you can’t even look at it.

All you can think is that you need him. You need him now.

part 4

You hesitate outside his door, you’re jittery, nerves buzzing under your skin, and your fingers hover over the wood, half-afraid to knock.

What if he doesn’t want to see you? What if he’s busy or worse – what if he’s not alone? You feel stupid for not calling ahead, for showing up unannounced like this. But it’s too late to turn back now. You take a deep breath and knock, your knuckles rapping against the door in a shaky rhythm.

Your heart is in your throat, the seconds ticking by in agonizing silence, and you wonder if this is how it all ends – him opening the door with a surprised look, gently telling you he’s got plans, and you slinking away like you never showed up in the first place. You’re ready to walk away, to put yourself out of this misery and pretend you never came, when you hear the deadbolt click.

The door swings open, and there he is, looking more surprised than annoyed. He’s wearing a loose t-shirt and joggers, barefoot, like he wasn’t expecting company. His hair’s a mess, and you realize with a weird sense of relief that he was alone.

“Hey,” he says, and you just stand there, because you don’t know what to say. Hey feels too casual for the way your heart’s racing, for the desperation that drove you here in the first place. He looks at you like he’s trying to read your mind, his eyebrows drawing together.

“I – I should have called,” you stutter, feeling heat rush to your face. 

“No, it’s... it’s fine,” he says, stepping aside to let you in. There’s a weird, careful distance in his voice, like he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like he can tell there’s something different about today. “Come in.”

You walk inside, brushing past him. You feel his eyes on you the whole time, tracking your every movement. It’s stupid how much you want him to close the door, to pull you close and tell you he’s missed you, that he’s felt the same aching emptiness since you left last night.

But he doesn’t. He lingers by the door, watching as you settle on the edge of the couch, your hands clasped tightly in your lap to keep them from shaking. He knows you’re holding back and is waiting for you to say why you’re really here.

You force yourself to look up, meeting his eyes.

“I needed to see you,” you blurt out. You see surprise flicker across his face, but he doesn’t move, just stands there waiting for you to go on. You swallow, your throat tight, and push the words out. “I just... I can’t stop thinking about you. It’s driving me crazy.”

His eyes widen. Then he’s crossing the room, sitting down beside you, his hand reaching out to touch your knee. It’s gentle, hesitant.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice soft, and it’s the concern in it that makes you want to cry. You nod, even though you’re not sure you are, not really. You’re still scared, still feeling that horrible emptiness clawing at your chest, but he’s here, and he’s looking at you like you’re the only thing that matters right now.

You let out a shaky breath and lean into him, pressing your face against his shoulder, and his arms come up around you automatically, holding you close. The relief is instant, a flood of warmth spreading through you, and you realize how desperate you’ve been for this, for him. His hand moves up to your hair, fingers gentle as they brush through it, and you can feel the tension in your body start to unwind, little by little.

“Why didn’t you call?” he murmurs against your hair, and there’s something almost fragile in his voice, like he’s been waiting for you too, like maybe he needed you as much as you needed him.

“I don’t know,” you admit, your voice muffled against his shoulder. “I was afraid you wouldn’t want me here.”

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his hands cradling your face, and you can see the frustration and tenderness mingling in his eyes. “You’re an idiot,” he says softly, but there’s no bite to it, only a strange kind of relief. Then he kisses you, hard and urgent, trying to make up for all the things you didn’t say.

[dreameryfics]

JJ MAYBANK x READER

Summary: JJ has loved you for years, but only now do you realize it

We had just got back to the island from Charleston. John B and Sarah were back home, safe. We had the night, one night where everything felt normal, or at least our normal. John B was still wanted for a murder he didn't commit. We all decided that would be a tomorrow problem, tonight though, was for us.

We were all hanging in the backyard, JJ, Pope, and I all in the hot tub. It was more just a small pool now as the hot tub part didn't work anymore. Kie and Sarah were sitting by the fire; Kie playing the ukulele and Sarah fiddling with the small bandana around her neck. John B was looking at the tribute we made for him, realizing how real it was for us. I made my way out of the 'hot tub' and over to my brother.

I stood beside him, resting my head on his shoulder. "I thought you were dead, I thought I lost my brother and best friend all in one go. After Dad," I choked up, "I couldn't bear the thought of you being gone too."

"Hey," he turned towards me, placing his hands on my shoulders, "I'm here. You can't get rid of me that easily sis." He pulls me in for a hug, one I knew we both desperately needed. We stay like that for a while before we hear rustling behind us. We turn around and see JJ walking over. “I’ll talk to you later,” I tell my brother, knowing him and JJ needed some time to talk.

I walk and sit next to Sarah, her glancing over at me. Sarah and I had always been friends, even before she met John B. She was always nice to me and knew that being a Kook didn’t make her any better than the rest of us; a concept I wish the other Kook’s would understand.

“I need to tell you something,” she blurted out, facing me now. I turned towards her and she went on, “ John B and I kind of got married.”

“What!?!” I yell out. “Shhh- don’t be so damn loud,” she shushed me. “Sorry, but you can’t expect me to now react that way when he’s my brother and you’re, well you.” I chuckle at her, noticing she’s looking over at John B now. I can see it in her eyes, she loves him; and more than just a high school type of relationship. They’re endgame. “Sarah, I’m so happy for you,” I reach over and grab her hands, “and now I have a sister-in-law! Tell me everything! How exactly do two presumed dead teens get married in a foreign country?”

“Well, it was technically in the middle of the ocean, so legal, not likely, but it is to us,” she told me causing me to let out a slight chuckle. “We’re gonna get a dog,” she said the last part louder. I looked over and saw John B walking towards us, shaking his head at her. “Sarah, not anytime soon. We have to get the gold from Ward first,” he said very matter of fact, “and then full Kook!”

“So, Kie, what’s happening with you and Pope?” Sarah asks pointing over to Pope looking at her. “I don’t know honestly, but I think it might be something.”

“That’s,” I pause trying to find the right word, “vague as fuck, Kie.” We all chuckle knowing that she’ll tell us when she’s up to it and when she knows more about her feelings. She flips me off before getting up and putting on some music.

Sarah and I stood up and went over to Kie, the boys taking our spots we were just at. The three of us started dancing to the rhythm of the music, just enjoying life. I can’t dance, but it doesn’t matter because tonight is just about us all being together. After about three songs, Kie comes over and nudges my shoulder, “look who can’t keep their eyes off of you,” she says looking over to JJ.

I look over at him and see him staring at me. Once he sees me looking at him, he gets the smallest smile on his face and shakes his head at me causing me to blush. “He’s just happy we’re all together again,” I tell Kie, “ don’t read into it. He doesn’t like me like that.” I look down, wanting Kie to be right but knowing he probably just sees me as John B’s little sister.

“Trust me on this one, friends don’t look at each other like that,” she whispers to me before dancing over to Sarah. I glance over at JJ and see him looking at me again. The next song that comes on from Kie’s playlist is a slower song. I see Sarah walk over to John B, hands outstretched, as he stands to grab her arms and pulls her into a hug. Sarah puts her arms around John B’s neck and he places his hands around her waist. She rests her head on his chest and I can see all the trouble and fear just melt away from my brother’s face.

I was about to walk over to grab another beer from the cooler when I heard someone clear their throat behind me. I turn around and see JJ, “Care to dance with me malady?” He reaches his hand out and bends down slowly. “I thought you’d never ask,” I reply taking his hand and curtsying. We both chuckle and walk hand in hand to where I was just at. I repeat Sarah’s actions and place my arms around his neck and he places his hands on my sides.

“I can’t believe they’re back,” he says looking down at me. JJ had been having a really hard time with John B being missing. He got himself fired after arguing with one of the Kooks about John B being innocent. He didn’t tell anybody else, but he started having small panic attacks. He wasn’t staying at his place anymore, not wanting to be alone so he would often sleep on the couch at the Chateau. “Me either, I’m so fucking overjoyed they’re back. I honestly didn’t know what I was going to do if we hadn’t gotten that text from them.”

“I didn’t either,” he says looking down at me, “I’m just happy I had you.” I could feel the heat rise to my face, maybe Kie was right. “Can I tell you something?” I looked up at him and shook my head. “I don’t want what I’m about to say change anything, but with what’s all happened, I can’t just keep quiet. I love you. I need you to know that in case everything goes to shit and I never get the chance to tell you.” I’m taken aback by his sudden outburst of honesty. We are both now just standing there, not realizing that the rest of the group had taken notice to what was happening.

I didn’t reply right away, not being prepared for this. “Fuck, I shouldn’t have said anything,” he said before turning away from me and running his fingers through his hair. “JJ-“ I grab his shoulder to make him turn back towards me. I did the only thing that felt right in the moment, I kissed him. He questioned it for the slightest second before kissing me back. I heard the hoots and hollers from the rest of the group, but all I could focus on was him. This was all that mattered to me in this moment. I pulled away, placing my hand in his, “I love you too.” He pulled me into the biggest and warmest bear hug.

“But what about the no pogue on pogue rule,” I say, still hugging him. He lets out a low chuckle before pulling apart and looking to John B. “He’s actually okay with this,” I look over at my brother, completely surprised at this statement. “What do you think we were talking about before sis?” John B says to me, “I couldn’t bear to watch you two miss your opportunity to be together all because of a stupid rule we made up.” I give him a smile before resting my head on JJ’s chest.

“Told you,” Kie said to me before grabbing another beer and tossing it to me. I stuck my tongue out at her and caught the beer, opening it and taking a sip.

We spent the rest of the night drinking and dancing. Kie and Pope left us. It wasn’t long before our whole world came crashing down around us as two people came looking for John B and Sarah; non other than Barry and Rafe Cameron himself. Maybe we won’t get one night, but we got a few moments, the best moments I would say.

Tomorrow: clearing John B’s name and figuring out what JJ and my first date is going to be. The former obviously more important, but I can dream.

[triglycercule]

would i be considered a lunatic if i said that horror's story could be read as a parallel for SA. Hear Me Out: (obviously be careful for reading this bc like,,, sensitive topic)

i feel like the largest parallel could be the actual event of getting his eye taken. a part of his body is "taken" and literally or metaphorically horror was pinned down and forced to give up his body (even worse considering that a literal part of him was PULLED out with a foreign object designed solely to hurt HIM SPECIFICALLY). it's digusting and horror claws and fights his way out to prevent it but unfortunately it still ends up happening no matter what he could've done. no matter how many backup plans or extra contibutions or begging or fighting he did. which like. sounds honestly pretty simple to the reality of victims of SA. that hopelessness of knowing that even if you did as much as you could, covering up, devoting yourself to a life of chastity, not hanging with people like thay, there's still a chance that something bad could happen and all of a sudden everyone's out to get you and how could they just stand by and do NOTHING while you were left to suffer and defend yourself

which leads onto the next point i wanna bring up which is horror's rage immediately after getting his eye stolen. his anger at the betrayal is (very justified my boy did nothing to deserve this) solely about him and his bodily autonomy. undyne (and alphys ig,,,,) couldn't consider ANY other possible solution than to deprive him of his autonomy and decide to just take what they wanted from his body??? AND THE FACT THAT ALPHYS SAID THAT HE MIGHT AGREE TO GIVING UP HIS EYE? it's giving very much so "oh it'll feel good so don't worry" type shit or whatever (horrortale alphys i DONT like you). a betrayal at the hands of someone you trusted a lot about your bodily autonomy? it just gives off that sort of parallel

and the sheer anger and fury that horror felt and enacted on alphys and undyne and everyone else at the CORE just like DUDE. that is a type of anger that only comes out when you've been deeply wronged. sometimes when a horrific experience like getting SAed happens you just wanna explode and drag down everyone around you and ESPECIALLY the perpetrators no matter how much you rationalize. you can have as many people as you want try to convince you that revenge and being hateful isnt the way but it doesn't matter because they havent been wronged the way youve been. horror deserved to be that cruel because undyne and alphys were just as cruel back to him, so he'll be the same and return it 10fold (he probably wasnt even out of bones when he decided to turn them into chips he just wanted to make it a point that he didn't even need to use his full strength to hurt the guards. horror could've EASILY killed alphys but no he wanted it to hurt for her so she could live a life of eternal suffering and fall to her lowest and to ESPECIALLY hurt undyne. because they deserve to suffer just as much as he did if not more for the crime commited against him)

a betrayal as bad as alphys's is only worsened when she tells him that she doesnt regret a single thing about using him for the underground. that has to be the single most infuriating thing for horror to hear because WHAT DO YOU MEAN alphys doesn't regret a thing? that's exactly what some people gloat about after doing terrible things; they try to sweep it under the rug as nothing that bad or justify it OR JUST STRAIGHT UP ADMIT IT!!! nah horrortale alphys deserved to suffer idc

and back onto that feeling of wanting to kick and scream and drag everyone else down with you after being left so used and betrayed due to getting SAed: i know it was bad that horror tricked snowdin into eating humans it was TERRIBLY BAD but really horror was just operating on anger and spite and the need for vengeance. nobody in snowdin ever did anything to hurt him (and i'm sure horror knows that considering he definitely regrets what he did) but to him maybe they also should feel the pain he feels so they can all relate. so that they can't try and fight against him when he says his side of the story and say that undyne was right with what she did. that maybe he wouldn't feel so absolutely devastated after what happened if he saw everyone around him suffering too, and maybe JUST MAYBE he'd get a bit of something back from his sacrifice that he never consented to

i KNOW i'm not reaching with this but idk if i phrased it the best. but to me horror's story really does genuinely parallel to one of an SA survivor's: the betrayal, the anger, the feeling of loneliness and isolation and just feeling absolutely used for a simple thing as your body. chapter 4 of horrortale really is amazing storytelling and so is horror (he was reasonable in what he did IDC WHAT ANYONE SAYS he might be WRONG but it was reasonable. i love horror sans)

[brooklyncircus]

"Until you..." part. 10.

Hiromi Higuruma x reader.

Until you arrived, Hiromi Higuruma had never felt so proud of himself. He had never seen with his own eyes how he was beginning to evolve a little more each time, gradually losing his fear. He felt as if everything was perfectly aligning, yet something was missing.

You.

And although he was a logical person, he had not idealised you at any point. In fact, he would be lying if he said he didn’t feel a pang of disappointment every time he boarded the train and exchanged glances with eyes that weren’t yours.

He would be lying if he didn’t admit that he always used to feel a slight twinge of disappointment, which, over the days, became lighter.

Over the weeks, he had started focusing so intently on himself and his new routine that he wanted to see you only to make sure you were still alive. He had accepted by then that you probably had someone else or were focused on your own life.

Perhaps life had brought you into his life as motivation to change and improve.

To do it for himself. And no one else.

But let’s say that, at the same time, he would be lying if he said he didn’t want to see you. He did. As respectful as he was, he wanted to and even sometimes fantasised about future things he could say to you or talk about with you if you ever met again.

But he had also accepted that maybe you wouldn’t, and he supposed that would be all right too.

(Although not completely what he wanted).

A month and a half had passed since he had last seen you and said goodbye to you outside the city’s grand library. In that time, he had set about organising his life in a functional, healthy, and positive way.

A month and a half…

He sighed, scratching his cheek as he gazed absentmindedly out of the taxi window. “I hope Forger’s there…” he thought, frowning a little. “If he’s late, I’ll strangle him with his stupid tie.”

Hiromi was on his way to a courthouse to meet Forger, as the day of the meeting had arrived. Adjusting his tie, uncomfortable with the way it seemed to choke him, he paid the driver, opened the door, and stepped out, not forgetting his briefcase and adjusting his suit slightly.

“Hiro!” Forger called out cheerfully from behind him. Hiromi turned to see the prosecutor waving at him, stepping out of his own car.

“Forger,” Hiromi replied, looking as if he’d rather be anywhere else.

As the man approached, they began to walk together towards the courthouse in complete silence. But it seemed like Forger wanted to say something, perhaps make a comment, but Hiromi’s usual cold and indifferent facade prevented him... for now.

That was until they entered the building and began walking towards the court where the young lawyers would present their cases.

“The secretaries told me you’ve been making a few changes in your office. They mentioned hearing you moving things and carrying others out in boxes, like two plants…” the blond man commented, a half-smile on his face and his eyes sparkling with curiosity.

“I didn’t know my personal matters had already become gossip for the ladies and, apparently, gentlemen of the tenement,” Hiromi replied dryly.

Forger chuckled, accustomed to his friend’s comments. “I suppose you’re doing the same in your flat, right? What’s with all the change?”

Hiromi responded this time with honesty... and his usual grumpy morning mood, triggered recently by none other than Forger. “I wanted to change things up a bit. I didn’t realise I needed your permission, Mr Prosecutor.”

Forger raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Mhm... I see. Could it be because of a woman?” Hiromi sighed dramatically and rolled his eyes. This prompted Forger to press further, clearly hurt that his friend hadn’t told him anything. “Oh, is it because of a woman!? Since when!? Oh! And you didn’t tell me!”

“Shut up, we’re in a bloody courthouse. Do you want my personal life to be part of the city’s legal gossip? God.” Hiromi grabbed Forger’s arm, pulling him closer as they walked down the rows of seats, choosing ones far away from everyone else. “No. It’s not because of a woman. All right?”

They sat down, and Forger made a small sad pout. “I thought you’d finally found someone.”

Hiromi rolled his eyes again, adjusting his suit jacket as more people filled the room. He placed his briefcase between his legs. “I will never understand your obsession with prying into my personal affairs.” Pause. “No. I haven’t met anyone—…”

But Hiromi cut himself off when his eyes landed on a particular figure. A very familiar figure.

He felt his heart skip a beat, and for a moment, he stopped breathing. He forgot entirely about Forger beside him, about everyone else in the room, about why he was there, and who he was.

When his eyes landed on you, nothing could tear them away.

He felt as though a wrecking ball had struck him hard, leaving him dazed for several minutes. He blinked repeatedly, as if trying to confirm you weren’t about to disappear. That you were real.

You were.

And you were there, just as beautiful as he remembered. Perhaps a bit taller; it must have been the heels you were wearing. You looked more elegant, and he guessed it was because you were dressed in a woman’s suit. Your hair was tied up in a style that highlighted your angelic features, and he felt his head start to spin.

And when your eyes found his...

Oh, for the love of God.

It was as if an eternity had passed since he had last seen you.

Forger nudged him to stand, and Hiromi was forced to break out of his trance, to breathe and remember he was still alive. You approached them with another woman and a man, but Hiromi looked only at you.

After your companions introduced themselves, Forger spoke up. “I’m Prosecutor Forger, and he is…”

Hiromi interrupted, extending his hand to you to greet you formally, properly. To meet you. “Hiromi Higuruma, solicitor. A pleasure to meet you, Miss…?”

You accepted his hand, giving him a small, warm squeeze that sent a shiver through his body. “Shimizu Y/N, future solicitor. The pleasure is mine.”

And until you arrived, Hiromi Higuruma had never felt so proud of himself. He had never seen with his own eyes how he was beginning to evolve a little more each time, gradually losing his fear. He felt as if everything was perfectly aligning, yet something was missing.

You.

[gogodollie]

sister imperator being the one to give copia his first few t shots.

you know how sister is- if she wants something done, it will get done. so when copia offhandedly starts talking ti her about other siblings that are on hormone therapy copia, she gets the hint and goes ahead with starting that process. being on the dyke scene in the 60s, sister would have a good chance of actually having the resources to get access to hrt and know where to get some semblance of knowledge on how to dose copia (or at least she’s hitting up her old butches to call in a favor to figure things out for him). a week, a month, two months pass and suddenly she’s knocking on copia’s door with a small brown paper bag in one hand and a bright red sharps container hanging at her side.

she sits him down on the lidded toilet and kneels in front of him while she talks him through the process, putting each item up on the countertop beside them as she goes through the instructions- needle, draw, swap, syringe, swab, inject. simple, right? copia is nodding along all big and bright eyed, heart racing in his chest as he tries to follow her movements but the excitement and adrenaline is all getting to him. once everything has been gone over, sister will awkwardly slap his knee as she stands up to leave and wishes him luck. the bathroom is so so empty without her there but it gives copia a second to breathe, gave him arms and body a big shake to try and get the jitters out enough to focus on the task. he’s able to get through drawing up the medication and nervously swap the needle caps, pinch the fat of his stomach before he’s suddenly frozen and realizes how much his hand holding the filled syringe is shaking. just this once, he figured he could handle needles and shots and injections and all of that good stuff- that it wouldn’t be like the times he spent kicking and crying in the doctors office for his routine shots because he wants this so badly. but he’s stuck in place and can’t bring himself to do it.

shuffles out of the bathroom with teary eyes and tells imperator i think maybe this is too soon and maybe i should wait a little longer but sister can see through it and, mildly worriedly, leads him back to the bathroom by the elbow to sit him down again. she’s not good with comfort and tears; can’t read emotions as well as she probably should be able to and certainly doesn’t know how to react to them, she never has been. but she knows how much this all means to copia. so instead of playing along, she tells him that she can do it. grabs the needle from where it’s seated on the plastic packing and the alcohol swab where she had placed it minutes earlier. spares copia a glance, a raised eyebrow challenging him to tell her that he was serious about not being ready but she’s just met with a nervous nod and a quiet “alrighty” in confirmation. copia’s face screws up squeaks out a nervous sounding “did you do it yet?” imperator sighs and assures him that the cold he felt was, in fact, just the alcohol swab. she carefully pinches the baby fat of his stomach, and pushes the needle in as carefully as she can without letting it draw on, knowing that if copia holds his breath any longer he’ll probably faint. drops the used needle into the disposal and reaches over for the tin of bandaids, scoffs fondly when she pulls out one with a pixelated luke skywalker on the front of it and sticks it over the small bead of blood that’s begun to form on his abdomen. copia finally opens his eyes- looks down at his stomach, then to the vial on the counter next to him, then to sister. nerves and excitement are still eating at him as he thanks sister, rambles on about something in his classes to try and seek favor or a distraction or something that she can relate to but she just nods slow and disposes the used items. she’ll stand up and place a hand on his shoulder and look like she’s about to speak but her mouth opens and she has nothing to say so she gives a curt nod instead, like he’s supposed to understand what that means.

for the next month, each week sister will set up station in the bathroom and help with his doses until he works up the courage and comfort enough to tell her that he thinks he can handle it now- and she’ll pass over the syringe and vial because she knows he can. she can’t do the emotional part of this all, can’t hold copia and assure him he shouldn’t be afraid and that his worries don’t worry her too. but she can handle the practical things, can fight to make sure copia gets what he needs and prays that will be enough for however long it takes.

[egotank]

Battle Baby

Set during the plane scene in Origins because that scene has a chokehold on us at the moment

Victor got on to the plane with his brother smiling. He enjoyed their line of work sure it was gruesome at times but it thrilled the inner beast in him to sink his claws into something nothing could beat the feeling of that right?

It didn’t take long before he heard their annoyingly talkative teammate Wade speak up.

“You know I love this sword more than anything in the world. You know why that is?”

Wade spoke while sharpening the katana blade.

“No.”

Victor half growls while Logan looks up from having his head between his legs.

“It’s memorable. Sure it’s bulky and hard to get on a plane. But you whip out a couple of swords at your ex-girlfriend's wedding and they will never, ever forget it.”

Victor scoffs.

“That’s funny Wade, I think you confuse me with someone who gives a shit.”

“Right it’s probably not as intimidating as a gun or bone claws or the fingernails of an old bag lady.”

Victor gives Wade a threatening smile extending his claws a bit ready to attack the annoying man across from him.

“Manicure?”

Wade asks, taking out his classic baby knife.

“Victor. Easy.”

Logan spoke up through gritted teeth. It was in that moment that Victor felt a strange protective pull he could tell his brother was not just uncomfortable from flying but he was feeling much more off. Logan was regressed and far from being battle ready. He growls a bit when Wade goes to talk to Logan.

“Aww does the Honey Badger not like flying?”

Wade asks as the plane goes to land.

“If we were meant to fly we would grow wings.”

Logan mumbles.

“Don’t worry Nancy, more people die driving than they do flying.”

Agent Zero spoke with a joking tone that sort of leaves a sour taste in Victor’s mouth. Oh how he wants to rip the smile off of that guy's face cause no one makes jokes about Jimmy's fears but him.

“Jimmy ease up a bit.”

Victor’s voice sounds in Logan’s ear trying to get the younger feral to relax.

“I’m here, I ain't going nowhere. I’ll tear anything and anyone apart before I ever go anywhere without you.”

He keeps speaking in the younger’s ear to get him to stop clawing at the seat. Logan just gives a low growl in response he is far too terrified right now to listen to reasoning but he also wants Victor or hell he’ll even take Wade’s excessive yapping anything to keep his mind off of the fact they are thousands of feet off the ground.

“M not scared Vic back off.”

Despite his words his bone claws come out and he grips the seat tighter.

“I got you baby brother.”

Victor spoke, placing a hand on Logan’s shoulder rubbing soft circles into the younger's shoulder.

“That’s it, focus on me and ignore everything else.”

Victor kept speaking as he watched how the fear and tense slowly left the other the more he spoke. The instant the plane hit the ground Logan was the first to bolt off of it.

“Jimmy slow down!!”

Victor commanded, to which the other’s on the plane saw that Logan surprisingly listened, slowing down and letting the older feral wrap him up in a hug.

“You good now Jimmy? Is my little wolf okay?”

Victor asked him very quietly and he waited for a nod before letting go and letting Logan complete the mission at hand.