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[funnybearkidsclothes]

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[mulders-too-large-shirt]

my favorite scully moments from s2

after the x-files are shut down, she gets moved to teach at the academy, and in episode 1 she does a little monologue on how a person’s body is a physical manifestation of a lifetime, which one of the students describes as “spooky”

when mulder sneaks off to puerto rico in the same episode, she goes into his place to try and figure where tf he went, and prevents his sneaking about being caught by the investigators who broke into his home with the power of feeding his fish

lecturing about the dangers of eating raw steak in episode 2, then getting lost down a rabbit hole of worm science

when no one was answering the door in episode 3, she just walks in. this made me laugh hysterically, i cannot explain. both of these guys WILL enter your home.

every single time she is a bit of a medical nerd, like when she learns about the surgery that allowed people to survive without sleep in episode 4, which she describes as “incredible”

(and the freckles + flower earrings combo were also a fave)

when she scans the piece of metal that came from duane barry in a grocery store in episode 6, and the cash register goes crazy. and she denies involvement and just walks away LMAOOO <- honestly i'd do the same!!

she wakes up from her coma in episode 8 and wants to write a thank you note to the nurse that took such good care of her, only to learn no such nurse ever existed. scully got to witness the paranormal for once!!!!

in episode 9, someone brings up a volcano scientist in conversation, and she says she had heard he was brilliant, which means that somehow she is keeping up with volcano news. she is a woman of many layers.

being deeply worried about this scared looking grad student she just met, and once again not waiting for an answer to enter her room and figure out if she is okay

(and when said grad student is being consumed by a fungus, scully thinks quickly enough to get herself locked behind a door, keeping herself safe, despite being handcuffed and otherwise looking death by fungus in the face)

in episode 11, mulder walks into his office, only to learn she has been there and has been going through his stuff since 6 in the morning. queen of getting results!

in the same episode, an old man overdoses on mushroom pills, and she shifts into Doctor Mode, yelling about “ventricular fibrillation” and “milligrams of lidocaine” and it was, like every other time she goes Doctor Mode, so deeply satisfying to watch

when she meets the two cops in episode 12, and can immediately tell they are having an affair and that the detective is pregnant, and despite the detective pleading with her not to tell a soul, the absolute MILLISECOND she is reunited with mulder, she spills the tea. and he is SHOCKED! <- arguably my favorite moment in the entire series so far

(and, to make the woman feel more comfortable, she confesses to also having had feelings for coworkers before which. elaborate on that, please)

but she really does care; when the detective ends up in the hospital, scully brings her a change of clothing <3

when she is so shaken by what she sees in episode 13 that she goes to the FBI’s onsite therapist; she’s too scared to tell mulder how she feels because “i don’t want him to feel like he has to protect me”

(as if there was ever going to be a choice; he is the protector and he Will protect, it's just his nature)

((and then later sobbing into his arms, realizing she doesn’t have to always put on a front))

toads start falling from the sky in episode 14, so she rationalizes that they likely came from a nearby tornado. this is a scully-approved theory.

they’re investigating a murder in the same episode, and a teenager starts pouring her absolutely horrific trauma out to both of them, scully holds her while she sobs into her jacket

honestly any time either of them know weird information, i love it. she says that it would take hours for a snake to eat a man and then weeks for it to digest in episode 14, and mulder makes some funny remark but it’s sooo endearing to me. she knows her snake facts.

then in episode 15, she notes poison in someone’s blood, but specifically that the poison comes from pufferfish eaten in Japan… girl i’m crying, she just knows stuff!

during that same case, they get rooms near each other like always, and she knocks on a door thinking it’s mulder’s. he doesn’t answer. she walks in and hears water running, so she just talks to him through the door to the bathroom. and i love this so much. i love that they are close enough to just walk into each other’s rooms and talk from behind the door while the other showers. it’s such married behavior.

working on the case in episode 16, we see her at home wearing a flannel, checking her computer, still serving looks but now giving casual

(and seeing the art she keeps on her walls- little postcards of beach scenes <3)

in the same episode, she knows mulder left to go get himself in trouble, so she bursts into skinner’s office to ask for help. but she feels bad for barging in on skinner, so she apologizes to him. which was very sweet.

when mulder is gone, she goes to his apartment to look for clues, and falls asleep on his couch

(and when X knocks on the door, she knows he is hiding something, and screams at him to tell her where he is)

this whole monologue from episode 17, which i loved more than life itself:

“several aspects of this case remain unexplained, suggesting the possibility of paranormal phenomena. but i am convinced that to accept such conclusions is to abandon all hope of understanding the scientific events behind them. many of the things i have seen have challenged my faith and my belief in an ordered universe, but this uncertainty has only strengthened my need to know, to understand, and to apply reason, to those things which seem to defy it”

(and that is just Her, isn't it? the need to understand, to rationalize. the worldview shaped on science- if she doesn't understand something, it's because a key piece is missing, and she'll find it. because the world Has to work that way, has to be bound by a greater logic, even if it is yet to be understood. to imagine otherwise would be impossible, to imagine otherwise would be to abandon hope in everything, and she cannot abandon hope)

((and maybe the idea that the world being something she cannot perfectly comprehend is a failing of her own understanding makes me a little emotional. but still))

she says that the whole loaves and fishes deal was a parable in episode 21; she is not a biblical literalist

(she then makes some sassy remark about things generating spontaneously, and mulder laughs in the corner. good to know he thinks she is funny)

every single time she answers the phone, she says “mulder, it’s me”, and idk i just think it’s so endearing

she thinks she might have been infected with a killer disease in episode 22, but mulder calls, so she tells him she’s okay and to take care of himself out there.... those are the last words she chooses, just in case they never talk again </3

and every time she says unsettling things, like “could be the residue of burnt human flesh” or “darkness covers a multitude of sins”, both in episode 23, i eat that up

reassuring her student who has just become a detective that she is doing just fine!!!

and then going to said student's funeral when things do not turn out fine... she loves her students that she taught for like 3 months so much :(

getting pulled aside by skinner and her bosses after mulder just acted wild in episode 25, and denying that she had seen any top secret files even though they say they will fire her if she lies lmaooo <- she is a ride or die!!!

but also going to his place, demanding assurance that she is doing the right thing by assisting him, and i love that. i love a character who will break all of the rules as long as they believe they are doing the thing that is morally Right, and that definition is so deeply her own, but she is committed to it, and she'll do anything to stick by it. and he just says something about getting the code that he wants broken, and despite how awful he's being, she goes through with it anyway because it's the Right thing to do.

later, her being the one to realize that mulder should not leave the house after his father was killed because he will be the prime suspect (he does not listen to this sound advice)

he stumbles into her place with a million degree fever, and she carefully lays him down in her own bed, despite the fact that he is soaked in his dead father's blood. and she takes care of him.

this one honestly deserves its own post because it is so incredible, but: shooting mulder with enough precision to get him to knock off his wild behavior that was going to make him look like he killed his dad, but not actually HURT him, then finding out krychek was putting LSD in his water, knocking him out, and driving 2 days to New Mexico to get him where he needed to be. AFTER he had been acting wild because he was inadvertently drugged, and had accused her of spying on him and being a traitor. that level of love is deep. very very deep. she is a Lover.

[kanrajpg]

Personal little headcanons about Damian that I have

• Growing up Damian was told how much he looks like his dad only for him to hit puberty looking 90% like his mom

• Because he looks like his mom he's a very pretty boy, so much so that it stresses his brothers out because of all the attention he attracts, especially the unwanted attention lol

• The languages he's fluent in aside from English are Arabic, Chinese, Japanese, French, Russian and Spanish. His favorites to speak are Arabic and Chinese

• He's a very light sleeper due to his upbringing, however he soon realized that if he's sleeping next to someone he trusts he can actually get a good night's sleep

• The one person that he just can't seem to draw right is Tim

• Kids a weeb of course his drawing Hatsune Miku fanart

• Despite his best efforts he's lithe and lean when it comes to muscle mass as he gets older (mostly due to his vegetarian diet I imagine) . He tells himself he doesn't mind, it makes him more nimble on the field. Tho sometimes he still wishes that he'll wake up one morning with the same build as his dad like he thought he would have when he was a kid.

• He's a clothes stealer. Shirts, hoodies, socks, doesn't matter he's taking them whether it be from his brothers or Jon

• He has a small collection of stuffed animals that he's accumulated over the years from friends and family. His three favorites are a bear that Alfred gave him when he first started living at the Manor, an elephant from Dick, and a cat that Jon won for him at a fair

• Some of his favorite romance animes included Fruits Basket, Kimi ni Todoke, Your lie in April

• He has a manga collection. Jon thinks it's pretty funny that amongst all his other more serious books there's just a bunch of manga

• He stops growing when he hits 5'7/5'8, he believes he'll hit a belated growth spurt for a while but once he hits like 25 he learns to accept his height. Still doesn't like talking about it tho

• Because Damian takes after his mom he's rather soft and delicate looking so people don't really expect him to know how to fight, that when he does knock someone down on their ass it's always a fun surprise for everybody

[runraerun]

Steddie Amnesia Ficlet: 2/3

-> Part 1 | Part 3 | AO3

cw: more head trauma/concussed!Steve discussions.

Steve hears Eddie call after him, but he doesn’t stop—he can’t face it. Not right now, anyway. Not when his eyes are stinging and his heart is pounding in his ears, each pulse more painful than the last. His legs take him to the building he’s supposed to go into, fueled purely by muscle memory. Not brain memory, of course, because nothing up there works properly anymore, apparently.

The Brain Injury Recovery Center.

It’s where Eddie expects him to go. He’ll catch Steve if he goes in, or he’ll wait for Steve by the doors until he comes back out—both options involve facing Eddie after Steve had made a total idiot of himself. Both feel utterly mortifying.

So he ducks into the alleyway beside the familiar brick building instead, just to catch his breath. It takes Steve longer than the average bear to sort out his feelings now, after all. Jesus, who’s he kidding? Everything seems to take him longer.

Steve feels hot tears streak down his cheeks before he angrily scrubs a sleeve over them. Of course Eddie isn’t his boyfriend. Eddie’s funny and cool and he’s in a band and he lights up every damn room he walks into—and Steve… well, maybe Steve was something a few years ago when he was in high school, and maybe he was even something before his accident, but now…

There’s a sharp clapping noise that sounds like thunder. A door slamming, Steve’s brain sluggishly supplies. It’s followed by shouting.

“Steve? Steve!” Eddie calls from somewhere on the street.

Steve’s heart feels like it’s going to fall out of his ass. His face is probably still blotchy and wet, his breathing hasn’t evened out yet and his eyes are still leaking like a goddamn faucet. He’s pathetic.

Can’t let Eddie see him like this…

He ducks behind a metal garbage bin, careful not to let anything but the bottom of his sneakers touch the sticky looking surfaces around him. It stinks, like rot.

“Steve?” Eddie’s voice echoes off of the alleyway walls. Steve claps a hand around his mouth to muffle out any of the pathetic sounds that seem determined to escape from him. So much of his body just does whatever the hell it feels like now. Out of Steve’s control, like everything else.

For a few, tense seconds, there’s silence. Eddie’s listening for him, maybe. Steve shuts his eyes and waits him out.

It feels like an eternity before he hears Eddie’s hurried, retreating footsteps, continuing his shouting for Steve. He sounds almost as panicked as Steve feels. Almost.

Steve gives a noisy, wet sniff and does one final scrub of his face before getting to his feet. He starts walking.

As he goes deeper into the alleyway, he thinks back on all the things he’s been wrong about. The fact that Eddie had some of his band t-shirts mixed in with Steve’s clothes… well, that was because they were both guys who wore about the same size, and Eddie left his shit everywhere. It’s no wonder some of his stuff got mixed into their laundry. And the times Eddie’s driven him places? That’s just… what friends do, Steve supposes. And all those times Eddie made Steve laugh? Made him feel like the center of the universe? Well, that’s just… Eddie. He must make everyone feel that way. It’s like his super power. But it isn’t romantic… It doesn’t mean anything more than Eddie being a magnetic person.

Steve is just so stupid. Painfully so.

He blinks as the sun hits him. He must’ve reached the other side of the alleyway.

Steve cups a hand over his eyes and grimaces. His migraine wasn’t backing down. He sighs. Time to head back.

Steve turns back into the alleyway he’d emerged from, only he’s about halfway through when he realizes the color of the buildings on either side of him are wrong. They’re brown on one side, painted green on the other. That isn’t right…

His heart jackrabbits in his chest, but he keeps walking forward. Maybe he’ll recognize the street once he’s back on the other side.

But when he gets there, it’s as unfamiliar to him as the alleyway. Steve turns, looking up and down the road to see if he could spot Eddie, or his van, or the Center. But there’s nothing.

And when someone shoulder checks him, Steve supposes he was sort of asking for it, standing in the middle of the sidewalk like that. He apologizes, but it’s too late. The person’s already out of range to hear him.

It’s as if everyone else is on fast forward while Steve’s stuck on pause. The world keeps moving along while all he seems to be able to do is watch it go by.

Why would he ever think someone as dynamic and spirited as Eddie would hitch his horse onto Steve’s busted up, barely mobile cart?

Stupid, stupid, stupid…

He presses the heels of his hands to his eyes and wills himself not to start blubbering again like a goddamn baby. His life is already one big, painful lesson in humility as it is, he doesn’t need to wallow in it.

Steve keeps walking. Figures he’ll spot something, or someone familiar to him eventually. The pounding in his head’s eased off to a dull ache, at least. Maybe there was something to this exercise and fresh air thing the doctors were always going on about, after all…

The thing is though, Steve doesn’t spot anything familiar. Not even vaguely so, and it’s not until the streetlights turn on that he realizes he’d spent the majority of the day wandering around the streets like some lost dog that managed to slip his leash.

It’s cold too, and all he’s got on is jeans and a polo. It’s October, isn’t it? No wonder he’s got goosebumps all up and down his arms.

Then, he finally spots something familiar; a phone booth. Steve breathes a sigh of relief. He’d just call his parents. They’d come pick him up.

He gets the booth and lifts the receiver before he blanks. A quarter. He’d need that. Duh, Harrington. So he hangs up the phone and pats his pockets until he finds a wallet, but all that’s inside of it are a couple of crisp bills. He’d need to break one.

Steve turns, scans the street until he spots a well lit, invitingly warm looking diner. The joint looks so damn cozy that he forgets to make sure the street is clear before he steps out into the middle of it.

Tires screech, harmonizing with the horn that’s blasting at him—Steve flinches, reaching up to cover his head and braces for impact.

To his great relief, the hit never comes. Which, thank fuck. He can’t afford anymore accidents. As it is Robin’s threatened to make him wear a helmet full-time.

Steve doesn’t listen to whatever the person yells at him, he just hurries to get the hell out of his way of the other moving vehicles.

“Smooth, Harrington. Real smooth.” He mutters to himself as he catches his breath.

He pushes the door to the diner open with shaking hands, but it’s blissfully peaceful inside, and he can actually feel his insides unclench as he stands inside of it.

“Sit anywhere, hun, I’ll be right with you.” A woman’s voice tells him. Steve nods and slips into the nearest booth overlooking the street. Watches the cars go by. There’s even a couple of cop cars, sirens blaring, lights flashing. Steve wonders briefly what sort of emergency they’re rushing off to when the waitress comes to his table.

“What can I get you, handsome?” She asks, cheery and warm like the rest of the diner.

“Uh…” Steve frowns, taking a few seconds to process the question, “nothing. I’m just waiting for my parents to come pick me up.”

The waitress taps the side of the notepad. “Well you gotta order something, hun, or you can’t stay here.”

Steve wants to stay here. It’s warm and smells fucking amazing, like “pancakes?”

She waitress smirks. “Yeah, we got those. You want a stack?”

“Yeah, please.” Steve smiles back, laughing along with the waitress like he’s in whatever joke that’s currently so amusing to her. “I’m starving.”

“You want some coffee too, to help you sober up, maybe?”

“Oh, I’m not drunk.” He huffs out a little self deprecating laugh, “I wish. No, I—uh, my meds, they’re the kind that you can’t mix with alcohol. Coffee too. Bummer, right? Yeah… But, uh, it is what it is, I guess—so…”

He can feel it. The way his mind so often wanders. He’s lost his train. His track. He frowns, eyes drifting towards the street again, watching the headlights zip by.

“…so just the pancakes then?” The waitress asks, jolting his train back onto its rails. His attention snaps back onto her.

“Yeah, pancakes. Sure.” Steve flashes her what he hopes is a charming smile.

She returns his smile and leaves him be, and he lets himself relax. Props his head up on a fist and watches life go on for everyone else but him.

He gets his pancakes, and some juice too that he doesn’t remember ordering, but hey, that’s nothing new. And damn, the pancakes taste even better than they smell. He needs to remember the name of this place so he can come back with everyone. What did the doctors say? Repeat something in your head over and over until it sticks. Repetition. Repetition, repetition, repetition…

It’s around the time his fork hits an empty plate that one of the police cars stops in front of the diner window, lights on, but the sirens are off now.

Hopper steps out.

Huh. That’s weird. Steve wonders what sort of emergency he’s here for.

When Hopper enters through the glass doors, the bell hung over the entry way rings out pleasantly. An angel getting their wings.

His eyes land on Steve and the older man sighs, shoulders falling. Relief, Steve recognizes. Hopper pulls the radio from his belt and says something into it before stomping over.

Then it clicks.

Oh. Steve’s the emergency.

He feels his face heat up. The handful of other patrons scattered across the diner are all looking at him.

“There you are.” Hopper sighs, gruff and exasperated.

Steve sinks into his seat, just a little. “Shit. I fucked up, didn’t I?”

“Just a little.” Hopper chuckles dryly. He takes off his hat and slips into the booth across from Steve, apparently not in any sort of hurry now that he’s found the runaway dog.

Steve runs a hand through his hair, a nervous tic he’s developed. “Sorry.”

“Nah, don’t be sorry. Just strangle Munson for me when you see him next, will ya?” Hopper drops his hat onto the table and waves the waitress down. He orders a coke.

Munson. Eddie.

The memory of how he made a total and utter fool of himself comes rushing back, slamming down onto him like one of those cartoon anvils. Jesus, how did he forget that..?

Suddenly the pancakes aren’t sitting so good in his gut. Feels like he’s gonna ralph.

“Was he freaked out? Eddie, I mean.” Steve asks, cautiously approaching the question. Did Eddie say anything about why…?

“Yeah, him and Robin both. Then the kids found out too—don’t ask me how. I suspect the curly-haired one has an illegal transmitter.” Hopper leans back in the booth as the waitress drops off his coke. He takes the straw out and drinks it right from the glass. Steve waits for him to finish, doesn’t say a word.

When Hopper puts the glass down, Steve just sits and watches the way the drops of condensation run down the cup, distorting around the fingerprints Hopper’s left. “Anyway, they’re all out on their bikes looking for you too.”

Hopper smiles fondly, like it’s something charming and not… pathetic. “You got a lot of people that care about you, kid.

Steve swallows around the lump in his throat, and nods. Tries for a grin, but it’s weak. Probably wouldn’t fool anyone, much less a cop. “Yeah, I’m a real lucky guy.”

Hopper looks like he wants to say something else, but he just takes a breath and nods. Steve’s grateful he doesn’t argue. Doesn’t think he has the energy in him right now to fend off the ‘but look how far you’ve come!’ ‘Your speaking’s gotten so much better!’ ‘It could be a whole heck of a lot worse!’ comments.

“What do you say we get you home? Unless you want dessert? My treat.” Hopper offers with a grin.

“No, I just want to go to sleep,” he says, before remembering his manners, “thanks, though.”

“Alright then.” Hopper glances down at the cleared plate of pancakes and the half finished coke before sliding out of the booth, followed by Steve. He takes out wallet, but Steve beats him to it. He tosses down a few bills, hoping it’s enough. Hopper doesn’t comment, so it must be.

The drive back to his and Robin’s apartment is a solemn one, but it’s strangely peaceful. Hopper’s got the heat on full blast due to Steve’s lack of coat, and the motion of the vehicle along with the darkened sky leaves Steve feeling wrung out in a way he hasn’t felt in a long time.

In fact, when they finally arrive, Hopper’s gotta shake his shoulder to wake him up.

“We’re here.” He rumbles out in his gruff baritone.

Steve lifts his head from his folded arm and looks up at the modest building. He wonders how far they live from the pancake diner. If they could walk there, sometime, him and Robin and Eddie.

But then Steve realizes he never got the name of it. He feels his insides sink. Another thing lost to him.

“Thanks, Hop,” Steve gives Hopper a nod and what he’s sure is a tired smile. “I’ll, uh—I’ll try not to run off again.”

“Ah, don’t worry about it.” Hopper says, diplomatically. “Let me walk you in.”

Steve cringes at the idea. He’s grateful for Hop and all he’s done—especially the part about not making him feel like a complete dummy—but he just wants this all to be over and for things to revert back to how they were. And at this point he’s so close he can taste it.

Steve busies his hands by undoing his seat belt. “No, it’s okay, really—“

Hopper looks like he’s about to argue but Robin damn near crashes out through the building’s illuminated front doors. She makes a b-line for Steve, who’s just barely gotten out of the cruiser.

She wraps her arms around him and doesn’t let go. “Steve! Holy shit, you scared me so bad. I’ve been out of my mind!”

Steve’s arms are trapped at an awkward angle, but he reaches around her as best he can, arms like flippers. “I’m okay. Seriously. Look, not even a scratch.”

She doesn’t laugh. Just squeezes him harder. Truthfully, Steve doesn’t know if he’s okay, but it’s what everyone always seems to want to hear from him, so he says it often.

“I’ve already killed Eddie like three times.” Robin murmurs into Steve’s chest, before finally pulling away. Her eyes are bloodshot, her nose stuffy, like she’s been crying.

“It’s not his fault, Rob.” Steve’s brows pinch together as he frowns, “is he…”

But when Steve looks up towards their building, he can see Eddie standing in the doorframe, his dark silhouette illuminated by the entry way lights. He’s still as a statue, holding open the door for them, arm extended out into the cold autumn night. Steve’s insides squirm.

“You got him from here, Buckley?” Hopper calls from his cruiser and Robin ducks to meet his eye before giving him a thumbs up. She loops her arm around his waist and they start towards their place—towards Eddie.

Before they reach him, Steve keeps his voice down as he asks, “Can I just go to bed? I don’t—I can’t talk about it right now.”

“Okay.” She nods, “I get it.”

But she doesn’t, not really.

Steve avoids eye contact with Eddie when they finally reach the building, and before he can say anything, Robin interrupts. “He’s going straight to bed. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.” Eddie says in a small voice. He doesn’t argue. Doesn’t even follow them back up to their apartment. Maybe Eddie’s even relieved he doesn’t need to confront it tonight. Maybe they won’t ever confront it… maybe he’s hoping Steve’s brain will take care of everything and make him forget. Make it like it never happened. Part of Steve wishes—

No. He doesn’t wish that. His brain’s already functioning at half capacity, he doesn’t want to thank it for fucking up, even if it might make Steve’s life easier.

Whatever Eddie’s expression is, Steve doesn’t look back to find out. He keeps his eyes on his feet, focusing on putting one step ahead of the other.

When they finally arrive at Steve’s matchbox sized bedroom, he doesn’t even bother changing into pajamas, or even out of his jeans for that matter. He just falls into his bed, pulls a pillow over his head and wills himself to let go of the day and surrender to the sweet pull of blissful unconsciousness.

🫣 Oops, I made it worse. But I promise the Eddie and Steve confrontation is in the next part! 🙏 This is tagged angst with a happy ending for a reason.

Tag List: (message me to add or remove yourself.)

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[nadal-designer]

[spideyson-stuff]

Tony always forgets his rule of never taking things directly from another person when he's with Peter

And it's so funny because he goes CRAZY when he realizes that Peter refuses to give him things directly, it's HILARIOUS!

Peter: Mr. Stark, your coffee!

Tony, going to take the coffee from Peter's hands IMMEDIATELY with a smile on his face: Thanks kid-

Peter places the coffee on a nearby counter and walks away with a smile on his face, Tony doesn't understand why he didn't just hand it over to him directly?

This happens more and more often with various things, papers, clothes, drinks, tools, Peter always leaves things near Tony for him to pick up but does not hand them over directly

Tony is honestly starting to get annoyed, why can't he just hand it over to me instead of making me go through the trouble of picking it up?

And one day, he confronts Peter about it

He is next to Rhodes talking about something, Peter arrived with the coffee they ordered, Peter always gets coffee for himself, Tony, Pepper and Happy when he comes over on Fridays and Saturdays, and leaves it on the counter for everyone to grab when they arrive

But when Rhodes is here he gets Rhode and Tony's coffee separately and "hands" it to them while they talk, Peter with a bright smile hands Rhodes the coffee in his hand and Rhodes takes it smiling, lucky bastard...

Then Peter leaves Tony's coffee on the table and gets up to leave, saying goodbye

Tony: Hey, Underoos

Peter: Uh? Yes Mr. Stark?

Tony: The coffee

Peter: Uhhhhh... it's right there? what?, did I got the wrong one? or-

Tony: Why don't you give it to me in my hand like you did with Honey Bear?

Peter stands in confused silence and Rhodes spits out his coffee in SHOCK

Tony:... What?

Peter: Uhm... don't you have a "never hand me things directly" rule?...

Tony turns red and starts stuttering something about "wait, no, that's not what I- YOU GOT IT WRONG!" Peter gets even more confused and Rhodes starts losing the shit out of him laughing how much of how idiot his friend can be sometimes

Peter hands the things over to Tony directly from then on, even if there are people around, everyone is shocked and Tony blushes slightly because, damn, his blind trust in this boy is so obvious?

[romerona]

The Cook and The Teacher!

Let's pretend The Bear and Abbot Elementary are in the same city.

Another cute interaction between Carmen (Carmy) Berzatto x Abbot Teacher Femreader! Sunshinereader!

Carmy stood in the dimly lit laundry room, hands on his hips as he glared at the washing machine like it had personally wronged him. The display panel flashed erratically, like it was trying to send an SOS in Morse code, while a faint but concerning smell of burning plastic wafted through the air.

He let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. All he wanted was to wash his clothes—just one normal task in a sea of chaos. Apparently, even that was asking too much.

With a frustrated sigh, he muttered curses under his breath and gave the machine a half-hearted nudge with his foot, as if that might magically revive it. Spoiler alert: it didn’t. The machine remained defiantly lifeless.

“Wow. Bold strategy. Were you planning to wrestle it next?”

The voice startled him. He turned sharply to see you standing in the doorway, holding a laundry basket overflowing with brightly colored clothes. You were dressed in the epitome of Saturday comfort: an oversized t-shirt with a graphic that read 'Physics: It’s Not Rocket Science... Oh, Wait, Yes It Is,' paired with baggy sweatpants and ridiculously fluffy, colorful monster feet slippers. Your hair was slightly messy like you’d just rolled out of bed—or perhaps fought the laundry demons he was now dealing with.

Your lips curved into a teasing smile as you tilted your head. “I’m impressed. I didn’t know machines responded to passive-aggressive foot taps.”

Carmy let out a quiet sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Didn’t have a better idea.”

“Well,” you said, stepping into the room and setting your basket down on the counter, “I hate to break it to you, but this thing looks like it’s plotting your demise. What’s the issue? Won’t open?”

“It stopped mid-cycle,” he explained, gesturing toward the uncooperative machine. “Clothes are stuck. It’s probably fried.”

“Oof. Smells like defeat and polyester.” You crouched down to inspect the machine, tilting your head like a mechanic sizing up a stubborn engine. “Looks like it’s giving you the silent treatment. Did you try apologizing? Promising to separate your whites and darks next time?”

“Funny,” Carmy deadpanned, though the twitch of his lips betrayed his amusement.

You straightened up, planting your hands on your hips in a stance that could only be described as authoritative. “Well, lucky for you, Carmy-next-door, I happen to be an expert in broken things.”

Carmy raised an eyebrow, leaning back against the counter. “Yeah? How’s that?”

You let out a playful scoff, crouching in front of the washing machine as if it were a patient in need of your expertise. “When you work in a place that runs on shoestring budgets and prayers, you pick up a thing or two about fixing stuff. I’ve practically got a minor in MacGyver-ing. It’s part of my many talents.”

He smirked, watching as you pressed a few buttons and tapped the side of the machine like you were coaxing it back to life. “Sounds like a tough gig.”

“Oh, it’s a blast,” you replied sarcastically with a grin, peering at the machine’s latch. “But the real fun is my lovely fourth graders and their… slippery fingers. Nothing keeps you on your toes like finding out your class stapler’s been dismantled to ‘see how it works.’”

“And you adore them,” Carmy guessed, his voice soft but sure.

“Ugh, to a fault,” you admitted, sitting back on your heels to glance at him. “They’re chaos in human form, but they’re my chaos. Like when Marcus decided to see if he could use glitter glue as a bookmark. Spoiler alert: he couldn’t. And then there was Kayla’s science project that involved exactly zero science but a lot of snacks. Kids are wild, but they’re kind of the best.”

Carmy chuckled, the sound low and warm as he shook his head. “Sounds like you’ve got your hands full.”

You huff a laugh nodding. “But they make all the broken stuff worth it... also, they’ve prepared me for moments like this. Fixing things? I’m a pro. Diffusing meltdowns? Also a pro. Dodging paper balls? Let’s just say my reflexes are unmatched.”

He chuckled quietly, his blue eyes softening as he observed your easy confidence. “Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out.”

“Oh, hardly,” you said with a self-deprecating laugh.

He watched as you tinkered with the inner workings of the washer, the way your monster-footed slippers stuck out behind you, and the light in your eyes as you spoke about your students. There was something captivating about the way you moved—confident but never overbearing, your words spilling out in an endless stream of humor and warmth. For someone who probably dealt with endless chaos in your day-to-day life, you had an energy about you—warmth—messy and vibrant—that felt oddly grounding in his otherwise muted world.

Finally, with a triumphant click, the washer’s door popped open. A puff of warm, damp air escaped, carrying with it the faint scent of detergent. You rocked back on your heels, grinning up at him as if you’d just disarmed a bomb.

“And there you have it!” you declared standing up, sweeping your arm dramatically toward the liberated laundry like a game show host revealing a grand prize. “Your clothes are finally free, Chef Carmy. Laundry liberation, courtesy of yours truly. I accept gratitude in the form of snacks, coffee, or eternal admiration—your choice. But please, no autographs. I have to stay humble.”

“You’re something else, you know that?” Carmy said, huffing a quiet laugh as he shook his head, stepping forward to start transferring the damp clothes into another machine. His tone softened slightly as he added, “But thanks, really. I owe you one.”

You waved a hand dismissively, already moving to the next machine with your own basket in tow.

“Don’t worry about it, Carmy…” you said, your tone casual, though the smirk playing on your lips suggested otherwise. “But, if you do feel like you want to repay me, feel free to bring me more of those leftovers—like the ones you brought when I first moved in.”

He paused, eyebrows raising slightly as he met your gaze. “That’s what you want? Leftovers?”

“Not just any leftovers,” you clarified, turning back to load more clothes. “The fancy ones. Braised short ribs, perfectly roasted vegetables... whatever culinary magic you’re whipping up in that kitchen of yours. Don’t think I forgot.”

Carmy paused mid-transfer, glancing at you with a faint, almost embarrassed smile. “You liked those, huh?”

“Liked?” you scoffed, tossing a pair of socks into the machine. “I was ready to write you a thank-you sonnet. That braised short rib? Poetry in food form. You’ve ruined me for takeout forever.”

He chuckled softly, shutting the door to his machine. “It was just a test recipe.”

“Well, then I’d be happy to test more of your recipes,” you said with a wink, starting your own machine and leaning back against it. “Strictly as a favor, of course. I’m nothing if not generous.”

“Generous,” he repeated, shaking his head with a smirk as he pressed the start button on his machine. He glanced at you, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Alright. I’ll see what I can do.”

“See?” you teased, flashing him a grin. “You’re already getting the hang of this whole neighborly exchange thing. Don’t worry, I’ll keep my expectations high.”

Carmy shook his head, letting out another quiet laugh. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, here you are,” you quipped, settling yourself into the nearby chair and grabbing a book from the empty laundry basket at your feet. You opened it casually, like you weren’t fully aware of the fact that his attention was still on you. “Don’t keep me waiting too long, Chef Carmy. I’ve got standards now.”

Carmy smirked faintly, shaking his head as he leaned back against the counter, arms loosely crossed. His gaze lingered on you for a moment longer than he intended, watching as you flipped through the book, completely at ease. The light in the room, though dim and slightly yellowed, softened your features, making you look... warm. Pretty, even. The oversized t-shirt, the messy hair, and those ridiculous monster slippers didn’t detract from it—in fact, they only made you more endearing. Not that he’d ever admit that out loud. Instead, he tucked the thought neatly into the back of his mind, letting it sit there quietly.

The faint hum of the working washing machine filled the space, stretching the silence between you into something that felt oddly comfortable. He wasn’t used to that—not in conversations, not in moments like these. Usually, silence felt heavy, awkward, something to be broken. But this? This felt... different.

Still, the need to say something eventually won out, despite his lack of finesse with small talk. Clearing his throat softly, Carmy shifted his weight and finally asked, “So... uh, how are you liking it here?”

You glanced up from your book, your lips curving into a small, knowing smile. “In the building? Or in the laundry room?”

Carmy huffed a quiet laugh, looking down briefly before meeting your eyes again. “The biulding, I guess."

“Oh, it’s not bad,” you said, leaning back in your chair. “The walls are a little thin—I may or may not know the entire plot of the soap opera your upstairs neighbor is binging—but they are decent. A little quiet, though, except for one guy who keeps kicking appliances. Total menace.”

“Sounds rough,” Carmy deadpanned, though his smirk gave him away.

“It is,” you said with mock solemnity before your smile softened. “But honestly? I like it. It’s... cozy, you know? Feels like a place where things can settle down.”

He nodded slowly, his gaze dropping briefly to the floor. “That’s good.”

“It’s growing on me,” you admitted, closing the book and resting it on your lap. “I mean, it’s not every day you move into a building and immediately make friends with someone who’s probably going to be on the cover of Some Fancy Chef Magazine someday.”

“Friends?” he said, arching a brow.

“Yeah, friends,” you replied with a teasing grin. “Or at least laundry room acquaintances.”

He shook his head, his smirk softening into something closer to genuine. “Friend's better.”

"Good," You smiled, shifting slightly in your chair. “So, Carmy-next-door, aside from working and battling possessed washing machines, what do you do for fun?”

“For fun?” he repeated, raising an eyebrow as though you’d just asked him to name every spice in his kitchen alphabetically. “Uh... I don’t know. Not sure I’ve got much time for that.”

“Not buying it,” you shot back, narrowing your eyes playfully. “Everyone’s got something. Come on, spill. What’s your guilty pleasure? Do you secretly knit in your downtime? Binge-watch trashy reality TV? Start a garden but refuse to tell anyone because it ruins your ‘serious chef’ vibe? And if you are, I know someone who could be your new best friend.”

He let out another quiet laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “None of those, but now I’m thinking I should start knitting just to throw people off.”

“Do it,” you said, pointing at him. “Then you can make me a scarf. But seriously, what’s your thing? There’s gotta be something.”

Carmy hesitated for a moment, his gaze dropping briefly before meeting yours again. “I guess... sometimes I’ll just walk around the city. Clears my head, you know?”

You nodded, smiling softly. “That’s a solid choice. City walks are like people-watching with a side of fresh air. What’s your favorite spot?”

“There's this park near the river. Quiet, not too crowded. Good place to think." Carmy tells her.

"Sounds nice," you replied, smiling. "I might have to check it out sometime."

"You should," Carmy said, his expression softening. He clears his throat, "I-uh, I used to draw, though. Sketch stuff when I had the time.”

“Used to?” you asked, leaning forward a bit, intrigued. “You mean you don’t anymore? Or are you just too modest to admit you’ve got sketchbooks hidden under your bed?”

His smirk faltered into something a little more genuine, a touch of shyness creeping into his expression. “I still do. Sometimes. When things aren’t too crazy.”

“Now that’s interesting,” you said, sitting back with a thoughtful smile. “What kind of stuff do you draw? People? Landscapes? Elaborate food masterpieces?”

“A little of everything,” he said with a small shrug. “But mostly recipes, or at least how I want them to look."

“Like a visual diary,” you said, nodding. “That’s actually really cool.”

“Yeah, well...” he trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s nothing big.”

“Carmy,” you said, tilting your head at him. “You just admitted to having an actual hobby, and I’m here for it. Don’t downplay it.”

He huffed, shaking his head flushing ever so slightly. “Alright. What about you? What do you do for fun?”

“Me?” you repeated, your eyes lighting up as you sat back in the chair, clutching your book like a prop in a comedy routine. “Well, let’s see. I’m a professional daydreamer, certified in overthinking, and an expert-level snack enthusiast. It’s an impressive resume, I know.”

Carmy chuckled, the corner of his mouth twitching into a rare smile. “Sounds like a full-time job.”

“Oh, it is,” you said with a mock-serious nod. “But if we’re being serious... I like to read, obviously.” You held up the book for emphasis. “And I’m a sucker for a good movie. Big screen, small screen, doesn’t matter. I also like to go out with friends— go to clubs, a karaoke bar, grab dinner, play board games, complain about life. You know, the usual.”

He tilted his head, his expression softening. “Any favorites? Books or movies?”

“Hmm,” you mused, tapping your chin. “For books, I like a little bit of everything—mysteries, fantasy, even the occasional cheesy romance. Keeps life interesting. And movies... I’m a sucker for feel-good comedies. But every now and then, I’ll binge something dark and broody just to balance it out.”

Carmy nodded, his gaze thoughtful. “Feel-good comedies? Got any recommendations?”

“Oh, I’ve got tons,” you said, your eyes gleaming. “But only if you’re ready for some real classics. Think Clueless, The Princess Bride, or When Harry Met Sally. If you’ve never seen those, we might have to reassess this friendship.”

“Clueless,” he repeated, remembering the movie because of Natalie who forced him and Mikey to watch it, one eyebrow-raising. “That the one with ‘As if’?”

“Yes!” you exclaimed, pointing at him with enthusiasm. “See? You’re already on the right track.”

He smirked, shaking his head again. “I’ll take your word for it.”

“What about you? Do you watch movies, or is that too much fun for someone as serious as Chef Carmy?”

He smirked, rubbing the back of his neck. “I watch stuff sometimes. Nothing specific. Just... whatever’s on.”

“Lame answer,” you teased, narrowing your eyes at him. “We’ll work on that. I’ll make you a list. Everyone needs go-to favorite movies.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” he said, his smirk softening.

“Good,” you replied with a playful nod, leaning back in your chair. “And since you’re such a layer enigma, like an onion, I’m guessing you don’t do the whole ‘night out with friends’ thing often?”

“Not really,” he admitted, his tone quieter now. “Doesn’t happen much.”

“You should,” you said, leaning forward slightly, your tone teasing but warm. “You might surprise yourself. One minute you’re awkwardly standing in a corner, and the next, you’re reenacting a dance scene from Dirty Dancing with a stranger. That’s how the best stories happen.”

Carmy shook his head, a quiet laugh escaping him. “Not sure that’s my thing.”

“Hey, it doesn’t have to be Dirty Dancing,” you said with a shrug. “But everyone deserves a good night out now and then. Even mysterious chef-next-door types.”

“I’ll think about it,” he said, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “But no promises.”

“Fair,” you replied, looking over at him with a soft smile. “I’m just saying, Chef Carmy, you can’t live in your kitchen forever. Sometimes you’ve gotta step out and find your own rom-com moment.”

Carmy stared at you for a moment, a small, genuine smile tugging at his lips. He shook his head, as though amused by something he couldn’t quite put into words, but the warmth in his expression lingered.

The hum of the machines filled the room, a soft backdrop to your easy conversation. What started as playful banter drifted into more thoughtful exchanges—small glimpses into each other’s lives, quirks, and histories.

Minutes melted into what felt like seconds, neither of you noticing the time slipping away. For once, it wasn’t about schedules, responsibilities, or the ever-present noise of the outside world. Just two neighbors sharing stories in the glow of the laundry room’s dim light.

A/N: So, thank you so much for all the support. It really keeps me going. I'm thinking of making like a small series of this, like a few interactions before they started dating- maybe some jealousy along the way lol- the first date- maybe the future but idk.

Also, just in case I do, please tell me if you would like to be tagged.

Part 4?

@themorriganisamonster

[takamiwife]

guys.

bear with me but

imagine

elementary teacher y/n

like okay

this mf might as well be on the payroll cuz..

keigo would fly by the window, especially if your room was on a higher floor, waving to the kids and disappearing when you turned around, and you would pretend you had no idea he was there, telling your kids “i think you guys are just imagining things” while trying not to smile, all while they insisted that mr. hawks was right there!!!

bro would be so popular during recess. he’d stop by to say hi when you’re on recess duty, but all of a sudden he’s got a line of kids in front of him who all want to fly with him (which he does, of course) (he got in trouble one time because he was distracted with this while someone was getting robbed lol). if the kids ask him to race, it seems that all of a sudden he’s lost all his speed, and they win every single time

oh no, a kid forgot their lunch at home?? that’s so funny bc when keigo bought you two lunch, they just happened to give him an extra meal, and that he’d just hate for it to go to waste

during christmas time, keigo sees you making little baggies to hand out to your kids before the holiday break (candy, pencils, etc), but decides those aren’t good enough for his your kids, and you two spend the day shopping for gifts for all of them, and they love it

oh the kids are giving you a rough day? guess who brought you your favorite drink and a snack to pick you up

one day you fell asleep while grading papers so keigo decided to do it for you, but he couldn’t read anything they wrote so everyone got 100s

he’d always ask you if any of the kids in your class needed anything like food or clothing, and you always assured him that if they did, there were programs in the school that helped them. so he definitely listened and did not make sure to put extra money in their weekly take-home bag of food. definitely not.

he drank a little too much at the staff christmas party and made far too many snarky comments at your coworker that’s been giving you a hard time

it seemed that when you would watch him play with the kids at recess, for a moment, it seemed he was little again, with tiny fluttering wings and a wide smile, far before the world was cruel to him

[abiatackerman]

Carraige Confessions

⚔️Levi Ackerman X Female Reader⚔️

Canon universe! Captain Levi Ackerman x Female Reader! Comedic fluff! Fluffy romance! Carriage riding! 1.3k words!

Summary: Your smile is adorable to Levi. Will he miss any chance to make you smile? Hell no. He'll make sure you smile even if it means he has to say some lame jokes to do so.

🩷If you wanna be tagged let me know🩷

Masterlist

Tags: @theremainsof @spouseofleviackerman @levisbrat25 @itsnathateasy @violentvaleska @anti-cupid @meowmewow7 @mikabella7 @satorella @sugacor3 @darkstarlight82

🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

"Oi Y/N! Get your ass away from the window! It’s dangerous!"

You are currently sitting near the small window of a carriage, head tilted slightly as you gaze out. Beyond the glass, rolling fields and scattered trees blur by under the golden hues of a setting sun. The gentle sway of the carriage rocks them, the occasional jolt from a bump in the road, reminding you of the uneven terrain.

Levi sits directly across, his posture straight as always, his arms crossed loosely. His sharp, steely gaze flits from you to the scenery outside before settling on you. The soft light filtering through the window catches in his dark hair and outlines his features in warm tones.

"Didn't you hear what I said?" Levi asks again, in an inpatient tone.

"You sure are pissed today. What's the problem?"

You ask with confusion, finally looking away from the window and facing him.

"I just hate horseback carriages, they're so bumpy and it makes my ass hurt. Why can't the damn government assign us a better transportation method? Horses are way better. Tch..."

Levi clicks his tongue as the carriage jolts lightly since one of it's wheels has rolled over a small bump in the road. He adjusts his position on the cushioned seat with a sharp inhale, his steel-gray eyes flicking briefly toward the window as if inspecting the road outside. The scene made you laugh a bit because you think it's funny that a simple carriage riding can hurt the humanity's strongest soldier's ass.

"It's not funny, Y/N. These stupid carriages don't do my ass any favors."

Levi speaks with annoyance as he looks back at you again from the road. You smile with adoration and decide to tease him a little.

"I didn't know the great Levi Ackerman was so sensitive to bumpy roads."

You say with a hint of amusement, you lips quirking up as you try to stop yourself from smiling.

Levi narrow his eyes narrow slightly, though there’s a flicker of something softer, perhaps amusement or fondness..... Beneath the annoyance.

"Sensitive?" he echoes, leaning back with a huff.

"I just have standards which the driver clearly lacks."

The carriage hits another bump and Levi clicks his tongue again. The soft creak of the leather seat beneath him is the only sound he makes as he adjusts his position, attempting to sit more comfortably despite the carriage’s jerky movement.

"If this keeps up, I'm getting out. I'm faster  than this damn thing."

He says dryly casting a glance at you, making you laugh again.

"I don't think so that will be a good idea because the road is muddy which is why we're taking the carraige in the first place. And if you walk, you shoes not to mention your clothes too will get dirty so.... Bear with it."

You say as you look outside the window again to check the condition of the road. You and Levi are currently heading to the farm where Historia is staying along with the orphans of the underground and taking care of them. Both you and Levi love going there and wherever you get a chance, you always go there with Levi to spend time with the kids.

"It's probably because of last night's raining."

Levi says, taking a glance at the road and then leans backwards in his seat.

"Doesn't change the fact that it's making my ass hurt."

Levi says with annoyance as he looks at you.

"It kinda sounds funny when you say the word ass" you say softly.

"What? Am I not allowed to swear now" he asks.

"Nope, not in front of the kids." You say shaking your head making Levi click his tongue.

"Well I can curse here, right? Ass, ass, ass, ass.  Am I funny now?" He says with a hint of amusement in his tone.

"Are you trying to make me laugh, captain?"

You say the word "captain" dramatically just to tease him.

"Because it kind of feels like that." You smile softly as you speak.

"Maybe it’s a side effect of being around you so long. You’re just so annoyingly adorable most of the time that I wanna see you smile."

He says while looking out the window almost looking distant for a split second. Also maybe because he don't want you to see the soft look on his face. And the hint of smile.....

"But don't forget, you can also be a pain in the ass sometimes too. A big one" he says nonchalantly, still looking out as he smirks softly.

"Hmm hmm, I know" You hum as you move to his seat and sit beside him.

"You're adorable," you say and press a soft kiss on his cheek while he's still looking outside the window. "And funny."

"Adorable, really? What if the other soldiers hear you say that and start to think I'm getting soft on them?"

He jokes back, slightly smiling at the kiss on his cheek. He takes the opportunity to put his arm around your shoulders, then pulling you closer.

"I don't know about the adorable thing but one time I said "Levi's funny" in front of Hange and Erwin and they looked at me like I've grown two heads." You speak smiling softly as you place your head on his shoulder.

"The only reason they reacted the was they did because I don't show anybody else this side of me."

He presses a kiss to your temple and clicks his tongue. "Tch, my ass is still sore."

"Maybe because you're getting old?" You tease as you laugh softly.

"I didn't hear you complaining last night, brat!" He smirks and pulls you a little closer. "Do I need to remind you of the sounds you were making?"

He speaks in a sensual calm tone with a hint of threat that makes your hormones go crazy.

"Ehm... I--"

Before you could speak, the carriage comes to a halt, and the driver swings the door open with a practiced motion. Levi clicks his tongue, his expression betraying his annoyance.

"Couldn't drive properly but sure did ruined our moment... Worst coachman ever."

He mutters under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear. Despite the interruption, you can't help but smile, the corners of your lips curving upward at the sight of Levi's rare frustration.

As he helpes you down from the carriage, his hand lingered just a second longer than necessary on yours while he squeezed your hand, reminding you that he hasn't forgotten and that he won't hesitate to take his time with you tonight either.

[funnybearkidsclothes]

kids wear manufacturer in Kolkata

Funny Bear is a premium & sustainable kids clothing brand in India, catering to boys & girls aged 0–5 years, based in Kolkata, India. We started as a small garment manufacturing unit in Howrah, the industrial part of West Bengal. Funny Bear has been engaged in kids wear manufacturing & exporting apparel industry. Now we have a big capacity to manufacture kids garments. Contact us if you are a wholesaler or distributor wanting to bulk purchase high-quality Funny Bear branded Wholesale baby clothes, wholesale kids clothes, baba suit for boys, baba suit for baby girl from baby garments manufacturers in Kolkata. We have a garment factory in Kolkata, a highly skilled workforce, experienced staff & more than 30 years of manufacturing expertise.

kids wear manufacturer in Kolkata

[echantedtoon]

A Lovers' Circle (Poly Haishira x Reader) Ch15 Setting Hearts A Blaze

(There'll be a small time skip as things will be repetitive until we cut over to the Rengoku household.Plus a funny meme I made for fun.)

Taglist: @shadyd3ar @jcrml

@tengensangel @miniverse-zen @mysteri0uz @jjamsbangtan

@the-unknown-fandom

@lavenderdropp @mimisweetz. @purplesoulsapphire

@kksmush @denkpanda18 @whomisi @lessthanimperfect @silver-rin

@rotting-alone @namis-noodlebox

@k1ttyluverz @akiramente

@rascalraccoon @ravenclawkae1

@gilded-sunrays @crescent-blades

@yukari1k

Remember if you want to be added to the taglist lemme know

The sounds of traffic and wheels on the road was all that filled the early morning air as you stifled a yawn threatening to leak out of your mouth. It was rather early but you promised to drive your Aunt to the airport the day after Halloween. You hadn't gotten much sleep the night prior staying late at the party and spending a lot of time removing glittery make up on your skin. On top of that you were going to be a little late for work because of said trip you had to take.

"Thank you so much for dropping me off, Hun. These late night readings are killing my posture," your aunt said stretching out an arm. "Now I know why women my age get grey hairs! HAHA!"

You rolled your eyes at her joke before slowly coming to a stop at a stop sign. A giant suitcase was behind her in the passenger seat and you were ninety nine percent sure it was mostly packed up with fliers and other business promotional things. Not something you thought would be taken to a wedding but then again you  were talking about your aunt here. Nothing she did ever made sense.

"It's not a problem. And I did promise I would." Turning on your turn signal, you turned left going on down the road where you could make out the airport just a little bit aways. "When are you coming back?"

She waved a hand. "Two or three days from now. I'll call a taxi when I get back don't worry. I just appreciate you being nice enough to take me." She then smiled at you before reaching out to ruffle your hair like a kid. "You're a good kid. Now I can see why that big teddy bear likes you so much!"

"Not while I'm driving," you waved her hand off but smiled. "But I guess so. I feel so lucky to have him after everything that happened. It was like life finally decided to stop making me it's punching bag ....At least when it comes to dating."

The older woman smiled more. "He's a good one. I predicted a happy healthy like for you two."

"You mean when you read his palm without asking him first?"

She shrugged. "He didn't mind and everything I saw was predicable anyhoo- You still haven't let me read yours."

"Because I don't believe in those things no offense. Besides the last time you read my palm, you said I would 'be so beautiful many men and women will fall for me'." You rolled your eyes again putting on your turn signal again before slowly turning into the air port's parking lot. "And that was five years ago get it still hasn't happened."

"Give it time! My foresights always come true sooner or later." She smiled despite you sighing in response. "WHELP! Looks like I've got a date with the skies! See you in a few days!" She had just grabbed onto the car and was about to open it and step out-

"Wait!" In question she turned back around with a raised brow at you as you started patting down your clothes and frantically digging around in your pockets until you eventually pulled out something. Well a lot of somethings. "I need your help with something."

"Oh?" What she thought was a deck of cards, was actually..a deck of cards but not the playing card variety. It seemed to be a stack of business cards that was held up to her.

"There's someone who's loosing business really badly. He runs a dojo somewhere around here and I feel like I want to help him. I know you're pretty good at networking and know everyone there is..Do you think you can help?"

The softer eyes of the older woman eyed you in interest before glancing at the business cards. Taking them with a hum and eyeing the words inked onto their flimsy cardboard bodies... Before she smiled. 

"I think I can do something with these. I'm surprised you want to help a stranger so badly."

You shrugged. "I don't know why I want to...it just feels like the right thing to do. Plus he's one of Gyomei's friends. It might be good to try and get along with them."

Your aunt hummed again and you flinched as she suddenly grabbed your hand. Looking at the palm very closely and her brows rising in some kind of realization. "Interesting."

"What is?"

"Oh, nothing.~" She giggled dropping your hand and waving you off. "Don't worry about a thing honey. Just leave everything to me. By the end of this month, everyone is gonna flock to ya!"

Your face turned to confusion. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh you'll find out soon enough. Oh. Look at the time! I better go before I miss my flight. You better get going before you're late too."

You hadn't the foggiest idea of what your eccentric aunt was talking about but shrugged it off as her being eccentric again. With he out of your car, you just made the long drive back home and to the college where you were unsurprisingly late and trudged yourself into the daycare tired and sore. Hopefully the children behaved especially good today so you wouldn't have to worry about anything else other than being scolded by your boss. 

"You look sleepy, Ms. Y/n," one little girl pointed out as soon as you slowly walked into the large playroom trying to tie your apron in the back.

....Yeah. Today might be a very long day for you. 

Unluckily the comment made by the little girl, whom you gently shooed to go listen to a story someone else was reading to other kids, was not missed by your boyfriend who looked up from where he was wiping glitter glue off a toy someone dropped on top of the arts and crafts table. You couldn't help the tired sigh that escaped you as Gyomei was quick to walk on over and you felt his form practically loom over you as his head tilted.

"You're tired." It wasn't a question, it was a statement that you winced at. 

"A little bit."

"I thought I asked you to stay home if you didn't get enough sleep."

You waved him off despite the fact that he obviously couldn't see you. "I'm not gonna pass out. I'm just a little bit tired, and I have things to do today."

"Such as?"

Working? Getting today's notes from Giyuu, the project you have with him, and you promised to bake a few things for everyone.  Not to mention grocery shopping, bills, cleaning up your house-

You jumped as a large hand suddenly tilted your head back up towards the staring white eyes. "None of that." He spoke as if he could literally read your mind. "After work I want you to go right home and rest. I'll inform Shinobu and Tomioka you won't be able to make the appointment today."

"W-What? But I promised them I'd do it with them not to mention that I also-"

A warmth presses against your head making you instantly turn red and a few little kids gagged and closed their eyes at the sight. One pointed at you both with a disgusted face.

"Ew, Mr. Mei! That's cooties!," she accused him to which he chuckled at her and smiled 

"Perhaps so. But I meant what I said." You were wide awake now as he patted the top of your head. "Go home and rest. If you don't I'll just take your keys and carry you home myself."

"Yo-Yo-You're bluffing!"

He hummed. "Am I?"

You decided against wanting to see if he'd actually do that and quickly scurried away when one of the younger toddlers cried out in frustration at his building blocks falling over again and again. His chubby little hands and waddle walk keeping knocking over the blocks he did stack up again and again. You'd have to console him and played with the little guy to make sure he was having a good time. 

Things weren't really too much different for the rest of the day. You did your job and helped to start clean up and check out the kids as their parents started arriving. However you didn't see Sanemi turn up. It wasn't even Kanae. Or Giyuu or Shinobu or even Mitsuri whom you were pretty good friends with by now. Instead you were treated to the sight of a tall and visibly muscular man whom walked in through the doorway. Orange hair framing his brightly smiling face and just as fiery eyes blinking around until they settled on you.

With a beaming smile he walked right up to you and you blinked as he stood before you. "HELLO, Y/N!!"

You winced at the high volume but still smiled. "Hi, Kyojuro." You greeted the positive man. "What are you doing here?"

"I've been sent to fetch Koto!," he proclaimed hands on his hips, "Sanemi's running late with his tutoring classes so he asked me to come get Koto for him!"

You blinked. "Really? I don't remember Sanemi telling me this and it's policy to call ahead of time for alternate pick ups."

His head tilted like an owl. "Really? He told the front desk lady this morning."

Oh right. You weren't here that morning. You held up a hand. "Let me go ask real quick. No offense. It's just part of the job."

"NO OFFENSE TAKEN!!"

You still chuckled despite yourself and left for just a few minutes. Confirmed with a coworker who was there that morning. And then returned a moment later with Koto on your hip and his daycare bag Sanemi always dropped off with him slung over your shoulder. The toddler was fiddling with a little car but let out a happy gasp upon seeing the red haired man.

"Ren-Ren!," he cheered throwing up his hands excitedly, "Hi!"

"Hello, Koto!" He greeted holding out his arms to the toddler. "Did you have a fun day?"

Koto was happily accepted into his arms with a nod. "Uh huh! Miss Toji reads us Beauty n da beast."

"Ooh. A fun story."

"Where's Nemi?"

"He's late, but I'm gonna take you to the park while we wait."

"YAY!!"

You chuckled at the adorable sight of him holding  up the bag. "Here. You'll be needing this. How's Mrs. Shinazugawa by the way?"

"Thank you!" The bag was taken away from you before he again tilted his head in question. Like he seemed to be studying you for a second. "She is doing better. Still a little stressed about paying back everything, but eventually she will and everything will go back to normal for everyone involved. However I believe that you had a hand in her soon to be relief."

You blinked at him. "Oh. You mean the money." He nodded and you hummed. "Well like I told everyone else, he just needed it more than me."

"A thousand dollars and free food for an entire year are a hard thing to give up for most people..and yet you have it all away to a at the time complete stranger."

You winced. "That's not totally true. I-..I didn't really think about giving it to him at first. Really I didn't think of anyone else but myself at first but-.."

"But?," he asked raising a brow in question as you sighed.

"I dunno. I didn't really have a mom growing up so-"...You looked down fingers drumming on the countertop. "So I guess seeing him trying so hard to help his mom made me feel really sorry for him. Maybe it's something I'd wanna do too if my mom was around y'know..Uh.." You stopped when you saw him intently staring at you Koto mindlessly toying with his toy. "Uh. S-Sorry. Didn't mean to ramble on."

"Please. Do not apologize for the honesty. It's rare for someone to have an honest heart and even rather for them to admit things we may not be proud up." His smile got even wider if that was possible. "I can now see why you were able to make such great friends with everyone. You're a good person!"

Despite yourself a small pink appeared on your face, hand waving at him. "Shucks. Stop it. You're embarrassing me. Oh. That reminds me. How's your dad doing? Anything change?"

He shook his head. "Not yet but a few of Senjuro's classmates have shown interest in the dojo! We just have to remain optimistic and keep working at it!"

Ah. So your aunt hadn't worked her magic yet. Makes sense. It hasn't even been a whole day yet...Eh. you really shouldn't expect results to just happen like that. It was as unrealistic as her predicting that men and women would fall for you like some badly written fantasy story.

You nodded. "We gotta look on the bright side of things for sure! Anyways it was nice to see you again, Kyojuro. I hope to see you again sometime."

"INDEED! And thank you again for those delicious cookies! Everyone loved them!"

"Cookies?"

"Not for you I'm afraid!" In one movement the energetic man turned on his heel towards the door. "Now come! The swing sets and slides await us!"

"Yay! Swings!"

You couldn't help but laugh at the goofy man as he left with the giggling child. He certainly was a bright fellow. Everything would be ok. You were sure of that. Even if your efforts did nothing, surely the Rengoku's would be able to get by well.

Days passed by. 

The October fall being kissed goodbye slowly as the leaves still fell and gave way to that weird time of the months of November where the cool of fall was merging with the soon to be cold of winter and snow. Jackets, scarfs, and mittens were already being seen on so many walking around. 

It was on one of these days that a slow miracle was creeping up to its unsuspecting gift-y. Not quite a Christmas miracle but it'll do in a pinch for what was to be taken place that evening. A hot bowl of soup and a little bit of rice was always a quick and nice meal for a cold night like this. The kind of meal that'd help to cheer him up and reminded him just how much he loved his wife's cooking when the tray was placed in front of him and a warm kiss was pressed to his lips for a second.

Smiles were always his favorite part of her. Couldn't get enough of it as she smiled at him. "Here. I made some miso soup today. It ought to help you warm up after all the work you did."

Hard work? If you can call cleaning a barely used dojo and moping around all day hard work. He would've laughed at himself if he hadn't felt so frustrated with himself right now. Instead he kept quiet and pulled the bowl closer to him muttering a barely audible thanks. Her smile slowly gave way to a sad frown before she sighed and turned away. Slowly allowing herself to start preparing her own meal and a second tray for her youngest boy. She'd take him a meal as he was busy studying for a few exams before the Christmas break. 

The scooping of hot soup sloshing around in the pot was only paused when the distant sounds of a familiar beeping noise cascaded through the air. Catching her attention and only making her husband grunt again.

"Are you going to answer that?"

She didn't answer him. Letting the ladle spoon plop back down into the soul with a watery noise and quickly making her way towards the den where no doubt the home phone was ringing out for someone to answer it. It was not too long before the cold plastic was picked up from the receiver and help up to her ear. 

"Yes?"...Red eyes blinked. "Oh? I wasn't expecting a call from you. Is everything alright?" Her head turned around back towards the man still lazily picking at his soul with a spoon and not eating it. "Yes....Alright then."

Pitiful eyes didn't look up from the sloshing liquid of the soup even as footsteps approached back softly or even when he saw a pair of legs stop at his side out of the corner of his eyes. But he did blink as something was held out to his face. Took him two seconds to realize that it was a phone, and it took him one more second to look back up to his wife in question.

"Dear, it's Mr. Ubuyashiki."

A blink. "Who?"

"He's the chairman of Senjuro's school." The phone was nudged closer to him. "He wants to talk to you."

What? He grunted looking annoyed. "So? What does he want? If Senjuro's done something then-"

"Dear, please just speak to him."

There was a small three second pause before with an annoyed look the phone was taken from her and reluctantly held up to his ear. "Yes?"

"Ah! A different voice!" The voice of the phone was a man's. Clearly one he's never heard before. "Am I to assume that this is the husband of my wonderful calligraphy teacher?"

"What do you want?" He wasn't in the mood for the cheery bull that this voice seemed to have.

"Straight to the point then I see! Then I won't beat around the bush." The voice chuckled but gained a more professional feeling with it. "I heard that you are quite a coach!"

...Another blink. "What?"

"Recently I attended a little celebration of a good friend's son. Your name happened to be on a little business card handed out to me and I was reminded of your son. Polite young man he is."

"What is the point to this? Either spit it out or I'll hang up!" He REALLY was not in the mood to be talking to a man that liked to make random small chit chat even with the stern frown his wife was giving him.

"Of course," the man remained polite and patient despite his annoyance. "It reminded me of the petition Senjuro presented to me a little bit ago to start a kendo club. Usually I wouldn't mind clubs but one of our biggest school sponsors thought it would be a great idea to have an official kendo league added to our school. Frankly I couldn't agree more."

Huh. So his youngest finally did something worthwhile huh?...Guess that was good for him but-

"What does that have to do with me?"

"Well naturally if we're to add kendo to our track and other sports teams we'll be in need of a coach to teach said sport." He completely froze at his words. "But unfortunately we have none."

The world seemed to slow down as the silence continued to stare off at nothing. His throat suddenly felt dry as he swallowed thickly in order to not let his neck to become a desert. "What..are you getting at?"

"Mr. Shinjuro I've heard quite a good deal about you from your wife and others. I'd love to hire you as one of our new sports coaches starting next semester! And have you coach our new established kendo team if that's an option for you."

CLINK. CLI-CLINK.

Ruka blinked as the spoon dropped from her husband's hand and clattered to the table flinging small droplets of miso soup around the oak wood surface. Her brow rose higher at the wide eyed stare he seemed to have. Like he just saw a ghost.

"Honey? Are you ok?"

[angel-of-the-moons]

Marc x reader smut where reader is down in the dumps and is getting insecure of not being good enough (compared to Layla) and hates that but can’t help it so Marc figures this out and fucks the insecurity outta reader?

More Than Enough

Marc Spector x Fem!Reader (Implied Steven/Jake x Reader)

TW/CW: NSFW, Smut, Feelings of inadequacy, unprotected PiV, Mirror Sex, Praise, Mostly-clothed sex, Marc has a few of his own issues and is not a licensed psychologist

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

A/N: I am so sorry this has been sitting in my ask box for so goddamn long, enjoy the word vomit aksbldbldbld

You knew it was a stupid thing to worry about, your insecurity. You felt... sub-par.

Compared to other people, compared to other women, compared to... her.

You could tell they had something special at one point, something almost-unbreakable. But then the issue with Steven realizing who he was, hunting Harrow, fighting Ammit, finding out Marc was there when her father was murdered... Jake goddamn Lockley...

Layla el Faouly was, honestly, a head-turner. She was funny, smart, beautiful and had a way of getting people to open up to her.

Even you, to a point. But you still felt inadequacy, even a bit of envy when it came to Layla. She was with Marc for so long--hell they had been married!

You couldn't keep lying to yourself, and you couldn't keep lying to them. So... You came clean. And the look Marc gave you made you wilt.

It was even worse because he was silent. You couldn't bear to be under his scrutiny so you turned around and wrapped your arms around yourself, staring into the floor-length mirror with a mixture of shame and embarrassment.

Your eyes darted towards Marc's reflection. At first, you thought he was looking at you; but then you realized he was having a mental conversation with Steven and Jake about the situation. You wished you could be privy to those conversations, worrying about any possible arguments that may be waging behind his eyes.

Your shoulders drop and you sigh, eyes closing. "Just--forget I said anything? Please, I'm sorry that I..."

Your eyes open and you instinctively gasp--Marc was standing right behind you, his dark and stormy eyes locking with that of your reflection's. "M-Marc--"

"You fuckin' kidding me, doll?" Marc asked you, frowning. The tone of his voice alone made you wince.

"I--I'm sorry, I shouldn't have..." You try.

"Damn right you shouldn't have."

You squeeze your eyes shut once more, hating yourself as that stone of regret pings around in your belly.

That is, until he growled, hands bunching your shirt at your waist, yanking you against him, his lips barely curling into a snarl at your ear, "Cause that's my girlfriend you're fucking talking about."

You shiver, a small gasp coming from you as Marc's mouth was on your throat; licking, kissing, mouthing away at your skin, making goosebumps prickle across your body.

His mouth comes to a halt for a split second, his eyes focusing on his reflection once more; "...Right. Our girlfriend."

He takes a small bit of your skin between his teeth and nips; "And we know for a fact that our girlfriend isn't doubting for a single fucking second if she's "good enough" for us."

"I... I just..." You babble as his grip goes white-knuckled in your shirt.

You gasp loudly when he grips just a fraction tighter and rips your shirt open, the buttons flying in different directions in the room, skittering across the floor to be hidden until Steven's next "cleaning day" spree.

"M-Marc! My shirt--"

"Is hidin' you. Gotta show you what you're blind to, baby." He muttered against your skin, his hands spreading over your belly, one going up to pluck at the bra you wore. It wasn't fancy or sexy by any means. Just one of those stretchy, mesh, wire-free ones you opted to wear when you didn't want your skin irritated by the wires and elastics fo your typical ones.

"Wearing Steven's favorite one, today." Marc hisses in your ear, groping at one of your breasts through the fabric, running his thumb over the bump of your nipple as your heart begins to pound.

"I... I didn't--"

"Wanna know why he likes it?" Marc asked, biting onto your earlobe, grabbing the loops of your jeans to tug you against him; allowing him to grind the growing bulge of his cock against the curve of your ass.

One of his fingers pluck the stretchy fabric, letting it go to ever so slightly smack against your skin; "Because it don't fucking hurt you. Because, it looks way more natural--way more comfortable."

He chuckles warmly, a soft smile playing on his lips, "That, and the way that they bounce more in this bra than the others tends to distract him, too. Makes these," His index finger swirles over the bump of your nipple once more. "way more visible."

Shame and the heat of your self-esteem make your cheeks flush, and you look away. Marc frowned stubbornly, "Baby..."

"Marc, I don't think that I'm..."

He growled again, the typical sound that came from him when he was frustrated. He'd never used it on you, before; so the sound made a thrill run down your spine.

He shoves his hand from your bra to the front of your pants, yanking the button open and pulling your fly down. He hastily shoved the denim down your thighs, revealing your soft, lacy panties.

They were a dark gray color, with bits of green and red--vines and roses across the lace. They left very little to the imagination, but they were so soft sometimes you'd forget you were wearing any at all.

"Damn, baby... wearin' Jake's favorite, too?" He grinned against the skin of your shoulder, staring down your reflection with the hardened gaze of a soldier sighting down his target.

His rough and calloused hand stroked over the fabric, his fingers dipping low to tease the seam of your panties, feeling a damp spot that was slowly spreading. It never failed; you were light a string in a guitar, waiting to be plucked so the most melodious of tunes would come from your weet lips.

Marc continued to stroke your damp panties for a moment, humming against your soft skin. "Wanna know what the favorite thing that you're wearin'?"

"Wh-what?" You breathe.

Marc withdrew his hand and gently encapsulated your fragile wrist in his fingers, holding your left hand up, where a gold ring was snugly fit around your ring finger; "This. This here means that you're mine. That you're ours. So don't you think for a minute that you're second-best, that you're not good enough for us."

In that moment, you felt stupid all over again. How could you forget? The weight of the ring felt so obvious to you, now. Marc's fingers caress the cool metal, smiling in a gentle way at your hand.

"Baby, you gotta understand... You're right."

Your heart thudded against the delicate cage of your ribs as he let that sentence hang in the air, keeping you in suspense.

"You're not Layla. You're nothin' like her." He continued, "You're you. You're funny, you're soft-spoken, you have a habit of always finding animals to play with and pet when we go out... And that little giggle-snort you do when you laugh so hard you're outta breath? All. You. We fucking love every single goddamn piece of you, baby. So... Please stop comparing yourself to Layla... If you keep doing that, you'll just tear yourself up inside until you're all hollow. Believe me, I did it so much that... well, you know what happened."

He brings your hand up and kisses your knuckles, "And we can't have you falling apart on us... you're the closest thing we have to normal... we need you."

Your heart squeezed in your chest and you sniffled, feeling tears well up in your eyes as your lip wobbled. Lingering feelings of doubt still clung to your subconscious, even in the face of all of Marc's affirmations, "But... but I don't feel like I'm good enough, Marc... Sometimes... sometimes I just feel so useless, and..."

Marc grunts, the sound coming from his nose in a hefty exhale as he drops your hand. "Alright... Maybe you need a little extra convincing."

You almost turn, confused by what he meant, when his hand flattened between your shoulders, shoving you against the mirror so your hands were spread across the reflective glass.

"M-Marc--!"

"Shush, and don't you stop looking at that mirror. Want you to see how fuckin' pretty you are while I fuck you." He murmurs, leaning back to undo his own jeans, hastily shoving the and his boxers down to free his cock, red and throbbing.

His rolled his hips against you, his cock grinding against the soft lace of your panties, smearing a small droplet of precum onto the fabric. Marc lifted his eyes to lock with yours in the mirror.

"Don't look at me, baby. Already told you."

Your breath leaves you in a stutter, your eyes dragging down to look at your own flushed face; your parted lips and torn shirt, your breasts heaving, the soft fabric stretched across them as their soft weight swayed and bounced as Marc maneuvered your body.

He slides your underwear off to the side, gripping the base of his shaft as he slides the tip of his cock through your budding wetness. Your eyes go wide when you feel his tip catch at your entrance, and you barely have a moment to breathe as he slams his hips against you, sinking inside of your body in one fluid thrust.

The stretchy was sudden; the lack of proper preparation left you with a stinging sensation that battled evenly with the pleasure of having his thick cock settle deep inside of you as he pressed against you; the dark hairs at the base of his cock tickled the skin of your ass.

"Baby, you're--fuck." He whined, his brows creasing as a stray curl falls over his forehead as he bows forward, relishing in the moment how good it felt to have your soft, velvety heat wrap and cling around him.

"Shit, honey." Marc sighed after what felt like eons; his hands stroking and gripping the flesh of your ass in his meaty palms. "You're like fuckin' heaven..."

He pulled back once, and slammed back in, making you cry out as the burn and ecstasy once more fight each-other in a bare-handed brawl; making your eyes roll back and flutter closed. God, why did it feel so good?

His mouth was at your ear, his voice tight and strained as he rocked his hips into yours, his cock sliding in and out of you easier and easier as the pleasure began to mount; tickling your spine. "...and I should know, angel..." Marc grunted. "I was in heaven for a little while..."

"Marc..." You whimpered, dropping your head as he began to pound into you, your chest burning with every heavy breath you took as Marc roughly crammed his cock inside of you, pressing hard on every single spot inside that had your head swimming with euphoria.

"Gh--fuck!" Marc barked, grabbing a fistful of your hair (carefully, ind you, he didn't want to hurt you at all) and pulled your head back so he could see your face, "I told you... watch yourself, baby. Don't look away."

You hiccup. Marc was fucking you so roughly from behind that you were almost concerned the pressure you were putting on the mirror would shatter it.

"That's it..." Marc groaned, his eyes rolling back with a blissful sigh as he tipped his head back.

You could see his Adam's apple bob, his jaw tighten as he fucked into you like a rutting dog. His hand lets your hair go and slides down your back, beneath the fabric of your torn shirt to caress the curve and contour of your spine.

Marc's eyes meet yours in the reflection, and his lips quirk up as he gives you another sharp thrust; your voice punching out of you in a breathless cry.

"Baby... do I gotta tell you again?" He sighed, gripping you by the back of your elbows and yanking you upright against him, so your back was pressed against his chest.

You groaned in bliss as you felt him shift inside of you. This position was new... and not unpleasant.

One of his hands curls around you, gripping your chin and jerking your head up, snarling in your ear; "Fuckin' watch, baby."

Your eyes slide down, and between your spread legs, your panties hastily shoved aside... You could see Marc's cock pull out almost to the tip before he slammed his hips up, rutting up into you in another frantic thrust.

"'m gonna show you how fuckin' good you are to us... Even if it means I gotta prove it to you all night long."

He slammed into you once more, his lips curling against your ear as he watches himself disappear inside of you.

"Even if Steven and Jake gotta take over after. I'm done with you."

[shy-canadian-snowflake]

Hi! I’m the anon that asked for 46. I think you did really well considering you might have never watched the Nanny before. I have another for you.

Poolverine 1.soulmate au. Here’s a soulmate prompt if you want; All the nicknames your soulmate will eventually call you is written on you. Logan would have the most embarrassing nicknames on him from Wade, they would be sugary sweet or just ridiculous. The x-men reaction to seeing them, the image of a big, scary man being called the most sugary pet names by their soulmate would be hilarious. You don’t have to do it of course just a funny idea I have in my head.

Logan didn’t take his shirt off often. He was always in a tank top and some heavy jacket, covering his chest and arms. None of the X-Men seemed to notice at first, until summer came around and still the man was seen in heavy clothing. During training, during game time, during everything, his body was covered.

That was until Rogue crept into his room, again, and woke him from a nightmare, again, and he skewered her, again. He couldn’t help but scream as the light started fading from her eyes. He held her close, allowing himself to be drained again. All the commotion caused the X-Men to come running in to see Logan in sleeping shorts, holding a now healed Rogue with all his future nicknames written across his skin. 

Ororo was the first to react, grabbing a blanket and pulling the passed out girl from Logan’s hold. Logan sat there on the floor panting as Rogue started to come to, being held by Ororo. 

“You okay kid?” He asked breathing hard. The girl slowly nodded.

“That really hurt.” She half mumbled before pulling out of Ororo’s hold. She shook herself out and stood up. Logan did the same, allowing the rest of the X-Men to see the words scrolled across his skin. 

Sugar Tits under his pecks. Sweetpea down by his right hip. Babygirl above that. Sugar Plum Princess going down his left side. His whole torso looked like a game of scrabble, words connecting to one another. Darling, Sweetheart, KittyCat, Mr. Stabby, Babycakes, Big Spoon, Sweetcheeks, Peanut covered his chest while his arms held Baby, Stud Muffin, Hubba Bubba, Angel, Handsome Man, Hero, Sir-Stabs-Alot Beloved, Heart,  Pooh Bear, McSteamy. Those were the one’s easily seen, Logan knew his back was covered with even more words. 

“Not a fucking word Glasses.” Logan hissed as the other X-Men took him in. Scott couldn’t help the smile on his lips. 

“Of course Peanut.” There was something in the way Scott said that nickname that had his blood boiling. 

“Stop it Scott.” Jean scolded lightly. “I think it’s sweet Logan. You should show off your endearments. Someone really truly does love you.” He scoffed and grabbed a jacket to cover up his marks. The room slowly filtered out after that as he lit up a cigar and started puffing on it. 

No one brought up the words after that. Logan kept them covered much to the chagrin of curious eyes. His fellow X-Men never mentioned them, though there was always a teasing smile to Scott who’d occasionally dropped one of the nicknames, spitting it out as if it was an insult. Logan would turn away and find something to destroy when it became too much. 

That’s how he found himself in a warehouse on the other side of town. Goons were thrown around the place as he slowly picked off a group of thugs. All he knew was this group needed to be taken down, and he needed to blow off steam. 

“Well damn Mr. Stabby, you took this group down like Harry Potter took down Voldemort.” Logan looked up to the rafters where the voice was coming from.  “Usin’ the same damn move over and over again until it somehow worked out.” 

“Do we have a problem here, Bub?” He asked with his claws still out. He bared his teeth at the other man in the tight red suit. The man jumped from the rafters, doing a backflip like it was nothing. He landed with his arms up as if he was a gymnast who was ready for their score. Logan only raised an eyebrow.

“No problem here. Well kinda no problem. A tiny problem.” The man jabbered on as he looked over the bodies. “One of these motherfuckers has a USB stick. Kinda super important.” 

“Not my problem.” Logan turned around to leave.

“Oh come on! From one Merc to another, did you see it at all?” 

“I’m not a Merc.” He snapped over his shoulder. The man in red let out a huge sigh and started shifting through bodies. 

-

“GodfuckingDamnit!” Logan didn’t know why he recognized that voice at first until he saw the man in red again, this time he was punching a wall over and over again as he spoke. “My god damn cocaine! You Goody-Two-Shoes can’t come up in my warehouse and take my cocaine!”

“We can when it’s in connection with missing mutants.” The man mimicked Scott for a moment before leaning back. 

“I don’t have anything to do with missing mutants. I’m a good little boy who gets his cocaine from the same drug lord on East Street that everyone else does. What he does besides sell cocaine is none of my fucking business.” It was then that the Merc saw Logan and yelled over at him. “Babycakes! Tell these ‘nice’ X-Men I’m innocent!”

Logan glared and made his way over to the pare. Scott gave him a raised brow but Logan ignored him to deal with the man in red. 

“What the hell are you doing here, Bub?” 

“This is where I store my extra cocaine. And guns. And stuff I've stolen, not the point. The point is you have no right to touch my shit.” He dramatically crossed his arms. 

“We are just looking for a thumb drive. Tell us where it is, and you can get back too…this.” Scott waved his hand over the mess of the warehouse. 

“It’s up my ass, or is that my prostate?” Scott looked disgusted at the man’s words. 

“I will stick my claws up there to find it, Mouth.” His claws snikt out as he moved his hand down the man’s body. 

“Well Darling, buy me dinner first and you can put whatever you want up there.” The man’s mask winked at him.

“Fucking jokes.” Scott stopped him before he could claw the guy open. 

“You tell us where the thumb drive is, and we won’t report you to the police.” The man in red tilted his head as if he was thinking about it for a moment before dramatically sighing. 

“Fine, only because this shit is expensive. Not everyone gets a private jet to cause crime.” Scott looked like he wanted to correct the other but was shut up by the man in red talking again. “I sold it to get more cocaine. Nabbed it off a dead guy and sold it back to my cocaine guy. Got half of this shit for doing that. Don’t say Deadpool isn’t helping the local economy.” 

“So we are back at square one. Can you tell us where his hideout is?” 

“No point. Sir-Stabs-Alot here took out those guys days ago.” Scott gave Logan his ‘We are going to talk about this later’ look. “Can you guys go now, I have cocaine to do and people to kill.”

“Don’t get in our way.” Was all Scott said to Deadpool before calling the team to head out. Logan left his middle claw out to the man who blew him kisses as they left.

“Care to tell the class what the fuck is going on?” Scott said the moment they were back on the plane. Logan strapped himself in tights and gave a hard swallow. Don’tgetsickdon’tgetsickdon’tgetsick. Flying was never something he liked doing. “How do you know this Deadpool guy?”

“Few days ago, needed to blow off steam. Found a warehouse where some low level gang was- at least you tagged them as low level.” He glared at Scott before swallowing hard again as nausea came up his throat. “He was there. Said he needed to get a USB stick. He called himself a Merc. That’s all I know.”

“What about the nicknames?” It was Logan’s turn to raise a brow. 

“The hell you going on about Glasses?” Everyone turned to Scott for a second. 

“Babycakes, Darling, Sir-Stabs-A Lot.” 

“It's a coincidence.” Logan hissed, looking away from everyone. The plane ride was silent after that. 

-

“Hey there Babygirl” Deadpool said casually as Logan entered the building with his claws out. “What’s a place like this doing with a guy like you?” Logan looked up to see the man sitting at a counter in the middle of the room. It looked like a lobby of some sort, dead bodies thrown around like dolls covered the floor. Logan could smell blood, and a lot of it. 

“Okay Red, what the hell is going on here?” 

“Welcome to the big bad’s HQ. Little cheesy being an old office building. Heard they did a reno on the basement 6 months ago. Happen to have the blueprints right here.” Deadpool waved a thumb drive in the air as he spoke. Logan groweld. 

“You had that this whole time?” The man jumped off the counter before putting the thumb drive back into a pouch around his waist. 

“Sure did! I told you where it was. Not my fault that you didn’t believe me.” He wiggled his hips back and forth. 

“You are disgusting.” He took another step forward with his claws out. Deadpool raised his hands in mock surrender. 

“Down Kitty Cat. I want to know how you found the hideout. Did you have to join the crew and level up in rank? Or did you triangulate the last three pickup sites of mutants and found that his building was in the middle of everything? Or-”

“We know his name and looked up what buildings he owns.” Deadpool instantly deflated. 

“That’s so not fun, Peanut. Oh well.” He jumped back up looking ready to fight. “Want to take this downstairs and take down the big bad together?”

“Fine, but don’t get in my way.” 

Deadpool did in fact get in Logan’s way a few times. After accidentally stabbing the man twice, then stabbing him on purpose three times, they finally made it to the basement where they released all the mutants and were left with the big bad. Deadpool killed him while he was in the middle of a monologue, saying something about runtime and only one monologue per chapter.

It was when they were headed back upstairs that Logan finally saw it, right where the man’s costume was cut open on the chest. Written in his handwriting ‘Bub.’

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” Logan hissed, pulling down more of the man’s suit. 

“Hey woah hey, I wasn’t kidding about dinner, Stud Muffin.” 

“Shut your mouth Red. Look.” Logan pointed to the word Red under the Merc’s peck. Deadpool looked on in confusion. Not wanting to play this game, Logan took off his own suit top, showing off his scrabbled upper body. 

“No fucking way.” Deadpool’s jaw dropped behind his mask as his fingers started brushing along the words Logan had littering his chest. 

“Yes fucking way.”

“Damn. I got really fucking lucky. Hairy tits and all, you are a solid 10/10. You are stuck with a -10/10.” He paused for a moment before pulling up his mask so Logan could get his first real look on his so-called soulmate. 

The first thing Logan noticed was the pretty eyes the other man had. Pretty eyes and a sad smile. It took him a moment to realize the other was bald. And it took a few more after that to finally notice the scars. His own hand came up, his thumb brushed along the Merc’s bottom lip. 

“You are something pretty, Darlin’” Was what Logan said before pulling away. “Come-on, let's go get dinner.”

This was meant to be less than 1000 words. Oh well! :D I enjoyed writing this one a lot, thanks for the Ask and the amazing prompt!

[marlynnofmany]

Paws in a Circle

There’s a poster I saw once, back on Earth, that had a silhouette of a bear with deer antlers, and it was labeled “Beer.” I had forgotten about it completely until I met our newest client, who by that logic was definitely a beer.

I’d already done my part of the interaction by carrying out one of the heavier boxes, so while the captain went over the delivery fees with her, I was free to stare politely and decide which other Earth animals she resembled. (Fur coloring more like a red fox, and semi-upright posture that was less bear and more extinct giant ground sloth.)

I was so focused on watching the client handle the datapad with her giant paws that I completely missed it when the hovercar behind her sprung a fuel leak.

Paint saw it, though. “Oh! Your car!” she yelped, pointing. “I’ll get Mimi!” She was off in a flash of orange scales, back into the ship in search of our mechanic.

The client growled a swear word that didn’t translate, shoved the datapad back at Captain Sunlight, then galloped over to her car. While I expected her to throw open the hood in search of the part that was leaking, she instead made a beeline for the back seat.

When she threw open that door, I saw why.

“Kids! Out of the car! It’s not safe!”

A half dozen bundles of spotted yellow fur tumbled out, making distressed noises that didn’t need translating. They had tiny little antler buds and very big eyes.

Captain Sunlight was busy talking to someone through her communicator, probably Mimi. I stood there uselessly by the packages. What did I know about fuel leaks? Nothing helpful. I knew the puddle was growing by the second, and was probably flammable, but that was about it. And this backwater spaceport barely had an information booth, much less a local response team.

The client ushered her cubs over to where we stood just as Mimi and Paint returned. Blip and Blop followed with a big toolbox carried between them. Mimi was already taking charge and waving tentacles about, talking to the captain about the lack of reliable repair shops this far in the boonies, telling Blip and Blop how best to use their muscles in opening up the engine, and reassuring the customer that this was fine, actually, that model hovercar had a known issue with the fuel lines.

When the client dithered over minding her cubs and being present for the repairs, Captain Sunlight pointed a scaly yellow hand at me. “Our human can keep your little ones entertained. Bring them over here.”

“Uh,” I said.

Captain Sunlight looked up at me, still talking to the client. “She has extensive experience in tending to small furry creatures.”

I wanted to say that veterinarian training and childcare were two very different things, but I wasn’t about to make the captain look bad. And knowing Mimi, this would be quick.

The client said, “Thank you. Kids, you need to stay over here, okay? Next to these boxes, but don’t touch. Listen to the tall one. I’ll be right there helping fix the car.”

The tiny-voiced replies were recognizable words in the most common trade language, though their pronunciation made me clock them at around three or four years old in human years. They were very cute.

And they were suddenly my responsibility, all looking up at me like spotted teddy bears while the rest of the adults fretted about the car.

The questions were immediate.

“What are you?”

“Where’s your fur?”

“Did you lose it because you ate the wrong thing? Mommy says we have to eat our vi’mins so our fur doesn’t fall out.”

“Is this instead of fur?”

I freed the tiny paws tugging at my pants. “I’m not supposed to have fur. I’m a human. And yes, I wear clothes to keep me warm instead.”

“It looks funny.”

“Do you have to brush it?”

“Do you know any games?”

I brightened at that. “Games! Sure, I know some games.” I wracked my brain for something that would keep them entertained without causing new problems. “What kind of games do you like to play?”

They all answered at once in an avalanche of words, bouncing around in excitement, with a couple grabbing each other’s fur to keep from falling over. I couldn’t make out a thing they were saying. But I had the beginning of an idea.

“Do you like dancing in a circle?” I asked.

They had no idea what I was talking about, and possibly no understanding of basic shapes yet. Three of them spun in place while the others waved their arms.

“First you stand in a circle, like this,” I said, sketching out the shape in midair. “Here. You stand here, then you there…” With some gentle nudging — they were so soft — I soon had them arranged in something like a circle. “Now hold hands with the person next to you.”

I was a little concerned that their paws weren’t suited to this, since they had long blunt claws already and didn’t look very dexterous, but they managed. With lots of giggling and hopping in place.

“Now everybody step to the side, in this direction.” I ushered them into a clockwise rotation, nice and slow (and giggling), with no risk of any little fluffy heads bonking onto the spaceship landing pad. It took them a second, then they got the rhythm without tripping over their own feet.

Then they unanimously spun faster, hopping and laughing with squeals and barks that were probably making more than one adult turn to stare. I don’t know; I kept my eyes on the littles. My arms were out and ready in case somebody stumbled and brought the whole circle crashing down.

But no one did. The half dozen youngsters wheeled and spun, bouncing with glee and showing no sign of stopping.

“That’s new,” rumbled a voice behind me. I tried not to flinch when I looked up at the mama bear. Beer. Whatever. She asked, “Is that an activity from your planet?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Pretty basic, and it seemed good for kids.”

The antlered head nodded. “Looks like valuable practice at coordination, as well as teamwork. There are a few adults I know who could benefit from that.”

Images flashed through my head of huge antlered bear aliens doing ring-around-the-rosie as a corporate teambuilding exercise. And professional athletes trying to improve their footwork. “Yeah, they probably could. And it’s a fun bit of community bonding time.”

Mama Bear nodded. “Okay children, the car is fixed,” she announced. “Time to go home.”

The cubs made the exact same disappointed noises as human kids. Even when their mother waded in and picked them up one by one to urge them towards the car, they didn’t want to stop playing. They grabbed hands in pairs and spun off that way, even faster than before. I did have to catch one fuzzy little teddy toddler, who just laughed about it and hopped around some more.

Peripheral vision told me the rest of the crew was helping move the packages into the hovercar’s storage space and mop up the last of the fuel. Overheard conversation told me that the good captain had tactfully gotten us a bonus payment for the mechanical assistance. I couldn’t tell if childcare was part of that, and I didn’t ask. I just focused on herding the excitable youngsters back to their car, where thankfully they all knew how to get into the safety harnesses without help.

Mama Bear closed the door. “Thank you for everything,” she said, directing that at me as well as Captain Sunlight. “I will recommend your services highly to anyone who asks. And we will probably need more deliveries soon, once we get the new house set up, so perhaps we will see you again!”

Captain Sunlight nodded. “Perhaps so. It was a pleasure doing business with you.”

I waved goodbye to the kids, who had found the button to open the window and were just as excitable as ever. “See you later! Maybe next time I can teach you the Hokey Pokey. That’s big on my planet.”

~~~

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.

Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.

The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).

[chronicowboy]

When Connor finally comes over to the loft, Buck can only think thank god.

Its not that he doesn't like Kameron, he actually really enjoys her company. She's funny and bubbly and enjoys learning whatever new facts he'd found on Wikipedia that day and she has killer commentary for shitty reality TV.

Its not even the whole pregnant thing. He laughs when she balances her plate on her belly and he always braves her adventures in craving combinations even if it ends with him gagging and swearing never to eat tuna or jelly ever again - sidenote: chips and whipped cream is a new go-to snack.

He's just fed up of feeling like a perpetual roommate in his own apartment yet again. And his couch fucking sucks.

Also, like, its great that Connor and Kameron are starting to talk things through.

But his couch sucks.

So, when Connor comes over looking sheepish and apologetic, Buck welcomes him in with a smile. Kameron... not so much.

"I'm... gonna head upstairs," Buck mumbles into the awkward silence of the kitchen, "and get into my running gear." He nods once before fleeing up to his bedroom.

Buck dives for his headphones when their hushed voices start hissing at each other, connecting them up to his phone with fast hands and blasting his workout playlist as loud as he can bear. He strips efficiently, pulling on a pair of shorts and a tank top in the bathroom when the voices get louder. Then he's rushing downstairs and grabbing his sneakers, wondering if it would be wise to run all the way to Eddie's house.

His hand is an inch away from the doorknob when Connor stops him. With a silent sigh, Buck pops a headphone out and turns to face the scene in front of him.

Kameron is leaning on the kitchen island, palms flat against the marble, fingers curled under her hands, head hung low. Connor is wide-eyed and pleading, his grip on Buck's wrist tight and unyielding as he keeps him fixed to his spot.

"Buck, tell me you could raise a kid that wasn't yours," he begs, something frantic to his voice. Buck thinks he recognises the fear in Connor's eyes, thinks it looks a lot like Chimney haunting the loft weeks after Hen and Eddie had returned home. Not a fear of covid or DNA, but a fear of fatherhood cloaked in a thousand defences. "Tell me that it wouldn't bug you every single day."

Buck blinks. He opens his mouth, but something thick and cloying crawls up his throat and stops the words from coming out.

He sees flashes. Too-long curls and crutches and glasses. Nights spent huddled on a couch in front of the same shitty kid's film that Buck would happily watch a hundred times over, days spent hunched over worksheets at the dining table, mornings heavy with sleep but light with joy. Trips to the zoo, visits to the aquarium, tours of the observatory. Nightmares and tears and a run away on his doorstep. Sodden clothes and clasped hands and such visceral fear that Buck had thought he was dying. Saying no to one last game, mixing veggies into the sauce, putting his foot down on screen time. A bag full of pharmacy supplies and the tiles of the bathroom floor cold under him and growing pains Buck feels in his old bones.

"It wouldn't," Buck croaks, it feels a lot like a confession. "My captain has been more of a dad to me than my father ever was." Buck shakes his head, shrugs. "Its not about DNA, Connor, its about love."

"But." Connor's chest heaves with panicked breaths. "So, you'd do it? You'd raise another man's kid?"

Buck recognises the fear again, but this time its his own. Connor is feeling the same fear that had Buck staggering through the ravaged streets of Los Angeles. The same fear that had Buck withdrawing, trying to chase Eddie and Christopher out of the door with a list of all his sins. The same fear that had Buck reminding Eddie of Christopher's biological family. The fear Buck feels every time he has to say goodbye to Chris.

Its then that Buck's phone buzzes. He glances down at the new notification. A picture of Eddie scowling down at a cookbook captioned uh oh - backup needed ASAP.

"Oh," Buck breathes down at the screen.

All the flashes suddenly comes together, one beautiful mosaic of parental devotion.

Buck remembers the way Chimney's dad's words had lodged something sharp and painful into his chest, remembers wondering why. He remembers a quiet conversation on opposite sides of a hospital bed, remembers wondering why me. He remembers scribbling hearts together for an assignment, remembers its his turn to save you. He remembers wondering if he could be a donor not dad and Eddie asking if he knew any of Christopher's secrets.

"Buck?" Connor prompts.

"I'd do it," Buck says, only looking up from his phone when it fades to black. When he says it, it sounds a lot like you know I wouldn't. "Because... even though that kid might not be my blood, he'd still be mine," here, his voice cracks right down the middle. "I'm sorry, I have to go."

"What? Buck!"

"Sorry." Buck yanks the door open and looks over his shoulder with an apologetic shrug. "My kid needs me."

[shycloudkitty]

You're too sweet for a monster like me (part 2)

Pairing: Vendetta Leon × Fem reader

Tags: Mentions of depression, overall fluff maybe a bit angsty, Ice skating, Leon being agile af to do that in his first try, a bit inaccurate related to ice skating but spare me🙏 (If you find some mistakes please spare me😭 english is not my native language)

Part 1 of YTS

A/N: The first part did better than I expected, so here's the second part. I have to stop going on hiatus lol. Also, I have never ice skated, though I know rollerblading ☝🤓

Also there are some words in pink and blue, pink are the reader's thoughts, while blue are Leon's thoughts.

Edit: Christmas themed dividers from @/anitalenia

WC: 2.6K

You quietly sigh, rubbing his back while hugging him, trying to make him feel better about himself. In all seriousness you can’t bear to see him like this–Wasting away and giving up.

He can't give up on himself. You can't let that happen.

You turn his face so you can look at him properly and give a soft smile. “Why don't we go out somewhere? It's been a long time since we had a date and Christmas is around the corner. Plus…I think we need a change of scenery. Let's go to a park.”

Leon looked at you a bit surprised and then down at the half empty glass of whiskey, debating with himself if he wanted to go outside.

But you are having none of it. You weren't going to let him stay here and get more depressed than ever. A change of scenery is what you both need.

You give him your best sweet puppy, mustering up in the moment. You add a small pout and make your eyes look sad and say softly. “Please.”

Leon groans immediately, pinching the bridge of his nose when he sees that look—the famous puppy eyes you always use to get your work done every time. “That's cheating.” he says

He never understood why it works. Like he's a grown ass man who has killed dozens of zombies and what not. He should be immune. But, apparently, military life didn't build him for these kinds of attacks.

You innocently smile and say. “What? I'm just politely asking.”

Leon snorts. “Uh huh…right. Your ‘polite asking’ uses emotional blackmail.”

You gasped dramatically, bringing a hand on your chest. “Little ol’ me? Blackmail? Heavy accusations, Mr. Kennedy.”

Leon rolled his eyes, a small smirk tugging at his lips and pulled you in his lap. “Right. You're so innocent.”

You grin and playfully roll your eyes at him. “Of course I'm innocent.”

Leon snorts but doesn't say anything.

You grip his shoulders and shake him lightly. “Oh come on… let's go outside. Look, it's almost Christmas, so there will be pretty decorations. Don't they have that ice rink too? Come on…it’ll be funny kids and their parents falling flat on their faces. ”

You hear him chuckling a bit at your words, his lips curling into a smile and…finally it feels like that the man you knew is in front of you again. Life slowly returning to him…

Leon smirks and says. “Sounds kinda harsh, you know. What did the kids do?”

You roll your eyes. “That's not the point. Can we pleasssseee go?”

Leon sighs and says. “Fine. Fine. But we're just gonna walk around the park…and no ice skating.”

Like hell you guys won't go ice skating.

Leon sees the immediate change in your expression, going from pleading like a puppy to almost elated and he couldn't help but chuckle.

Somehow you were the only one who could bring this side of him no matter how far he was gone. He had always wondered ‘why?’ part of it. But it's probably useless to ask that question by now.

You immediately get up from his lap and take his hand and start tugging him towards the bedroom. “Good, let's get dressed then.”

You both are bundled in warm clothes, walking towards the park hand in hand.

Leon looked down at you, taking in your eager expression to get to the park. You looked adorable–like a kitten. No, literally, you were wearing that cute little pink beanie with kitten ears. That beanie always made him smile no matter what, it looked so childish but suits you perfectly.

He gently flicks at one of the ears and smiles to himself. Doing it again and again till you look up at him with a narrowed-eyed expression and say. “Do it again and I will make you wear this.”

Leon grins to himself, feeling satisfied. He looks ahead, holding your hand tighter and walking towards the park. “Nope, I'm good.”

Soon, you both find yourselves walking in the park, taking in the lively scenery with each other.

People of all ages walking around, kids laughing and playing with their parents or grandparents. It was a bit crowded but it's manageable.

You look up at him with a smile. “This is nice right.”

He nods but doesn't say anything, looking around the snow and decorations, the hustle bustle of people distracts his mind a bit. Maybe this was a good idea. He admits he wouldn't have thought of going to a damn park in the middle of a depressive episode.

You notice his shoulders relaxing, and his facial expressions easing up a bit. Mentally, you pat yourself on the back for the first step to make him feel like his old self again.

You squeezed his hand to get his attention. “Do you like snow?”

Leon blinks then looks down at you. “Oh..uhh… I don't know.” He never really thought about mundane things like this, never had time to do that. Maybe when he was a kid? Probably.

He shrugs. “Eh, never gave it much thought, but if snow gets in between my missions and delays it then maybe? But I'm also a bit frustrated then. So, mixed feelings.”

There were times when his missions got delayed because snow had blocked some crucial areas. He used to be a bit relieved when that used to happen, as it was rare for him to catch a breath but also a bit frustrated that he probably won't be able put an end to the mission on time.

You snort and say. “Do you always think like that? Comparing everything to how it would help in a mission? Doesn't it get exhausting?”

He looks at you with a small frown, a small huff leaving his lips. Well it was exhausting but he's not gonna tell her that. He doesn’t like being called out like this and definitely not by his own damn girlfriend. “Try having a world saving job, then we'll talk, sweetheart.”

You chuckle, knowing he was a bit pissed. “What do you mean? Are you implying that I don't have one?”

Leon raises an eyebrow and scoffs. “Do you?”

You smirk and nudge him. “Going on dates, being with you is a pretty important world saving job, my darlingggg.” sweetening up your voice some more in the end and batting your eyelashes at him.

He rolls his eyes and laughs. God you were so cheesy. He looked down at you with a smile and says. “Yeah, you right. Pretty important job. But I pay you enough cuddles and kisses for it.”

You smile, leaning close and kiss his cheek. “That you do. Here's your payback too.” You definitely see him blushing after that. No matter how much he denies it, it never gets old to see him look away, trying to stifle the wide grin threatening to take over his face. It was cute.

You both reach the makeshift ice rink, Looking around seeing little kids trying to skate with the help of their parents. Falling on their faces but getting up with a big smile on their face and some cried, but most of them were enjoying themselves.

“Jeez, I thought you knew how to stand straight.” he grumbles a bit before holding your waist with both hands to help you balance.

You were clutching his shoulders, desperately trying not to fall. “I'm trying my best okay?! I didn't know ice was this slippery, it's my first ti- Ah!” You slip again, nearly pulling him down with you, but his grip on you was strong enough for you to not fall on your butt.

He grunts, before wrapping his arm around your waist pulling you against his body. “Don't worry, darling, I got you.”

You cling to him like a baby who doesn't know how to walk, falling again and again before you could even take one step. “Don't let me fall, okay?”

He rubs your back, keeping your face buried in his chest. “I have your back, sweetheart.”

Your heartbeat slowly returned to normal, closing your eyes for a moment. “I don't think I can do it, this was a bad idea.”

Leon looks at you, seeing you grumbling & pouting from disappointment. His heart melts from seeing his sunshine upset. He kisses your forehead and smiles. “No, no, no this was a wonderful idea, okay? It's fine you can do it, I'm right here I won't let you fall. Look, see it's my first time too alright. If I can do it then you can too.”

Oh yeah, it was his first time ice skating too and he's doing ten times better than you.

You look up at him from his chest and narrow your eyes. “How are you not falling on your ass like me?”

He chuckled. “What? You want both of us to land in a hospital?”

You rolled your eyes and glared at him light-heartedly. “Nooo but it makes me suspicious. Did you used to do this with your exes?”

Leon burst into a laugh. “Sweetheart, you're like the only stable relationship I ever had. Plus, this is improvising.” He kisses your cheek. “Now come on, I know you can do it.” Giving you a final pat on the back before pulling back.

He had a tight grip as you slowly stood up straight, balancing yourself with his help. You breathe a sigh of relief. “Okay… What do I do now?”

He tilts your chin with his finger, making you look in his blue eyes. “Breathe, you can do it. Your legs are strong enough to skate, don't stand too rigid or you'll fall.”

Slowly, you feel his words empowering you, helping you be more sure of yourself. You feel more confident now, your legs gaining the strength and flexibility needed for ice skating.

Leon smiles seeing you grow more comfortable, his grip then shifts from your waist to both of your hands. “See you're doing it…Good job.”

You look up at him and say. “Yeah but I doubt I will be able to do more than this.”

He chuckles. “Don't worry, you have me…Now just believe in yourself and in me, when I said I won't let you fall I won't. Now, slowly take the first step.” He slowly starts to skate with your hands in his.

Your legs are a bit wobbly at first but you do it, looking in his eyes for reassurance and finding nothing but pure love and encouragement in his eyes.

He slowly nods and smiles at you. “Good… just keep it going.”

Slowly, you start to grow more confident in your footing and follow his steps efficiently. You were still a bit nervous and there were small bumps here and there but you had gotten the hang of it by now.

Leon slowly starts to skate a bit faster, feeling your hand gripping his tightly whenever he does. But he simply squeezes your hand & passes a smile.

Slowly, you both fall into a comfortable pace as you skate together. You grew more confident and laugh softly. “This is great!”

Leon just had a smile of his own watching you laugh and skate with him. It was as if nothing else mattered in this moment, except the two of you. He quietly savored this rare moment of tranquility and peace.

You were sitting on the bench, watching the decorated Christmas tree with lights and ornaments in front of you. Leon said he had something to take care of, so you were waiting for him to come back.

After a few moments, he came back and sat down next to you quietly, watching the tree lights twinkle in front of him with you. He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close to him.

You shift closer to him and rest your head on shoulder. “Everything alright?”

He slowly nods, kissing your forehead. “Never been more alright than this.” He rubs your sides and continues. “Thank you for today. I really needed this date.”

You smiled up at him. “You're welcome. Although, a part of me did think you were starting to regret it considering how much of a wreck I was at Ice skating.”

You feel his chest rumble as he laughs. “You kidding me? That was the best part!”

You raise an eyebrow and huff, pretending to be mad. “Are you saying, me making a fool out of myself was the best part?”

He was still shamelessly smiling, not regretting anything he said. “Yes, but I also liked the part when I helped you skate.”

You roll your eyes and shake your head. “Fair enough.”

He softly sighed, resting his chin on top of your head. These were the moments that reminds him what he was truly fighting for. He was fighting for moments when you both hugged, kissed, cuddled, roasting each other for fun or when you both were simply together and talked just about anything.

He was fighting for you.

He was fighting to protect that precious smile of yours, to keep that sweet innocence of yours safe from the ugly horrors of the world. And if protecting it meant that he had to be a pawn in bigger scheme of things or that he had to be a monster to fight those who created monstrosity to wreck havoc. He was okay with fighting all of it.

As long as you were safe and sound, he was ready to fight anything that threatened your peace. And he wasn't someone who would go down easily without a fight. Your love made him the bravest soldier.

He blinks, as his train of thoughts stopped when he felt you nudging him. He looked down at you. “Hmm?”

You shrugged. “You want to go home now? It's getting a bit late.”

He paused then smiles. “Actually, there was something.”

You looked at him puzzled. “What is it?”

He smirks, then takes out the small mistletoe from his coat pocket he brought earlier and raised it above their heads and playfully said. “Oh my my, who could have hanged this mistletoe here of all places?”

You could barely contain your grin and continue the ruse. “Hmm…Who could it truly be, Do you know?”

Leon shakes his head, smirking at you while still holding the mistletoe above their heads. “No, but it seems like fate, no? It appeared all of a sudden and that too just for us. How strange…Well anyways it seems like we have to do the tradition now.”

You roll your eyes at him your smile barely contained. “Uh huh. Right. The tradition.” He was so smug, it was taking everything not to laugh in his face.

He grins, seeing you try to control yourself and pulls you closer to his body. “Mmm, that's what the traditions are about after all.” His voice lowering and getting sultry.

Your breathing quickened as his other hand brushes some hair out of your face, his thumb gently caressing your bottom lip. Tilting your face towards him. You give him a smile and softly whisper. “Well then, we have to do it. What are you waiting for?”

He smiled and leaned closer. “To hear that.” And gently presses his lips close to yours, kissing you softly. And it's like the world around you both fades once again. You cup his face and kiss him back, slowly deepening the kiss. He wrapped his arms around you holding you gently in his embrace as he pours all the love he has to give you.

Everything that led upto this moment was all worth it to him.

OMGG Hi everyone!!! Things are a bit hectic but all good. Hope you all enjoy this day. Merry Christmas to anyone who celebrates!!!🎉🎊🎊

-Bella😊