#i made him over as a young adult but that doesn't mean he's one right now so he can be anybody's friend/bf/whatever

[agena87]

You should all follow the advice @adelarsims gave me: snatch Liam Beckett from the Gallery (on Maxis profile) and add him to your game!

[levil0vesyou]

Having a post get popular enough to be independently reblogged by someone you follow but aren't mutuals with is. Wild

[haztory]

['sex' by the 1975]

⤷ atsumu miya x f!reader; best friends, references to infidelity, pining, sexual content (w.c 3.1k)

“it’s not sex.” he insists between mouthfuls. a drop of mustard dots the corner of his mouth. you stare incredulously.

“are you joking?” you ask. atsumu just shrugs his shoulder, intense focus saved for the burger held in his hands. practically inhaling a third of it in one bite as he brings it up to his mouth.

“‘s not like it’s the real thing.” he bobs his head side to side in consideration of the sandwich before he’s grabbing at the fries in your lap, “can i haf some.”

the carton lays practically emptied from his pilfering next to your abandoned chicken nuggets. three remaining, absent of consumption in favor of a bewildered stare at the man seated beside you on his bed. 

“fingering is penetration, that’s sex.” you say simply.

atsumu raises a brow, “yer gyno having sex with ya?”

“that’s different.” you level a stare at him, one that’s serious and fierce and that communicates everything you mean in the single look alone. he meets it with one of his own, familiarity and uncommunicated languages all the rage between the two of you. “she doesn't make me cum.”

“neither does yer boyfriend.” he shrugs, taking another large bite of his burger as you screech in offense. your hand meets his bicep with a sharp slap and he grabs at it in pain. “ow! ya were the one that told me that!”

”some people take a minute to figure it out.”

”sounds like its taking a lot longer than a minute.” he mutters to himself. “look, its a lost cause. just dump the guy before it gets anywhere. ya haven’t had sex yet, he’s got a weird face, dude cant tell a fake orgasm from a real one. why are ya fighting me on this?”

“fingering is sex! your body count would be zero if fingering didnt count.” you insist loudly and atsumu rolls his eyes. he crumples the foil his burger came in and throws it across the room, cheering loudly when it makes it into the bin in the corner of his room. 

his room is much the same since the last time you visited. photos of passing years sit framed on the desk— an image of he and osamu with their arms wrapped around each other, taken right before atsumu left for the olympics. another of you and atsumu placed right next to it, you leaning over his shoulder and him laughing loudly, beer bottles held deftly in hands and drunken flushes decorating your faces. momentos of faded high school memories, interspersed with flashes of young adult realities. 

its more sophisticated than it once was. minimal in furniture, and of the items that decorate the room they’re the perfect reflection of a twenty-four year old athlete. his closet is lined with designer gifted clothes, but his desk chair remains stacked with undone laundry, the basics of his everyday life found in the plush cushion more than on the hangers. the jacket you’re currently wearing was stolen from the top of that pile just after delivering a pointed comment at how cold he keeps his apartment. 

its a far cry from the bedroom he used to share with his brother, the one you remember at the dusk of previous memories. it was cramped and contained, lines between the two boys constantly blurred and you having to learn rather quickly where to step and when. but even now, as he lives on his own in a city a bit further from you than you’re comfortable with, not much has changed. you still sit on the left side of the bed and he takes the right; you still eat burgers on his bed and steal his jackets, and he throws papers into trash bins and insists he could’ve made it professional were he not already in volleyball; you still moan and complain about the woes of daily life and he still listens to them endlessly, interjecting the same amount of dumb enthusiasm as you know him to have. 

there is still much in common that remains between he and you. trusted familiarity, endless comfort; a bubble that remains whole and precious, unaltered despite life dealing its hand to you. you’re convinced there’s no one else in the world that gets you quite like atsumu does. 

there’s also no one in the world that works you up, quite like atsumu does.

atsumu stands from the bed, retrieving your own trash from your lap and chucking the rest of it in the bin. lithe and lean, he moves with a body that is sculpted to perfection as he turns off the overhead light and instead turns on the desk lamp, submerging the room in the lowly warmth of its glow. days are shorter now and the sun has just made it return home, leaving you to the dim luster of a pleasant comfort. 

its quiet, intimate. words entirely inappropriate to describe the weekly hangout with your best friend of seven years. 

pushing thoughts aside, you fight to remember what the whole point of the conversation was about. a boyfriend, right. your boyfriend.

right. 

“and he does not have a weird face, he’s just… interesting. it’s what i liked about him.” 

“revolting. i’m this close to spiking a ball in his face. it would be plastic surgery for the dud.”

“you’re being mean.” you tell him. 

atsumu scoffs loudly, “and yer being stupid! yer the one that’s complaining to me about it. yer really gonna date a guy who can’t figure it out when he fingers ya? what happens when ya actually have sex with the bozo?”

“it takes practice. i don’t blame him for not being able to get me there on the first try. i see him later tonight so i’ll talk to him about it. it’s hard to figure out how to turn someone on and then try to, you know, get me there—“

“woahwoahwoah—timeout.” atsumu hold his hands perpendicular to one another, forming a ‘t’. his eyebrows practically touch the hairline of his bleached hair. “he doesn't even turn you on?”

“not everyone is good at everything, like you.” you mean it sarcastically, but it comes out short and meek. it’s embarrassing to have to cover for the misgivings of your current beau, but there’s an obligation to. a point to make, especially to the man in front of you. 

you’ve met the ex-girlfriends, heard their feedback for the man before you. an average of six out of ten in boyfriend material, but he knocks the ball out of the park when it comes to the bed—or so you’ve heard. 

(aya, the most recent girl to have made her grand exit, followed you on instagram and asked you to not be a stranger. whether that was so she could have her in for atsumu or because she really wanted to be friends is still up for debate, but the gesture ended with a message in your directs.

[9:17] it sucks, he’ll always be more in love with volleyball than any girl he could ever date. and even if he didn’t, you’re his number two anyway, so there’s really no way i can win.

[9:20] i’m super sorry, aya. if it’s any consolation, i really liked you two together. he’s just slow, i’m sure you guys will figure it out.

[9:20] you were our biggest argument. 

[9:20] so no, i don’t think we will.

[9:21] i’ll miss that dick tho, best orgasm of my life. rip

there’s not much you can say to a message like that. there’s not much you can say to the surge of smugness that courses through you either, so you don’t.

you don’t tell atsumu about it.)

“alright. sit up then.”

his voice startles you. “what?” 

suddenly, he stands before the side of the bed, looming horribly tall over you as he peers down at you. he shoves his hands in the pockets of his gray sweatpants, the fabric unintentionally pulling down ever so slightly and the waistband of his black boxers peeking out in greeting. the light of the desklamp casts a halo over his silhouette.

your attention is drawn upward and it’s hard to deny the familiar pang that tends to strike through you every so often in times like this. the simple effect of being near him. atsumu is unfairly handsome, and while it’s hard to put a name to the feeling that pulses inside of you when the light catches him just right or when a smile is even more charming than usual, the ache is always the same.

it’s fleeting, you convince yourself. something you refuse to settle on for too long. contexts and suppressed hopes pushed to the back of your mind along with the other unspoken things.

“come on.” he gestures two fingers upward. “i’ll show ya how easy it is to turn a girl on.”

its curiosity that has you standing up on your knees on the comforter, nothing more. its the wonder of how exactly your best friend makes his move on women that leads you to be so close to him, chests practically touching. breaths intertwining as atsumu stares a kind of serious into you that you’ve never been in the receiving end of before.

“im gonna touch ya.” his voice is low and your heart beats erratically in your chest. you nod. 

lifting his right hand, cold fingertips run across the heated skin on the back of your arm. digits trailing upward as he paints a pathway up. and it’s nothing—just his hand on your arm, nothing new or different, and yet your breath hitches. innocent in theory, but something solidifies on atsumu’s face, the familiar signs of determination playing out on his face. it’s less babied now, more formed and angular with the growings of an adult man, but it’s the same focus in his eye, the same clench in his jaw. 

his fingers trail up then down, repeating a circular figure on your skin. the sounds of your mingling breaths the only whispers between you two. your eyes dart down to his lips, but his stay fixed on you. studying every flicker of your eye, every inhale. 

his fingers break from their pattern and trails down to your wrist, then your palm, then your own fingers. tracing them, dancing with them, intertwining them slightly only to pull them away. 

“we should stop.” you whisper after a moment of his caress.

“why?” he asks and a quick glance to his gaze reveals that he knows why. he’s just making you spell it out.

it’s unfortunate that the only reason you want to stop is out of principle, and not because you truly have any reservations about any of this. your boyfriend of three months all but an annoying buzz in your ear.

“this feels like cheating.” you tell him simply. atsumu cocks his head to the side, charming smirk pulling across his lips. 

“i’m touching yer arm. this isn’t anything, yet.”

“you shouldn’t be touching my arm like this.”

“why? cause it’s working, right?” his voice drops to a low rumble, words vibrating through you and shooting straight to your core. “see how easy it is?”

“that means this is cheating then, right?” the question is posed, but it’s obvious it’s more to convince yourself than him. because all that he’s done is touch your arm and you’ve felt the bubbling of that unnamed something heat within you. it feels the exact same as it did seven years ago when you met him; feels identical to the moment four years ago when a drunken night led to a drunken kiss that was forgotten about the next day; feels the exact same whenever he looks at you like he does now, like you're open for the taking. a pointedly very different response to the dread that comes when getting intimate with your actual boyfriend. 

and while atsumu may be doing this to prove a point, to rub it in your face that he was right and you were wrong, you don’t trust that you’ll be able to not carry this with you. to not want more than you should. 

“nah.” he says simply, knowingly. “if i kiss you then it’s a problem.”

“oh, so kissing is cheating, but fingering isn’t?”

“can you shuddup? always runnin’ that damn mouth.” he renders you quiet. 

satisfied with your silence, he brings his left hand to cup your jaw, thumb and index finger grasping your chin and tilting your head to the left, leaving your neck exposed. he leans in, nose tracing a line up the column of your neck until he meets the juncture between that and your jaw. it’s a simple movement, and yet it feels like eternity in his hands. his breath hits steadily against the expanse of your cheek as he whispers into your ear.  “does he touch ya like this?” 

the gasp you release is guttural.

the arm previously fiddling with your fingers quickly wraps around your waist, pulling you flush to him. you have no choice but to embrace him with your own arms, hands cupping the back of his neck to steady yourself. it’s impulse to run them down the expanse of his back, to feel the muscles that he’s worked so hard for, but you resist. keeping yourself locked on his neck and nothing more, as though you being pliant to his ministrations wasn’t jeopardizing enough.  

his thumb inches upward, stroking the corner of your lips sweetly. “does he take his time with ya? cause i would.” 

its then that his lips meet the skin of your neck, tingles erupting from the connection. all of its effects causing an inadvertent clench within you. “it’s not about shoving fingers inside and just doing it. its about doing it the way you like it. and i’d make ya tell me how ya like it. since yer always runnin’ that damn mouth, might as well put it to good use.”

its all-encompassing, the traitorous burn between your thighs. and yet, this is the unnamed something, all that you’ve pushed away.

“astumu—” you whine and its in that exhale of yours that he releases a sigh of his own. one that almost sounds restrained.

“tell me to stop.” he says quickly, lips mouthing against your neck as he utters the words. 

and you don’t want him to. not really. the desire is feverish, unlike anything you’ve felt before and to end this is to end the sweetness of something you’ve yet to taste. if it were to be with anyone you would want it to be with him.

you could take the teasing, the “i-told-you-so” from osamu, the obliteration of a friendship for the uncertain promise of something more. but it isn’t right. not like this. if mountains were to come to a head, you want it to happen because they were gravitated to each other, not because the earth told them to do so.

“stop.” you tell him, and it’s like a hot brand that strikes him. he’s immediately pushing away from, untangling his limbs from you and stepping back into the swath of darkness in the room. 

his breaths are deep and heavy, that much you can tell from the distance. shuttering exhales that wrack his chest. you can hardly make out his irises, only see the intensity of dark pupils. it’s hard to believe that he could be feeling the way you do, just from the simple touch alone. a quick glance down to his grey sweatpants proves otherwise. 

a moment, then two, pass by. ragged breaths filling the distance, words spoken in the silent language you’re both fluent in. 

“does this mean i’m easy then?” you ask quietly, an effort to ease the wall of tension. 

“no.” he shakes his head gently, “just means i know ya.”

he knows what he means to say, the words and all of their yearning practically knocking against his teeth to escape. it’s the long haul, almost a decade long game of carefully advanced chess pieces to get to this point. blocked, temporarily, by the appearance of the new guy. a boyfriend of yours that atsumu met once, a guy he barely attempted to learn the name of. for reasons of his own, their knowing pertinent only to him. held deeply within the urges of being seen, the desires of having you wholly, completely.

there are plenty of other ways that he could do this—probably be more eloquent about it. admit pushed away feelings when you’re not in the midst of ranting about how your boyfriend just can’t get you off. 

but the tension irks him. thick enough to cut a knife, always following the two of you in the long held stares and closeness in which you two gravitate towards each other. the answer to your boyfriend problem is standing right in front of you. he knows what he wants you to do when you see your boyfriend later tonight. 

there are certain shoes that atsumu is convinced he could fill better than your boyfriend.

your face is flushed, and the desk lamp makes you look angelic under the lowlights, and you're wearing his jacket like you always do in a way that makes him believe it was always meant for you. and he’s not entirely convinced, even without the cloud of lust that hangs over him, that you don’t want this just as bad as he does.

osamu once said that atsumu wouldn’t admit his feelings to you even if they hit him over the head. they’re here, now. settling in the distance between you two, bobbing in the capsizing waves of want. they ache to be spoken, knock repeatedly against his gritted teeth. 

but a choice is made in that moment, with you looking at him as wild as you are. atsumu will admit to the selfish and prideful part of himself, but this—you— aren’t something to just take. the taste of your neck, the feel of your body against him, it must be given to him, earned. not because he needs to make a petty point, but because you want him to. 

he cares for you too much to be reckless in how he plays his cards. even if osamu will bust his balls for it later.

you have a boyfriend. and he can’t force you to change that. it wouldn’t be right, he’s given you the taste, he hopes it will be enough.

“like that.” he says after a moment, pushing down his pride and long held desires for you. “tell him ya like it like that.”

a/n: why is it that whenever i stop writing for kuroo, the one i always want to write for is atsumu. also big ups for my beta who entertains me and proofreads me at all hours of the day. i love you sanju!!!!!!

[starry-bi-sky]

I saw a post a few months ago (and damn was it really months? In PLURAL?) that was a cracky dpxdc au where the LOS were making Damian clones but the clones kept getting snatched by ghost portals and dropped into Danny’s lap and Danny just goes “ok ig this is my life now” and takes care of each one until he has his own mini army of Damian Clones.

And I remembered it a few days ago, and now I've been thinking about it again. Because I love clone aus (see: clone danny au, the 'danny is thomas wayne' au) because it itches the part of my mind that loves exploring personhood and the exploration of identity and what it means to be clone.

(What do you do when nothing about you is unique? When your face, your eyes, your hands, your hair, your voice, all the way down to your heart, all belong to someone else?)

(When it comes to nature vs nurture what of you came from your environment and your experiences, and what of you was already programmed into you from the DNA that made you?)

(What do you do to make it unique? What do you do to make you unique?)

And if I could remember who made that post I'd @ them right now because it was their original post that inspired this, but I'm just thinking of if the au only had One Singular Damian clone that fell into Danny's life.

(a read more because im apparently incapable of making posts that are less than 1k words...)

One Damian who knew he was a clone and knew that he was to either bring the original back to base or kill him to take his place, who was being trained the same way but kept getting compared to his original over and over again. Like an older sibling who you can never match up to. Who is still a child who craves adult affection and validation and praise, and can't get it because nothing about him is original.

One Damian who, at six years old, in a twist of fate is sucked through a swirling portal and lands in Amity Park, directly on top of, in front of, or in line of sight of one Daniel Fenton, half-ghost extraordinaire and local hero.

What happens next?

Well, for one, Danny recognizes him immediately. He would recognize the face of Damian Wayne anywhere because his best friend was ranting about him all week about Damian Wayne's environmental stuff he does.

And for two, he would recognize that the Damian Wayne in front of him was not Damian Wayne. Because Damian Wayne was a teenager. And the Damian Wayne in front of him is a child. Six years old.

Getting this not-Damian but also-Damian to go along with Danny is not, not an easy task. The tiny Damian is aggressive, regal, and at this point in time, six years old, barely understanding english. He also has a sword.

It takes all day and a google translator to get this Tiny Damian to finally agree to go home with Danny. It's a miracle. Seriously. A tried and true miracle. And its also only when Danny has to fight a ghost does he finally agree, saying something in arabic that Danny doesn't understand.

Danny flies them both home, carrying Tiny Damian like a koala. The ensuing conversation in his room is not any better. It is tiring, long, and exhausting. Tiny Damian is six years old, and every single thing he says when Danny asks where he came from is met with a poorly translated "that's classified".

Danny keeps an eye on the news. There are no reports of Damian Wayne going missing, in fact he's been rather public. Bruce Wayne is not one to lie about his children going missing, and Damian's secretive behavior and young age draws Danny to one conclusion: Damian is a clone.

He doesn't know why Damian Wayne is being cloned. Frankly he doesn't really wanna know, because whatever organization that did it doesn't seem too pure-of-heart if tiny-Damian's immediate attempt of murder when they first met is of any indication. But he's too busy taking care of his city, that he doesn't have time to deal with whatever shady business Tiny-Damian was produced from.

In the end though, he decides that this Tiny-Damian is not going back to whatever place he came from. Tiny Damian disagrees. It is a long, nebulous problem of Damian trying to run away, Danny catching him, and Danny pulling him back home.

In that time, Danny downloads a language app and starts learning Arabic so that they can talk to each other properly. Damian slowly, slowly, starts picking up English.

In that time, Danny also has to inform his friends and his sister about Damian. Tiny Damian is not a fan of this. That is another argument they have. Tiny Damian does not like Sam or Tucker for a long, long while. He only really "listens" to Danny, citing something in arabic that Danny still cannot understand, but has a repeated use of the word "lieazir". It's the only word that Danny can catch in a sentence immediately, because its what little Damian calls Danny.

Tiny Damian, in that front, is very interested in Danny's powers and in his parents work. He finds tubberware of ectoplasm in the fridge once while they're down in the kitchen and calls it something with the word lieazir in it. The other word is something that Danny later learns means water in arabic.

It makes him feel even more uneasy of whatever place little Damian came from.

It takes weeks for little Damian to finally give up on escaping, and then a few weeks more for him to almost entirely lose his spunk. Danny isn't sure what started it. It was as if he'd been flipped with an off-switch.

(Damian had been so confident that the League would go looking for him after his disappearance. He was wrong, and he is crushed. He is still a child, alone, in a country very big and very busy, where nobody understands what he's saying. He feels powerless, helpless.)

(The lazarus boy who calls himself Danyal is nice to him in a way the league has never been, and he's making an effort to learn Damian's language. But he leaves for hours at a time and Damian doesn't have much else to do but wait in this house for him to come back.)

(He tried leaving, many many times, but he doesn't understand the street signs, the roads, the people. He doesn't know where he is, and he feels scared in a way that he's not felt in the League. Danny finds him every single time, hours later when Damian is lost somewhere in Amity Park)

(And he never yells at him. Never. The first time this happens, Damian puffs himself up and prepares himself for this strange lazarus boy to yell at him. Damian feels like he's tripped on the last step of the stairs when Danyal doesn't yell at him.)

(He can tell he's frustrated by the tone of his voice, but when Danyal lays eyes on him he just looks relieved. He gets scolded on the flight home, but Damian doesn't understand any of it other than Danyal just sounds worried. Not angry. He gets a proper scolding once they get back, with Danyal typing into the google translator and playing it for Damian to hear.)

(This happens every single time until Damian finally agrees to stop running away.)

It's with Jazz's help that Danny finally realizes that Damian was depressed. It's with her help again that Danny tries helping with it. It's like trying to get a stray cat to trust him. And with everything else they've done, it takes a long time.

And it is so, so worth it when it all works out.

Tiny Damian doesn't really like Sam, or Tucker, but he likes Danny. And he finally starts calling him his name. His full name, but his name nonetheless. Danny doesn't bother correcting him. He's not looking a gift horse in the mouth. And it's endearing hearing Damian call him Danyal.

Damian in this time, also begins to take more initiative into learning English. And they teach each other words they know. Danny buys flash cards and writes the english alphabet on them, and then finds a book on arabic to teach himself and Damian. Sam and Tucker and Jazz start learning as well.

And then when Danny knows enough arabic and Damian knows enough english, and Damian trusts Danny, Damian tells him he's a clone. It's a quiet moment, late at night when Danny takes Damian up to the ops center to look at what stars they could see through the light pollution.

It'd be very easy for Danny to tell him, "I know. I could tell from the start.". He doesn't, it's not the time nor the place, and Danny's matured enough to know when to open his mouth and when to keep it shut. He lets Damian, almost seven now, tell him that he's a clone of Damian Wayne. Lets him tell him why he was made, what his purpose was.

(Danny will need a minute later to process the fact that Damian Wayne originally came from some kind of... assassin league with an obsession with immortality. But he's focused on Damian.)

In the end, he puts an arm around Damian Wayne's clone and pulls him into his side. Thanks him for trusting him, it must've been hard to tell him, that he's brave for being able to. And if he wants to, they can find a way to get into contact with the Waynes and let Wayne know about him.

Damian hides his face in Danny's ribs and holds him tight, and tells him he doesn't want to. Danny leaves it at that.

Perhaps it would be more morally ethical to alert Damian Wayne that there was a clone of him running around, that his... uh, grandfather was making clones of him. Hell, Danny would have liked it. But little Damian has asked him not to say anything, and little Damian needs someone to rely on; someone he can trust.

And in the end, its not that hard of a decision to make. Danny knows little Damian more than he knows Damian Wayne, and while Danny likes to think he's a good person, he knows he's not a great one. Nor a perfect one. He cares more about someone he knows than someone he doesn't.

If Sam tries to argue with him about it, then Danny will just double down. If Damian doesn't want to tell Wayne about his existence, then it's not their place to say otherwise.

There's a lot more to talk about over Damian's cloning, like what he wants to do moving forward. But that's a long conversation not meant to be one taken late at night. Little Damian is falling asleep at his side, seemingly much more relaxed than he did before, and Danny wasn't gonna ruin that.

And later he's right, it is a long conversation, and a slow one. Talking with Jazz about it helps him figure out what to do moving forward, and their best bet is to let Damian figure out what he wants to do. So he sits Damian down at the dinner table the next morning and tells him before breakfast that he doesn't need to be Damian Wayne.

He doesn't need to learn all the same things Damian Wayne did. He doesn't need to do anything that Damian Wayne does. And little Damian is seven, and he's smart, but Danny still has to word it in a way that's not too complex for him to realize.

And in the end, what he says essentially boils down to "You are not Damian Wayne, you are just you. Don't be anyone else but you." and it'll take more time to drill that into his mind when all he's ever heard and learned from is that he was a copy of Damian Wayne, and he must act like Damian Wayne. But it'll happen.

It's a hard task when Danny's the only person Damian really trusts and he can't be by his side all the time, but he starts to warm up to the rest of Danny's family. The Fenton parents know of him, it's hard to keep a six year old child a secret for as long as Danny did without eventually having to come clean about it. His parents, much to Danny's relief, are very welcoming to Damian.

Damian figures out what he likes. Slowly. He's six years old, almost seven, and nobody expects of him to figure out who he is immediately. No child knows who they are right off the bat. So like any child he begins to explore. His english is better but still rough, and he struggles to read said language, but the Fenton family are happy to help even if Damian learns words that no normal seven year old does. (Many of them scientific.)

Damian realizes he likes stars, even if said interest is influenced by the association to Danny. Danny is all too delighted to tell him all about them, and in the process takes him flying out somewhere where the light pollution doesn't reach and showing him where constellations are.

Damian is six-almost-seven, so he doesn't find all of them, but Danny helps him figure out the easier ones. He tells him the scientific facts behind them, and then tells him about the mythos of the constellations. Later on they make their own constellations and make up stories about what they are.

(Damian adores Danny out of anyone else in the Fenton Family. The name Danyal turns to Dany. If anyone asks, Daniel Fenton is Damian's big brother.)

(He still refers to Jazz as Jazmine, and Danny's parents as Mrs. and Mr. Fenton.)

He realizes that, like his original, he loves animals, and he becomes vegetarian too. Sam is smug and Tucker is disappointed, but Damian doesn't super care about their opinions. ...he's getting better at liking them, even if he thinks Manson is a bit snobby and Foley is too much at times.

Its inevitable that the conversation of school comes into play. Damian can't stay home all day and he needs proper schooling. So after a long talk with Damian, they agree to send him to elementary school.

...And before they can do that the Fenton Family goes through with legally adopting Damian into the family as Damian Fenton. It takes convincing to get the administration to enroll him into the first grade without a proper schooling background.

(On his adoption form, Damian asks to change his birthday to the day he met Danny. Perhaps its not the most responsible thing to agree to, but Danny wants Damian to find himself. And its not like they know when his actual birthday was.)

And despite where he learned it from, Damian quite likes sparring. And he quite likes sparring with Danny in particular. Danny makes it fun, something that was foreign in his old league training, and Danny never hurts him. It's a lot like roughhousing.

Danny tells Damian how he got his powers, and how his parents don't know. Damian wakes up late at night to Danny sneaking out of the room (their house is not big enough to give Damian an individual room, and Danny agreed to share his) to go fight ghosts.

It's upsetting. Damian knows that Danny gets injured in those fights, even if Danny never comes home until after those injuries have been fixed up. He wants to help, and he voices it, and Danny shoots him down.

It becomes an argument, something that has happened less and less over the months.

Damian is experienced.

Damian is a child.

Damian knows how to fight.

Damian is mortal and fragile. He is a tiny, squishy human boy and the people Danny fights are ghosts who are near-indestructible. Who are intimately acquainted with death but also do not remember that humans are capable of it. Especially when they're fighting.

Damian says that Batman's rogues are capable of the same thing, that he lets his Robins help him fight.

And Danny says he is not Batman and he will not allow Damian to fight ghosts with him. Those ghosts will kill him and it will hurt. Dying hurts in a way that is terrifying and unimaginable and he will not risk Damian experiencing it. Not even Sam and Tucker help him in his fights most of the time, they are not able to. Not in the way Danny can.

Damian doesn't talk to him all day the following morning, but Danny does not budge on his decision. Damian tries to follow him out the next night, and Danny catches him and takes him back. Over, and over, and over again.

Until finally he gets intercepted by Skulker while taking Damian back home and is forced to fight him in front of Damian. (If it had been his choice, he would not have let Damian see it at all.)

It's not pretty. Skulker has new weapons, weapons that hurt, a lot. Danny is stuck between trying to take him down and trying to protect Damian from Skulker's attacks at him and from all the debris being created from the fight. It's with Damian's quick thinking and fast feet that finally helps Danny take Skulker out. But Danny is badly injured in the aftermath.

He doesn't have time to take Damian home and get medical attention. So he takes Damian with him to wherever he has his supplies stashed. He doesn't call Sam or Tucker or Jazz, and has to stitch himself up alone, with Damian watching.

Damian is quiet the entire time, he feels awful. Danny's not mad at him -- well, he is. But not because he had to protect him. He's just tired, and a little disappointed in him. Damian doesn't sneak out again. But he still feels helpless.

Danny tells him that that is why he doesn't want Damian to help him. Ghosts, his ghosts, are hard to fight. They are powerful, and his 'rogues' are mean. They will not care that Damian is a mortal child, if he picks a fight with them, they will fight back. And Damian is not immune to certain ghost powers like Danny is.

Damian is silent. He wants to help. But Danny is right: he is a squishy, mortal, living child. There is not much he can do to help Danny. Not without any gear to do it. Not without any powers to do it. He wants to help. He cannot.

Damian, almost-seven-years old, begins to cry. It is the last thing Danny was expecting, and for a moment he is at a loss of what to do.

Damian reaches for him -- in the Fenton family, physical affection is expected. Damian is getting used to it, but Danny is the only one he likes touching him -- and then stops, cringing away like he only just remembered that Danny was hurt.

He only cries harder.

Danny meets him halfway and pulls him into his arms, situating Damian between his knees from where he's sitting. Through his tears, Damian says he wants to help. He wants to help. He doesn't want Danny to get hurt anymore. He doesn't want Danny to fight ghosts alone anymore. He's scared that Danny will stop coming back.

Danny doesn't have anything to say to reassure him. Can't say anything to reassure him. It'll all just be lies. He's not going to stop fighting ghosts, he can't. He's not going to stop getting hurt, he can't. He's not going to bring Damian with him, he can't. He'd never be able to live with himself.

"I'll always come back." He says though, because that is something he can promise. Whether dead or alive, he'll come back.

When the tears finally stop, Damian doesn't say anything again. He sniffles, and presses his ear to Danny's chest, listening to the steady, slow heartbeat. If he puts his ear to his sternum and strains his ear, Damian would almost hear the low hum of Danny's ghost core, like a small dwarf sun.

"If you die, I'll drag you to the Lazarus pools myself." Damian mumbles eventually, his voice sleep-full. It's spoken in arabic, and Danny only understands half of it.

He laughs quietly, and smoothes his hand over Damian's hair. He hasn't had a haircut since he arrived, it's gotten long and there are curls beginning to form. "Okay."

Damian falls asleep shortly after, and with much consideration to his own injuries and Damian's sleeping form, Danny flies them back home.

It's hard to say, but not much changes in routine afterwards. Damian hovers close to Danny, more than usual. Danny still goes out at night, he still stitches himself up before going back, he still goes back home where Damian is waiting worriedly for him. Damian doesn't like falling asleep without knowing Danny is there.

Now the hard question is: when does little Damian finally meet the Waynes for the first time? There's plenty of ways to go about it, both easy and hard. Perhaps we go this way:

The Fenton family are visiting Maddie's sister in Arkansas. And Damian is dragging Danny around through the surrounding forest. It's his first time being in a forest this large since he moved in with the Fentons. Safe to say he is delighted by all of the nature, and he's dragging Danny along with him.

Danny likes the peace and quiet it gives him, he's found that he enjoys the rural area more than he likes the city. He's happy to let Damian point out every plant he recognizes, even if some of it is in arabic.

They walk around all day until Damian gets tired, and then at night when the sky is clear Danny and him go look at the stars. It's peaceful at first.

On the third day of their visit, Damian drags Danny out far from the house. It's slightly worrying, but Danny can always fly them back if it gets too late.

It's in the woods that Danny and Damian stray much too far from Alicia's house, and from there in the early evening that they run into Batman and Red Robin, both of them in rough 'just got out of a fight' shape.

Safe to say, it was the last thing any of them expected to run into. Damian and Danny had stopped at a small crik to rest, and the two vigilantes came through the tree line on the other side.

It was... quite the staring contest.

Damian, now seven years old at this point, forgot to mention that the Waynes were vigilantes when he told Danny he was a clone. But he was told that Batman was his original's father.

Before anyone can say anything, little Damian wraps his arms tight around Danny's middle and stares Batman and Red Robin down. His sharp edges have softened around the Fentons. But he makes no exceptions to anyone else outside of Danny's immediate social circle.

Danny's arm automatically goes around Damian's shoulders, and he looks between both Red and Batman uneasily. If they were here then it meant that there was something unsafe nearby. Danny did not fight the living, and he wasn't going to put Damian in the crosshairs of anything that does.

"Should... should we leave?" He asks, brows knotted together with a frown. He stands. "Is there something going on nearby?"

Batman suddenly grunts, and looks at him. "It's been handled." He says, and his voice is gruffer than Danny imagined it. Lower. Danny is not all that comfortable with that answer.

"Do you guys live nearby?" Red Robin asks, and Danny can't help but notice that he keeps looking at Damian. Warily. In fact, so is Batman.

He pushes Damian behind him slightly, and Damian's grip tightens on him. "Not... exactly." He says, his eyes narrowing slightly. "My family's visiting my Aunt and my brother wanted to explore since it's his first time out of the city, I guess we wandered too far away if we're running into you."

There's no visible indication of whether or not both Bats reacted to him calling Damian his brother. But he can all but feel little Damian preen at the title, it makes Danny's mouth twitch into a smile as his hand finds Damian's hair.

"Would we be able to go back with you?" Red Robin asks, startling both Danny and seemingly Batman, who looks at him instantly.

"Red Robin." He growls out, and Red Robin throws Batman a look of annoyance.

"We are lost, B. They jammed the comms and our trackers back there and it hasn't come back on yet, his aunt may have the signal we need to let the others know where we are."

They end up walking back with Danny and Damian. It's silent, and awkward, and Danny has Damian walking on his opposite side so he's not near the vigilantes. Red Robin is fiddling with a phone but still can't get a signal.

Batman is silently brooding.

Red eventually gives up and shoves the phone into a pocket on his belt, then turns to make conversation with Danny. "I never thanked you for letting us walk with you. Thanks, by the way."

Danny blinks at him, and smiles awkwardly. "No problem, man," he says, "I'm uh, Danny." He glances down at Damian, who looks up at him with big green eyes, and Damian nods quietly.

He looks back at Red Robin, and says, "This is my little brother, Damian." And Damian peers over his side and glares at Red Robin -- and Batman, who looks over when Danny says his name.

"He looks like Damian Wayne," Red Robin notes, head tilting like he's inspecting him.

Danny huffs dryly, "We get that a lot."

Red Robin smiles at him, its a tilted thing. It makes Danny uneasy. "Where did you say you were from?"

"I didn't," Danny says bluntly, and he really doesn't want to tell them where he's from. Not when Red Robin was acting strange, but they're vigilantes and notorious for their detective skills. If he's suspicious, they'll look into him. "But I'm from Amity Park."

Damian in that moment, peers around Danny again and scowls at Red Robin. Full on scowls at him, as if it were the first months when he met Danny. "You're being nosy." He sneers, his hand squeezing Danny's.

"Damian," Danny hisses, suppressing a smile. Damian jumps like he's been startled, and looks up at him with big green eyes. "He's just being curious."

(He lets his smile slip through briefly, just to let Damian know he's not that upset. A tension leaves his little brother's shoulders.)

"But he is." Damian continues, a whine leaking into his voice. Danny jabs him in the ribs with his fingers, and Damian jumps, swatting away his hand with a squeak.

"Would you rather have us walk in dead silence, Dames?" He goes for Damian's ribs again, a grin stretching across his face as Damian jumps back again and swats his hand. "Hm? Hm? We could just walk in awkward silence for the entire trip back, I know you just love awkward silence, little brother."

(It's funny, saying little brother always sounds so uncomfortable when he reads it in books and watches it on tv. But Jazz always makes it sound so natural when she does it, and Danny finds that he sounds the same too.)

Damian continues to bat away his hands, but it's not enough to prevent him from squealing with laughter when Danny gets a good hold on him and starts tickling him. Danny's grin only gets bigger, and he swoops Damian up with his arm and holds him like a football.

"Is that it? Huh? Me, you, and two vigilantes walking back to Aunt Alicia's cabin in complete, utter silence." He says, "You won't get to hear any of my amazing jokes."

Damian's wriggling, trying to pound on Danny's ribs, he's giggling uncontrollably. It's the best sound Danny's ever heard. "Your jokes are awful! Laeazir! Put me down!" He cries, grinning from ear to ear.

(From the side, both Red Robin and Batman tense up.)

Danny chuckles, and through a short series of flips, has Damian sitting on his shoulders. "I will not. You're sitting up in air jail for insulting my hilarious jokes."

Damian tugs on his hair in revenge, harrumphing at him but making no move to get down. Danny squeezes his ankles playfully, and looks back to Batman and Red Robin.

Both vigilantes look at him like he's grown a second head.

....Red Robin looks at him like he's grown a second head. Batman just stares, and then looks away. Danny tilts his head at them, his smile waning. "You guys look like you've seen a ghost or something."

(Damian tugs on his hair again. A silent boo at him.)

Red Robin jerks, "Oh, sorry." He says, not sounding all that sorry. "It's just... I've lost count to how many times I've saved Damian Wayne from the occasional kidnapping and he's always been very... serious. It's just weird seeing a kid that looks like him be... not serious."

From his shoulders he feels Damian hide his smile in his hair, that's another thing they can put on their "Things That Damian Does That Damian Wayne Does Not" list. It started as a joke, but it's been surprisingly helpful for when Damian is questioning himself.

However, Danny is not a fan of the comparison, and he smiles widely, perhaps a tad passive-aggressive. "It's a good thing that my Damian isn't Damian Wayne then." He says, giving him the slight stink eye.

Red Robin picks up on it quickly, and nods.

The rest of the way is spent in idle conversation. It's oddly casual, even if most of the conversation is Danny talking about himself. It's annoying, but he unfortunately understands the reason. Secret identities and all that.

Damian interjects a few times, some parts to talk to Danny, and other parts to throw shade at Batman and Red Robin. Mostly Red Robin, who seems begrudgingly used to it.

("I'm surprised you haven't asked me much about myself." Red Robin says at one point into the conversation. Over his shoulder Batman glares at Red Robin. "A lot of civilians do when they're able."

Danny stares at him. "You're a vigilante." He says, frowning, "Isn't it superhero 101 that you don't ask superheroes for their secret identity?"

"You'd be surprised."

"Huh. Well, no. I'm not gonna ask you about yourself. I quite like talking all about me.")

When they finally reach the cabin, it's late into the night and Danny has moved Damian from his shoulders to his front in a koala-like carry. Damian's fast asleep with his head on Danny's shoulder.

His family was also frantically searching for him, and Jazz sees him first. She immediately turns behind her and yells "I FOUND HIM!". And then sprints over to him, his parents thundering not too far behind.

Both vigilantes are subsequently ignored as Jazz dotes over him and Danny, and soon enough so is his mom and dad. They're all talking all at once, asking him where he was, they were worried sick, did he know how late it was.

He shushes all of them, loudly. And whispers that Damian is sleeping. His family then immediately quiet themselves, and go back to yelling at him in a more appropriate manner.

"Me and Damian walked too far by accident." Danny finally says when he can get a word in, and then he jabs his thumb in Red Robin and Batman's direction. "We also found two superheroes who need assistance."

The speed of which his family all snap their heads over to the direction he's pointing is almost comical. As is all of their expressions of shock.

His mother is the first to regain her senses, and she sighs at him. She sighs! "Only you, Danny." She says, and Jazz snorts into her arm.

[megalony]

Meet My Family- Part 2

Okay, it's taken me a while but here is the second part of my Evan Buckley imagine. I hope you will all like it, thank you for the lovely feedback on the first part.

Please let me know what you think.

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Evan Buckley Masterlist

Part 1

Summary: Now that Evan's team have met his family and his son, his family have been invited to a birthday party and Evan is touched how everyone makes an effort with his son. (Autistic son)

Enjoy.

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"What's this?" Evan tilted his head back against the sofa and squinted up at Hen who was stood behind him.

She had a cheesy grin spread across her face and one brow arched up in that manner that implied something was going on or that she had some kind of plan formulating in her head. Both her hands planted down on the sofa either side of his shoulders and she leaned forward and indicated her head towards the envelope she had just handed down to him.

"What does it look like?"

Evan rolled his eyes and leaned forward, focusing on opening the pale blue envelope which had Buckley's written on the back.

His brows rose and he pushed forward so he could spin on the sofa and look up at Hen properly once he looked over the card inside.

It was an invitation.

He glanced over the writing and the painted balloons in the background. Denny was having a birthday party next week, coincidently it was Evan's day off, but he suspected Hen had gone to Bobby and they had done the rota so everyone on the A shift could have the day off together.

But what made Evan's heart rocket in his chest was the names scrawled on the top of the page, clearly in Denny's handwriting. Buck, (Y/n) and Rowan. They were inviting Rowan.

"You're coming, right?" It was more a statement than a question and Evan dreaded to give the wrong answer.

Of course he would go, he thought Denny was a sweet kid and parties with the team were always a fun celebration. And he and (Y/n) had nothing else planned, so they couldn't really say no.

"Yeah, of course."

"How's Rowan with music, he's not sensitive to noises, right?"

"The louder the better… are you, um… I mean, Rowan loves parties, but he doesn't get invited to many."

The hidden question was there behind Evan's words. The tone of his voice was careful, he didn't want to cause offence or seem like he was ungrateful for the invite because he was. But in his and (Y/n)'s extended families, there weren't too many people who took the time to understand Rowan.

Their excuses were the usual kind. It was a party for adults or for older children, Rowan was 'too young' to go or he would be tired easily or it would be too loud for him. It was the polite way of saying they didn't want him there.

Evan didn't want Hen to think she was obligated to invite them if Denny was going to have a lot of school friends round who might not understand or who might just sit and stare at Rowan. That wouldn't be fair on anyone.

"Denny wants to meet him, he's heard Chris talking about him, and we want you all there. He's always gonna be welcome."

Evan nodded and took a deep breath to ward off the tears that were starting to burn behind his eyes and nose. The team had met Rowan twice, the first time when they came down to the hospital and again when Evan brought him to the station.

And he had gone to Eddie's house to meet Chris, which had gone down so well that Rowan didn't want to go home.

"You sure? He'll try to explore and take the toys and the food and if he's excited you'll hear him for miles." Evan's tone softened, he wasn't trying to put Hen off or make her change her mind, he just wanted her to know what she was agreeing to.

Rowan was a handful, but Evan wouldn't have him any other way. Rowan would explore Hen's house because it was a new environment and he was curious. He would try and take any present he saw that took his fancy, if he was hungry he would want to pinch the food whether it was time to eat or not. And he was very vocal, if Rowan was excited his noises got louder. He would squeal and scream and laugh and clap because it was his way of expressing himself when he couldn't use words.

"Buck, you've just described every kid that's gonna be there, don't worry, it's gonna be a great day. None of you have allergies, right?"

"Just Pica." The playful smirk on Evan's face made Hen smile and she nodded, patting his shoulder while she rolled her eyes.

Evan had told the team about Rowan's conditions, one of them being Pica, where he would eat non-food items. It was mainly for sensory feelings, if he looked the look or the smell or the texture of something, he would put it in his mouth to learn and explore. Which was why all the cleaning products were locked away in a cupboard in Evan's home, and why they had to keep an eye on Rowan at all times.

When Hen walked back into the kitchen, Evan smiled and nodded to himself. It was going to be an eventful day, if anything. One that he was now looking forward to.

"Are we ready?" (Y/n) looked between her two boys with a smile that was a little apprehensive.

The only one out of the three of them who was any good at parties was Evan. (Y/n) was too nervous and never knew what to do or what to say, she ended up sitting in a corner barely conversing with anyone. And no one knew how to act with Rowan, there was only a handful of people who knew how to interact with him and who were happy to sit with him and try to engage in his ways of play.

Whereas everyone got along with Evan, he was always smiling and knew how to joke around and could intergrate into any conversation and community.

But this was a children's party. (Y/n) knew this was going to be a lot easier than the usual kind of party. She could interact with kids, she knew how to be on their level and understand them and play their games and she had a lot of patience for children.

"Off we go," Evan grinned and tugged on Rowan's hand as they approached the front door to Hen's house.

He kept hold of Rowan's hand and tugged his boy back to his side when the five year old went to push the door. He had a tendency to try and walk into houses straight after knocking, Rowan didn't grasp the part about waiting to be invited inside. He thought it was like going home or going to his grandparent's house, he could walk right in and the door would be unlocked and people would be welcoming.

"Hi! Denny will be thrilled you're all here, come in." Karen opened the door, a wide smile on her face as she ushered them inside. "Hi Rowan." A gentle look washed over Karen's face and she waved her hand at him.

She had heard Hen talk about him, about how it was a surprise to find out Evan had a family of his own and how sweet she thought Rowan was when she met him at the hospital. They were all excited to meet him, and Denny was always open to making new friends.

The five year old studied her curiously as he swayed back and forth, pulling on Evan's hand like it was a rope swing. But he waved at her nonetheless which caused her smile to widen.

"Everyone's out in the garden."

They followed Karen down to the kitchen and out the back door where the noise level raised and the chaos ensued.

There were a lot of balloons tied around the fence, some tied to the few tables outside and placed around the garden with weights to keep them from floating off into space. A banner of Happy Birthday was pinned against the fence on the right side of the garden above the buffet table.

(Y/n) could see something that would grab Rowan's attention towards the back of the garden. A paddling pool. Rowan was very sensory and he loved the swimming pool, if they weren't careful he would be straight in there in his clothes and they wouldn't be able to get him out. And next to the pool was a sandbox that was usually closed up but today was wide open with spades and buckets and a signpost that (Y/n) couldn't read from this far away.

They didn't get very far before Denny spotted them and it was heartwarming to see his bright smile when he realised they had arrived. He had been waiting desperately to meet Rowan.

Denny was sat near the sandbox with Chris who was eyeing the buffet like he was desperate to go over there and try everything. Chris had already met Rowan and they were all pleased that the pair of them seemed to be very happy in each other's company. Chris was a little unsure at first that when he spoke, Rowan didn't give a response. But he could see Rowan knew what was being said and he would smile or pat Chris's hand or just murmur as a way of response.

"You're here!" He bounded over to them with a wide smile and bounds of energy radiating off of him. He stood next to Karen who placed her hand on his shoulder. "I'm Denny."

(Y/n) was quite surprised that Denny's smile actually widened when Rowan made a little humming noise. Maybe he had been told Rowan was non-verbal and thought that meant he didn't make any sounds at all. But it was so lovely to see someone eager to play with Rowan and just be in his presence. They wanted Rowan to have a normal childhood, as normal as possible, and connect with people and make friends.

When (Y/n) held the present they had brought in front of Rowan and nodded towards Denny, the five year old took the hint. He grabbed the bag with haste and thrust it towards Denny with determination in his eyes and his other hand still clinging to Evan.

"Thank you," Denny carefully took the present and looked up at his mum who nodded and took it from him so it could be put with the rest of the presents inside for him to open later.

"Mum's doing a scavenger hunt in the sandbox. Do you want to join?" Denny held his hand out and waited patiently. He knew Rowan might not want to take his hand because he didn't know him, but he thought it was worth a try.

The young boy looked up at Evan, made a 'me me' noise and took Denny's hand. He kept hold of his dad's hand too, dragging Evan along like they were in a chain or a congo but it was enough to make Denny grin. And (Y/n) could barely focus on breathing when all she could feel was surprise and love and happiness.

Denny walked slow enough so they could trot side by side towards Hen, Athena's son Harry and Chris and Eddie. They were all stood near the sandbox and Evan took a moment to look around.

"Scavenger hunt?" (Y/n) looked towards Karen as they both moved to head over to where Athena, Bobby, Chimney and Maddie were all sat nearby with the radio blasting eighties tunes in the background.

"Hen's buried sweets and little fidget toys in the sandbox. They'll have to dig around for buried treasure."

Evan took to looking in the sandbox to get a better view and see what Hen had been up to. He loved the effort they had put in to making games for the kids, it was more than Evan ever had in his childhood, he never had any big parties or fun celebrations for anything in his life. Not his birthday, not to celebrate leaving school or getting into college. His parents were only ever happy to be at a party for Evan when he got married.

He wanted things to be different for Rowan.

Rowan began swaying back and forth, unsure what they were doing or why they were stood waiting near the sand. He knew he didn't usually get to play in the sandbox at school. He had a tendency to put the sand in his mouth because of his Pica and on the odd occasions when he was taken to the beach, one parent always had hold of him at all times so he couldn't try anything.

He started to hum and tick his head back and forth like he was dancing to the music before he suddenly let go of each hand he had been holding. He weaved around the sandbox and made a little squeal as he bounced on his tiptoes and made a beeline for the buffet table.

"Not yet buddy." Evan trotted behind him and clamped his hands down on Rowan's shoulders.

A squeal of protest left Rowan's lips and his brows furrowed as he pointed at the table and stomped his foot.

"No, not yet. Games first."

When Rowan tried to stomp his foot and reach out for a bowl of crisps, Evan moved quickly. He could just envision that bowl going flying and crisps scattering across the floor. He looped his hands beneath Rowan's arms and spun him round in the other direction.

He knelt down in front of the sandbox and gently sat Rowan on his knees as the boys all knelt in the sandbox, ready to dig for treasure.

When Hen said the boys could start digging, Evan handed Rowan a plastic spade and encouraged him to start to dig with everyone else. Rowan seemed content to look at the others for a while, he had never known objects to be hidden in the sand like this. He watched Denny dig up a lollipop and when Chris found a bag of Haribos and pointed to the sand, Rowan started to dig, if a bit lazily.

A very lovely, cheeky smile flooded Rowan's face after a few minutes and he dunked his left hand down into the sand. His fingers curled into his palm and spread out again to feel the sand tickling his palm and flooding between his fingers.

He burrowed his hands down into the sand, grabbed fistfuls and pulled his hands back up. He watched, fascinated, as the sand fell through his fingers like droplets of rain.

His lips parted in a cheeky smile and he locked eyes with Hen just as he poked his tongue over his lower lip towards the sand.

"Ah-ah, don't do that thank you." Evan pressed his lips to the top of Rowan's head and enclosed his large hand around his son's to prevent him from putting his hand in his mouth. He knew what he was doing. He was looking to see if anyone would notice or tell him off.

His head tilted back against Evan's chest as he started to giggle.

He did it for the texture, not to try and eat the sand because he was hungry or desperate. It was a fixation, a sensory feeling, putting things in his mouth was Rowan's way of getting a sensory fix and feeling textures and learning.

"I think you've had enough sand." Evan murmured against the top of Rowan's head before he glanced over at Hen. "Is he okay to wander round a bit?" He would hate to let Rowan wander if Hen wanted all the kids to stay together or to stay in the garden. Rowan liked to explore and that might mean scouting round the kitchen.

"Sure, go have fun."

Evan let Rowan take the lead, he let his boy wander round the garden, not really looking for anything in particular. He was getting to know this new environment, getting used to new surroundings and familiar people and loud noises and different smells.

Evan followed him round, hands in his pockets and a grin on his face. Rowan was doing better than he expected. His boy wasn't screaming or having a meltdown from a sensory overload. He wasn't banging on the tables and chairs or fighting to get at the buffet table and he was being his version of sociable. He wasn't frowning and pushing Denny or Chris away which he sometimes did when he was tired or overwhelmed.

He seemed happy wandering around with his head nodding back and forth and his hands shaking at his sides in stims.

"Hi mister, what're you up to?" Bobby leaned his head to one side as he looked down at Rowan when the five year old paused in front of him.

His big wide eyes stared up at Bobby before he fell into a fit of giggles. He recognised him from seeing him at the hospital and again when Bobby had visited their home for the first time. He reached up and tugged on Bobby's hand, swinging it back and forth before he started to pull him down.

Bobby obliged and crouched down to be level with him, only to have Rowan's cheeky smile widen and his hands started grabbing at the cup in Bobby's free hand.

"Buddy, ask nicely."

He knew not to try and take what he wanted. His head turned to look up at Evan before he turned back towards Bobby and gently patted his wrist. Rowan's sign to imply that he himself wanted a drink.

"Come and show me what you want to drink then."

The Captain took Rowan's hand and they both headed towards the buffet table where there were at least four different bottles of pop and some jugs of juice set out. He knew Rowan could point and choose for himself, he just needed them to be poured for him.

Evan rolled his lips together and dragged his hand across his jaw, unable to hide his beaming smile as he watched his Captain take great care to try and understand his son. Bobby was nodding and humming along to the noises Rowan was making and when they reached the table, Bobby crouched down to Rowan's level and politely asked him to pick what he would like.

Everyone seemed to be understanding Rowan completely and they accepted every little whim and way he had.

The party was going better than expected.

***

"Have you had enough, baby?" (Y/n) tilted her head to the left to where Rowan was sat beside her. He was close enough that his arm was resting on her thigh and their legs were touching, he didn't like to be far apart.

She gently stroked her fingers through his hair as he began humming and pushed his paper plate away, his signal that he was finished.

The boys had been sat very close to the buffet table in case they wanted seconds. They had been sat in a big circle on the grass to have their dinner while the rest of the 118 were in the chairs near the radio, finishing off their food. But Rowan wouldn't stray far from his parents when it was time to eat.

He wasn't much of a fussy eater, he would eat a lot of various things, but if Rowan was at a strange place, he was self-conscious. He didn't like people looking at him when he was eating and he could get overwhelmed when he heard other people eating and the different sounds they made.

And both parents wanted him close by just in case he tried to take something from someone else's plate. He didn't do that often but they didn't want him to start that habit today.

"Good boy," (Y/n) looped her arm around his shoulders so he could snuggle into her side. She was sat on the grass in between Evan's legs with her head resting on his thigh and his legs squeezing into her sides. And every now and then she felt his hand holding her shoulder or feathering up and down her neck as he peppered kisses to the top of her head.

She looked down at Rowan when he started to bash his palm against his mouth, making popping sounds like he was kissing his hand. When he started rocking back and forth, she uncurled her arm from him so he could move around without bashing into her.

(Y/n) looked to the right and she smiled when Chris plonked down on his knees next to her. He looked between her and Evan, clearly wanting to speak to them and be in their company for a while since everyone else was still either eating or chatting and listening to the music.

"I've been learning some new tricks." His wide grin made (Y/n) raise her brow and she tilted her head back to look up at Evan who hummed.

"Oh yeah, like what?" Evan rested his elbows on his knees and his hands on (Y/n)'s shoulders so he could lean over her. His lips pressed to the top of her head but his eyes were firmly focused on watching Chris.

They knew he was trying to learn some little magic tricks, he was venturing into lots of games and different tricks to amuse himself. He was much like Evan in the sense that he took up a lot of different activities and didn't like to stick to just one thing.

It was why they had so much fun when Chris came round and watched documentaries with Evan or when they all went to the zoo or the aquarium.

They listened eagerly as Chris explained what he was trying to do and showed them a trick.

"Pound?" Chris bit his lower lip and held his palm out towards Evan who huffed and rummaged around in his pocket.

"Is this payment, or are you showing us another trick?" He wasn't sure whether Chris was just being cheeky and asking for a coin because he had showed them a good trick. Or whether he needed one to try and perform another magic trick.

"Both."

Evan looked over at Eddie who was sat in the chair next to him. "You do realise I'm being swindled over here?"

Eddie shrugged. He had taught Chris well, it wasn't his fault if Evan always fell for it or always gave in because he was soft at heart.

He dropped a coin into the palm of Chris's hand before he curled his left arm around (Y/n)'s chest just beneath her neck and leaned to press a sloppy kiss to her cheek. He felt her hand curl around his arm and she leaned into his touch and peppered a few hollow kisses up his arm.

Her smile widened when Chris muttered a small "Okay," to himself and he shuffled closer until his knees nudged into (Y/n)'s leg. And he reached out to take (Y/n)'s free hand so he could use her hand as part of the trick.

(Y/n) leaned into Evan's touch and watched Chris intently, but she gasped and shot upright when Rowan suddenly grabbed her.

His hands scrunched up in her leggings and he made a deep whining sound as he scrambled to climb onto her lap. She pushed back into Evan and tried to part her legs so Rowan could sit between them but she couldn't help but groan when he continued to stand and clamber over her like she was a piece of furniture.

"Rowan," She groaned his name and tried to gently nudge him but her gasp turned into a cough when he stood up on her thighs and flopped into her chest, pushing her back into Evan.

"Rowan don't do that." Evan moved his arm that was around (Y/n)'s chest to nudge Rowan back but it didn't work.

The five year old started to make a low grumbling noise and the way he ground his jaw from side to side showed he wasn't happy. His nose crinkled and his lips jutted out before he reached his hand down and grabbed (Y/n)'s wrist, pulling her hand away from Chris.

When Evan noticed the movement, he sighed and bit his tongue to stop from rolling his eyes.

Rowan was getting possessive. He loved being around people, and he loved getting close to people and having their attention, but the same couldn't be said for his parents. He didn't like either (Y/n) or Evan interacting with other people, he thought they should be focused on him and only him.

Seeing (Y/n) playing with Chris made him upset, he wanted her attention, he didn't want her giving her attention to anyone else. They were his parents, not Chris's.

"Chris is doing magic, look." (Y/n) looped her left arm around Rowan's waist and tried to tug him to the side a little so he wasn't smothering her front. She kissed his cheek and let him lean into her chest while she sat back against Evan who kept an arm draped loosely over her shoulder.

She held her hand back out since she still had the coin burning into her palm and Chris tried to do the trick again, but Rowan wasn't impressed.

He pushed forward into (Y/n)'s chest and batted his hand out to whack her hand away from Chris.

"Ro, wanna come sit over here with me?" Eddie put his drink down on the grass beside his chair and reached his hands out in front of him. He wouldn't mind if Rowan wanted to come and sit with him, he would happily entertain him and play with him for a while.

But he wasn't interested. He let out another disgruntled whine, and before either parent could try and say anything, Rowan lurched his right arm out. He looped his arm around the back of (Y/n)'s neck and yanked her forward towards him with a bit too much force.

The movement shook (Y/n) off balance and she gasped when her forehead smashed into Rowan's.

"Fuck!"

A blinding pain shot through her temple and errupted behind her eyes that immediately began to water and pour tears down the bridge of her nose. She couldn't help the yelp she let out and her head flopped back onto Evan's thigh as she let go of Rowan to cradle her nose and temple. For a moment (Y/n) thought he'd given her a nosebleed, but she was relieved to see no blood coating her fingers or trickling down the back of her throat.

Leaning down, Evan cupped (Y/n)'s chin and tilted her head up in his direction and he gently moved her hands away so he could take a look. His fingers skimmed across her temple, wincing when she shivered and pulled back.

"You okay babe?"

"God, that hurt," (Y/n) groaned quietly but she didn't look up at Evan for long, her gaze switched back down to their boy.

He flopped down to sit between (Y/n)'s legs, hands cupping his neck and dragging his nails down his skin in long, deep scratches. Whines and deep cries rumbled past his lips and tears streaked down his face. He hadn't meant to pull (Y/n) harsh enough to headbutt her and it had clearly hurt him. He didn't have a high pain threshold.

"Come here, you're okay." Eddie hopped up from his chair and reached forward to scoop Rowan up and sit back down with him.

He perched the five year old on his knee and cocooned his arms around him, wiping away the tears. And he gently held Rowan's hand to stop him from scratching at his neck. He was rather surprised when Rowan leaned into him and pushed into his chest tight enough that Eddie had to take shallow breaths.

It had been a while since Eddie had patched Chris up after a fall or an accident and he smiled softly when Rowan burrowed into him rather than trying to scramble away.

"What were you doing, hm?"

"Getting possessive," Evan answered with a certain look and raised brows which caused Rowan to frown. He may not have understood the words, but he knew that look all too well. "He doesn't like our attention going to anyone else."

"So no more kids then?" Chimney spoke around the rim of his glass, his nose crinkling as he tried to dampen his smile a little.

He chuckled quietly at the sideways look he got from Evan and the way (Y/n)pushed out her lower lip to distort a smirk. They hadn't thought about that aspect. They were trying to focus on showing Rowan that it was okay for them to give attention to other people and other kids, that he wasn't missing out or being pushed aside.

He couldn't get this upset every time they tried to talk to people or be sociable, he had to learn that it was okay for their attention to be shared with other people.

Especially if, in the future, (Y/n) and Evan thought about having another baby. It wouldn't bode well if Rowan thought it was okay to be possessive over them and then he had to learn from an older age that he had to share them with a sibling.

"Show me again." (Y/n) whispered softly as she held her hand back out towards Chris and nodded for him to redo the trick he hadn't managed to finish with Rowan's little outburst.

She leaned her cheek against Evan's thigh and did her best to keep her eyes open despite the raging headache throbbing behind her eyes and nose. Both her and Evan kept darting their eyes over at Eddie, but he seemed happy as ever quietly chatting to Rowan who was no longer in fits of tears. The toddler was curled up into his chest, humming softly and holding Eddie's hand, letting out a little sniffle every now and then.

Just as Chris finished his magic trick, they all looked up when Denny jogged over to them with a wide grin.

"Mum said we can go in the pool, are you coming?" Denny hovered by the side of them, a hopeful look on his face that brightened as he looked between Chris and Rowan.

Evan was rather surprised Rowan hadn't made a beeline for the pool already, he was one for water, he was like a duck. He couldn't exactly swim but he would paddle and splash and he wasn't afraid to go further into the water at the local swimming pool as long as someone was alongside him. It was one of his preferred activities and something Evan and (Y/n) tried to do with him every week.

With a quick glance over at Eddie, Chris got up and whipped off his shirt which he tossed next to his dad's chair. And when Evan nodded, Eddie leaned forward and gently set Rowan down to his feet and motioned to his shirt.

"Are we off in the water?" When Eddie pointed to the paddling pool, a lovable, excited scream left Rowan's lips before he started patting his hand rather forcefully against his lips to stim. "Alright," Eddie grinned and helped him off with his shirt, he was wearing shorts so he would be fine in the water and (Y/n) had a bag with spare clothes for later.

(Y/n) patted Evan's thigh and tilted her head up to steal a quick kiss before she got up and hurried after Rowan. He needed to be supervised because too many people in a small paddling pool with him was a recipe for Rowan getting overwhelmed. He might try and push people out his way or lash out at them if they were overwhelming him or getting too close.

Once the other kids were in the pool, Rowan seemed to assess the paddling pool. (Y/n) wasn't sure what he was looking for or what he was thinking until he moved towards the left corner of the square pool, then she realised.

He wanted to sit on his own.

Rowan didn't want to be splashing about with everyone else because the pool wasn't big. It wasn't like the swimming pool where people could have their own space, this was a decent sized pool for a back garden, but with four other kids in there, Rowan clearly didn't want to be cramped.

He carefully climbed over the side and flopped into the water like a fish back in its habitat. He sat down with his legs crossed and the water settled just on top of his thighs. His arms threw out at his sides and he splashed his hands down in the water so that it prayed up around him and created bubbles between his fingers. The cold water didn't seem to shock or bother him, he didn't even shiver.

A cheeky smile lit up Rowan's face when Denny handed him one of the spades from the sandbox so he could splash properly and flick the water up.

He shovelled up the water and started to stim, flicking his wrist so the water sprinkled slowly over the edges of the shovel and rained down onto his legs.

"You ever take him to the pool?" Eddie's words caught Evan off guard and broke him out of his thoughts.

He tilted his head to the left, watching his friend as they both moved to sit down nearer to their boys in the pool. Evan smiled when he caught sight of (Y/n) knelt beside Rowan with her arms folded on the edge of the pool. She wasn't splashing or trying to gain his attention, she was just hanging back and seeing how he faired for a while.

Evan sat down with his elbows perched on his thighs and his hands clasped together on his lap while he nodded. "Yeah, yeah he loves going to the pool."

"Could… do you think he'd be happy if me and Chris could join? Chris gets nervous in the pool, I thought going with friends might make him a bit more confident." Eddie didn't want to impose or presume and he wouldn't want to suggest it if Rowan would get too overstimulated or panicked if others joined them in a routine he usually did with his parents.

But if he might be okay with it, Eddie hoped it might help Chris. He wasn't the best swimmer and he was nervous in the pool about people watching, and if his feet couldn't touch the floor, he wouldn't go any further.

Maybe if he went with a group, with Evan and (Y/n) and Rowan he might feel more at ease. And it could be fun to splash around and play in the pool with Rowan as well as try to swim.

"I think he'd enjoy that."

(Y/n) perched her chin on her arm and smiled softly at the boys as they splashed around. But when one of them began to flick and splash at the others and they all retaliated, she saw Rowan flinch. He twisted to the right and shuffled until his side was pressed into the rubbery plastic edge of the paddling pool, staying close to his mum and turning his back to the rest of them.

He continued to splash for a while, kicking his legs so his heels thrashed in the water and cold droplets continued to scatter across his skin.

He let out hums and little noises that sounded like he was singing while he tucked his chin down into his chest and stared down at the lapping water. He could still hear the music playing in the background, but (Y/n) knew he would be focusing on the closer surrounding sounds. The sounds of the boys laughing and screeching and continuously moving and kicking around the pool was going to be more loud and distracting for Rowan.

After about ten minutes, Rowan flopped his head onto (Y/n)'s arm. He stayed cuddled up in the corner, but he seemed relieved when some of the boys climbed out the pool and ran over to the drinks table.

His stimming continued and he started to curl his fingers and he dropped the spade in favour of slamming his palm down into the water and patting the bottom of the pool. He stayed content as (Y/n) kissed the top of his head and ran her hand up and down his back.

Things seemed to be going well until someone popped a balloon.

Loud noises frightened Rowan. Whenever a car or a motorbike drove past and the engine banged, he would shudder and jump a mile. Balloons bursting made a horrid echo and was as frightening to Rowan as a gunshot to everyone else.

"Boys, be careful please-"

As soon as another balloon popped, Rowan screeched. His eyes screwed shut, his jaw dropped like a silent scream, his version of another stim and he began violently rocking back and forth. His heels slammed down into the pool so tightly and roughly that it would undoubtedly bruise the back of his heels.

"Baby-" (Y/n) bit her lower lip when she tried to move her arms forward to try and hold Rowan, but he fought off her touch. His hands lifted up and planted down on either side of his neck and he began digging his short nails into his skin. He dragged them down hard and fast, raking his fingers up and down until blood welled beneath his fingernails and deep scratches welled up on his skin.

His scream pierced through her ears and when she held his wrists to try and pull his hands away. She didn't want him to have a full meltdown here, not when he'd been having such a good day so far and enjoying himself.

"Baby come on, it's okay, you're okay."

She couldn't pull his hands away for more than two seconds before he was crying and moving his hands back to scratching his neck. So (Y/n) settled for slipping her hands beneath his arms to lift him up out of the pool. His elbows thrashed into her shoulders and chest and when his knee collided with her stomach, (Y/n) choked on the little air left in her lungs.

She managed to get Rowan out of the pool and got him sat down on the grass beside her.

He couldn't keep having a meltdown out here, (Y/n) had to get him inside so he was somewhere quieter, safer and secluded so no one could see. It wasn't fair for everyone to see him like this and it was Denny's party. But (Y/n) could already hear the music had been turned off and everyone was as quiet as a mouse. No one moved closer and all the boys took a few steps back, wanting to help but not knowing how.

None of the team had witnessed Rowan having a meltdown, they had only seen him a handful of times and were still getting to know him.

"Okay buddy, come here."

(Y/n) looked up when Evan was suddenly knelt in front of them, speaking a bit louder to be heard over Rowan's cries. He had taken one of the vacant towels from a nearby chair and when (Y/n) managed to pull Rowan's hands from his neck, Evan swooped in with the towel. He wrapped it around Rowan's shoulders and high up on his neck to prevent him from being able to scratch and draw anymore blood.

As soon as it was around him, Evan swooped him up in his arms and got to his feet. He shivered at feeling his boy scream into his neck and he could feel his legs bashing and kicking into his abdomen to try and get free, but he tried to ignore the feeling.

(Y/n) watched Evan hurry ahead towards the kitchen and she paused in her tracks of following him to look at Karen.

"I- I'm sorry, the balloons-"

"Don't be sorry, he's not done anything wrong."

"You can turn the music back on and carry on, don't let this spoil their fun. Once he's calmed down he'll be fine." It wouldn't be fair on Denny and the boys if they kept the music off and effectively stopped the party. They were all having fun and the party wasn't over yet, they could go back to their games.

This was something that happened for Rowan, he would get frightened or overwhelmed or too stimulated and he would have a meltdown. He would scream or cry or sometimes he just went mute and lashed out of they tried to interact with him. But it was becoming more and more frequent that he would hurt himself, whether that was scratching his skin or slamming his hands on the walls. It was his way of a release.

She made her way into the kitchen to find Evan sat on the floor, cross-legged with his back up against a cupboard and Rowan in his arms. The five year old was leant back into his chest, hands clearly stimming beneath the towel and his body violently rocking back and forth as he switched from screaming to crying instead.

"Alright, it's alright Ro, you're okay." Evan repeated the little mantra a few times as (Y/n) moved to sit down beside him on the floor.

They knew they couldn't overwhelm him with words and too much conversation. They couldn't bombard him and ask what was wrong or tell him what to do or say too many different things because it would just confuse and overwhelm him. The same few things were all he needed to calm him down. He needed reassurance and understanding.

When the shaking started to subside, (Y/n) leaned across and very slowly ran her fingers through Rowan's damp curls, brushing them back on his head so they were out of his face.

She paused and leaned back, unsure what Rowan was about to do when he suddenly writhed in Evan's arms and flung off the towel that was seemingly too constricting for him. But she breathed in relief when Rowan scuttled onto her lap instead.

He stood between her legs with his damp chest pushing forward on hers and he instantly looped his arms tightly around her neck. His cheek leaned on her shoulder and he began panting rather than crying, clearly having exhausted himself.

His eyes locked with Evan while he moved back and forth against (Y/n)'s chest, stimming and rocking in her arms to try and stay calm. But Evan was relieved when Rowan didn't cry or try to push him away when he cupped the back of Rowan's head and leaned over to kiss his temple.

"You're okay, buddy."

He was steadily calming down, and he would be a lot happier when they got back home in his comfort zone where he could relax with both parents.

[rogueddie]

Eddie slams his pile of books down on the counter, grinning at how hard Steve startles.

"Jesus, fuck," Steve holds a hand to his chest, glaring. "Man, come on, I'm too young to die of a heart attack."

"Are you sure about that?" Eddie reaches over, to tug at his hair- Steve bats his hand away before he can get near. "What are you now, seventy?"

"I'll have you know that the silver only adds to my charm."

"Sure, keep telling yourself that." He pats the pile of books. "I need to check all of these out."

"You know the limit."

"Please? Pretty please? I'll never insult you for going grey early ever again! Promise!"

"You've made that promise before," Steve grumbles, but starts to check the books out anyway. "What's all of this for anyway? New campaign or something?"

"Nah. Robin mentioned something about the cold war and nuclear shit. Got me curious."

Steve pointedly looks at the books, snorting. "Curious."

"What, you've never wanted to learn some new thing or something?"

"Not this much."

"What about all those sports you played?"

"That was more to do with my parents than me actually wanting to do it."

Eddies eyes narrow because... yeah. Outside of his old King Steve days, Eddie doesn't think Steve has ever wanted something. Not even for his birthday, or Christmas.

All he asks is for them to come to his and Robins flat. All he seems to want is confirmation that they're ok and alive.

"You always say you want kids though, right?"

"I mean, kind of. Though, I'm starting to think the brats we babysat might be more than enough for me."

"Chocolate?"

"Oh no..."

"What?"

"You're planning something, aren't you?"

"No! No, no, no... but there has to be something, right?"

"Something?"

"That you really want."

"There's nothing I need."

"That's not what I'm asking."

"That's all the answer you're getting." Steve shoves the pile of books towards him. "Get lost, I'm supposed to be working."

"Ugh, fine, you're no fun."

But he can't stop thinking about it. He ends up returning the pile of books, despite the fact that he barely read one page. When he tries to use it to question Steve, he dodges the question again.

He very quickly gives up, deciding to pester Robin until she tells him. That takes three weeks of constant, daily efforts. And, in the end, the answer is obvious.

Steve just wants to spend more time with people he cares about.

It's not easy to gather anyone in the party, given that there's no holiday or significant occasion- he manages it, though. All the kids, now young adults, organize transportation. Nancy and Jonathan, over the phone, help Eddie and Robin plan out where everyone will sleep with their small apartments.

The effort, and pain of organizing it all, is worth it for the look on Steves face when he comes home to find them all waiting for him.

When Dustin almost knocks him over with how harm he hugs him, for a second, Eddie is worried that he's going to start crying. But he holds it together, greets them all with so much enthusiasm...

"I forgot that he used to be like this," Robin comments, late into the night. They're sat a little away from the group, watching them argue over their games. "The kids mean a lot to him."

"He means a lot to them."

"I know. I think he forgets though, so... thank you."

Steve doesn't corner him until they've got the kids asleep- half of them going with Nancy, Jonathan and Argyle to Eddies appartment, the rest of them fighting over the little space in Steve and Robins.

"You could've got me chocolate," Steve says, nudging him.

"This is what you really wanted though, isn't it? That was the whole point, big boy."

"Right. Sorry, it... I wanted to say thank you. I know this must have taken a lot to organize and-"

"Steve. You don't need to thank me. Besides, I could never have done this on my own."

"Still... thank you." Steve is quiet for a moment, looking out to the busy city street. "What do you want?"

"This."

"No, what do you really want?"

"Yeah, this. Everyones together, having so much fun. We're gonna do a one-shot when you go to work tomorrow. And, uh... you're happy. I don't need anything more than that."

"Right," Steve clears his throat. He shuffles a little closer, so their sides are almost flush together, tentatively reaching out to hold Eddies hand. "You don't need anything else. What about what you want?"

"You know what I want."

"I want you to say it."

Steve leans over, bumping their shoulders together when he hesitates. He smiles, reassuring, and gives Eddies hand a squeeze.

"What do you want, Eddie?"

"You. I- I want you."

It's terrifying to admit, a horrifying leap... but the smile Steve gives him, so soft and happy, is more than worth it.

"As you wish."

[rosedpetal]

It's Nice to Have a Friend

Summary: How you and Wade became best friends.

Pairing: Wade Wilson x slightly Depressed!Reader

Word count: 1.5k

Masterlist

It smells like sweat, tobacco and cheap alcohol inside the bar. You immediately regret leaving your cozy apartment, wearing those faux leather pants, a black crop top that makes you feel like you're gonna explode out of it and putting makeup on just to end up in a smelly place that has a bathroom that'll probably give you an UTI if you use it.

But it's your best friend's pleading eyes that soften you up, and you know you have been unavailable lately. Always cancelling on her last minute and isolating in your place after your work hours, wallowing in your misery and wondering if that's all life's gonna be now that you're an adult: paying bills and working in a vicious cycle.

"You're not depressed, you're suffering from late capitalism," Maya begins, as she moves flawlessly on her high heels, her tiny little dress fitting perfectly on her. "You just need a drink or ten to forget for a little while."

"Becoming an alcoholic sounds like a nice solution." You roll your eyes, dodging a broken bottle in your sneakers, kicking another aside as you move between all that trash. Maya was such a princess, why she was in love with someone who worked in such a nasty place was very confusing to you.

"You're so funny." Maya said, kissing your cheek, her manicured thumb grazing on the spot her lipstick left a stain, smudging it a little. "He's very important to me, Y/N. And your approval means a lot."

Your heart made that little flip it always does whenever she says something like this. Maybe it's the guilt gnawing at your mind.

"If he makes you happy, you don't really need my approval, Maya." You mumble, following her inside.

The interior is even worse than outside. The bar is full: of big, chunky men. Some are playing pool, others playing poker, others are drinking alone, sulking.

You keep your face straight, wondering which one of those are Maya's new boyfriend. You sigh in relief when she runs to the one who's sweeping the floor, an Indian skinny guy who - thanks to the gods above - doesn't look old enough to be her father this time.

She lets out a girlish squeal as she hugs him, giving him a tight hug. You approach them, alleviated that he seems normal.

"Y/N, this is Dopinder. Dopinder, this is my bestest of the best friends in the whole world." Maya grins, and you force a smile to Dopinder.

"Hello, Miss Y/N, I'm a mercenary apprentice." The young man shakes your hand and your eyes widen in disbelief.

Of fucking course. Jesus Christ, Maya.

"Now, now, my little brown friend. What did I say about introducing yourself like this? Tsk." A voice coming right behind makes you stiff.

You turn to face whoever is invading your personal space, a mean scowl on your face, when your eyes widen just a little bit. The guy behind you stands at least 6'2". It's not his impressive height that has your attention, though.

It's his skin. Scarred all over, as if he had some rare skin disease. You wondered if it was an accident, and how he was before it happened. His grin spreads a little.

"Disgusted, doll face?" He tilts his head to the side, as if challenging you to admit it.

The bitter undertone in his voice doesn't escape you. You are mortified by your own reaction. Maya senses your unease and jumps in:

"Wade, excuse my friend, she never leaves home."

Your cheeks and neck turn pink. Wade thinks it's the cutest thing in the world.

Before you can bite Maya's head off, she hops away with Dopinder, leaving you alone with this guy you don't know. You bite the inside of your cheek, contemplating going back home, but it'll be just another thing for Maya to whine about later.

"Seems like you've been ditched." He smirks, sensing the way you're shying away.

"So it seems." You say bitterly.

"Can I entertain you with my company?" He raises his hairless eyebrow.

You're tempted to just dismiss this guy, but you're already out of the safety of your home. Might as well get drunk now.

Wade talks at an impressive speed and you almost can't catch up to him. He cracks so many jokes that by the end of your second beer, your face is flushed with laughter.

"So... You don't look like someone who usually goes out to have fun, doll face." He pries.

"No, I don't." You say quietly, a sigh escaping your lips.

"Why, then? Why put the effort in dolling yourself up when we both know you'd rather be watching Gilmore Girls in the comfort of your home?"

"I haven't been a good friend lately." You admit, almost meekly, biting the inside of your cheek - another nasty habit that came with the anxiety.

"What's eating you up alive, doll face?"

His question almost makes you choke. How could you tell him that what has been eating you alive is yourself? Your own thoughts? Your low self esteem and your self depreciation? How do you tell him you don't know what the fuck happened between your high school years and college, why your mind is playing tricks on you?

"Please." Your eyes are blinking with unshed tears.

His gaze softens, and he leans in closer, the soft fabric of his hoodie brushing against your forearm.

"Maya is a sweetheart, but we both know she's not that good of a friend. Not if the only way she can gets you to leave your house is by guilt tripping you into it." He speaks in a hushed tone. "Specially if she drops you the moment she sees her boyfriend."

You look up, your gaze finding his.

"You have such gentle eyes." You blurt out.

He wheezes. Wheezes.

"Wow, let's cut your alcohol, okay? Goddamnit, doll face, I'm the ugliest thing to ever exist since Wes Craven created Freddy Krueger." He mumbles the last part, grabbing a water bottle and twisting the cap for you. "Here. Drink it up. Yes, girl!"

"Are you sure this won't upset my stomach?" You raise your eyebrow, eating your second chimichanga.

Wade rolls his eyes, chewing on his.

You two are sitting on the curb, eating deep fried burritos and drinking soda. Not how you pictured how your night would turn out to be, but much better than what you expected.

"Listen, doll face, did I ever let you down?"

"I literally met you two hours ago."

"Exactly."

"So... Why entertain me?" You can't help but ask.

Wade pauses. He thought you were the cutest thing in the world when he saw you, all wide eyed and brooding, a little scowl on your gorgeous face.

"You seemed like you needed saving." He decides on telling a half-truth instead.

"Is this your thing? Saving damsels in distress?"

He contemplates it. There was nothing heroic about how he acted, or his job, or his personality, for all that mattered. Did he have an ulterior motive to invite you to drink with him? Maybe. But who didn't have ulterior motives?

"No, doll face. Being a hero is not how I operate."

"Are you a mercenary, too?"

His grin widens. Of course.

"It's a long story, doll face. Maybe I'll tell you someday."

"Hmm, is there gonna be a next time, then?"

"It depends. Do you wanna hang out with my ugly ass mug in the foreseeable future?"

This time, you roll your eyes.

Wade Wilson got under your skin in a way that no one else did.

It started with the way he cracked jokes at everything.

Then, his unexpected late night visits, where he brought some take out and you'd both eat it together sitting by your balcony.

Then, he came to you wounded, with more tears and bullet holes you were comfortable with – now that you knew about his healing factor and what triggered it, you thought you'd get used to seeing his guts by now.

Spoiler alert: you didn't.

It wasn't until you cried and sobbed on his chest, wondering if you were a failure, externalizing all your insecurities and doubts and fears, that you realized you actually made a friend.

Wade trotting in your place with his ridiculous crocs, a popcorn bowl and a beer on his hand should've give it away.

"I love you." You blurted out, so unexpectedly that he snapped his head to you, a shocked look on his face.

"You... What?"

"You're like my best friend now. And I love you. Deal with it." You repeat, this time more confidently, crossing your arms over your chest, as if daring him to state otherwise.

"Wow, you're in love with me!" Wade squeals like a school girl.

"Wade, that's not-"

"I mean, why wouldn't you? When I'm all that." He points to himself with a chuckle. "So, when did it happen? Did you get lost in my gentle eyes?" He blinks in an affected way.

You sighed. "I take it back. I hate you."

"Suuuure."

"Just press play on the fucking movie." You mumble, plopping next to him on the couch.

[aesthetixhoe]

paparazzi — J.C.

warnings: cursing, angst, mentions of anxiety/self worth issues,

word count: ---

pronouns used: none!

request: can u write where like us and jack are out like at the mall abd fans come up to us asking for photos and all that? (were also a actor/actress. idk is this made sense to u😭)

authors note: I added a bit of other stuff into this, so sorry if this isn't what you wanted. i love this idea deeply! <3

Being an actor and going to the mall was... Stressful. You never knew if you would be recognized, so you always had to wear presentable clothing, plus you didn't know if the people who would recognize would even like you.

The mall was no exception. With the endless stores filled with fellow teenagers and young adults who knew both you and Jack, there was bound to be at least one person who knew you.

Going out with Jack was easier than being alone. He's always there to tell you that no matter who you see, or how they feel about you, you still have fans that love you... Including him. He'll hold your hand, and tell you to squeeze it if you get anxious, give you more small kisses than usual (which is already a lot). The PDA worries you further, thinking that if someone who likes him more sees you two kissing that they'll post about it and try cancelling you or something, but the love is worth it.

You came to the mall to go shopping, you needed some more casual clothes, and Jack needed some higher end items for a premier. Walking into the mall was thankfully uneventful, but once you got further into the populace of the mall, that's when the pictures started.

It wasn't paparazzi standing right inside waiting to run you down but to get pictures, but there were teenage girls who found Jack attractive. While you were also an actor, and have also been in popular things, you weren't a hot boy...

“Oh my god! You're Jack Champion. Holy shit, can we get a picture with you?!” And so it started. He obviously said yes and you moved to the side, not before he kissed your hand though. He wrapped an arm around the girl's shoulder, smiling big for her friend with the camera. They switched so the previous camera girl could get in on it. They thanked him before walking past, both still bright red, slightly shaky and whispering about how cute he was. You had to agree.

About every 30 feet was another person asking for a picture, or autograph. He would stop and gladly do whatever pose they asked for, or sign whatever they wanted. He loved all of his fans, and was willing to do anything for them.

After splitting up and going to your designated stores to buy the items you needed, you two found each other.

The walk to leave was mostly uninterrupted, just a few people recognizing you two and taking pictures. “Looks like we have some paparazzi huh?” Jack jokes, smiling at you. God he's so pretty.

“Yeah...” You say in mindless agreement. You were too busy looking at his smile and the way it made his eye squint slightly.

“Stop staring.” He says as he blushes and looks away. He loves your attention, but it doesn't stop him from blushing every time.

Once you two were home you spent time scrolling through Instagram, looking at the posts jack was tagged in, seeing all the pictures fans had taken with him.

Then... There was a picture of you.

It was a “news” Instagram account that posted celebrity sightings.

“Ah, I see you've found the stalker photos...” Jack chuckles as he approaches the back of the couch. He puts his chin on your shoulder watching as you scroll through the pictures.

“Yeah. I'm actually... Kinda flattered?” You almost ask. He hops over the back of the couch to join you in sitting. He looks at you questioningly.

“What do you mean?” He asks quietly. You hated having candids taken, they ‘always looked bad.’

You look at him before looking down embarrassed. “Well... Normally it's just pictures of you. And I hate photos, you know that, but... It feels nice to be recognized. I just feel like an accessory to you sometimes...” You admit softly.

He grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him. Once you make eye contact, both of his hands settle on either of your cheeks to keep your head steady.

“[Y/n], you'll never be an accessory. You're your own person. You're an amazing actor, and an even better person.” He states into your eyes, and you can feel something. Something warm deep inside of your stomach. Something in your chest, like you'd just drank a hot drink on a cold day that warmed up your insides.

“I love you.” You breathe out, thoughtlessly. Thoughtlessly.

Your eyes widen in shock as your mouth falls agape. You actually said it... Holy shit. He's silent. Oh fuck. Oh god. This was such a mistake.

“Jack, I am so sorry. I-I wasn't thinking and it just fell out and I know we haven't said it yet, and I don't want you to feel obligated to say it back but I just-”

“I love you too.” He smiles softly, leaning in to kiss your lips. It felt like the stars aligned and the earth stopped spinning and time stopped and everything else people use to describe being in love.

You pull away, looking into his eyes, tears welling in yours. “Are you ok? Should I not have said it?” He asks, brows furrowed in worry.

“No!” You exclaim grinning, then reaching your fingers to the nape of his neck, “I'm just so in love with you.”

[erosmutt]

/ thinkin' bout﹒☆

﹒neighbor sam + MILF!reader﹒⌅

"I just feel like he's fuckin' tryna keep me away from my friends, you know?" Sam complains to you, angrily stabbing his fork into the fruit salad his mother made. He was sitting up on the side of the lounge chair in his father's lawn, boots planted in the sparse grass, headphones and walkman discarded next to him. As he bites a grape off the fork, you work some sunblock onto his pale skin, a breathy laugh leaving your lips. "Is he?" You croon. "I think he's just trying to get you to be productive, honey."

Sam frowns, eyebrows furrowing and nose scrunching as he squirms underneath the beaming California sun. "No," he manages with his mouth full of fruit. He chews angrily, shifting on the seat as you work the last of the sunblock in your palm onto his lower back. "He hates me and I hate him." Sam begins after swallowing. "He's, like, trapping me here! It's so stupid, you don't get it. You're an adult, you can like, go out and do stuff if you want to."

"Well," you begin, standing up and capping the bottle of sunscreen. "You're an adult, technically. Though, just because you're 18 doesn't mean you can just run off." You explain as you tuck the bottle into your woven beach bag. You'd seen him just as you were going to take a walk down to the beach, invited him, and he declined. Kindly, you offered to apply some sunblock for him to keep him from getting a sunburn, poor thing.

With a mutter of some colorful words directed at no one in particular, Sam slams his small bowl down onto the seat next to him, beside his well-loved headphones. "Whatever." He narrows his eyes, plush lips fixed into a pout, nose still scrunched. You sigh and squat down in front of him, yellow floral-printed sundress flowing gently as you lower yourself to speak to him where he'll pay attention. Though he was now an entire 18 year old young man, Sam was incredibly childish. You place your hands on his thighs, giving a ginger squeeze. "You want to go see Corey, yeah?"

He looks down at you, features easing up as he now doesn't have to combat the sun so much. "Yeah," he nods. "Then, you need to act like it, Sam! Whining isn't going to get you anywhere but right back in there with George. You know that, right?" You chide softly. The teen sighs heavily, giving you a pronounced roll of his eyes before he rubs his hands over his face, rings on his fingers clinking together. "Whatever." He murmurs into his palms, slouching. You just sigh and stand up, then give his shoulder a pat. "Join me down at the beach if you need to talk, sweetheart."

Sam removes his hands from his face, turning and straining his neck to watch as you walk away, bag over your shoulder, dress flowing as you walk against the breeze, down towards the beach.

@mortalheartache ⋆ @vixxensvoid ⋆ @ysrjune ⋆ @emmaloo21 ⋆ @102hannah ⋆ @starvrse ⋆ @anakinstwinklebunny ⋆ @wifeofasith ⋆ @ilovekmchenzie ⋆ @geekforhorror ⋆ @gallerygourmet ⋆ @anakinsbbgirl ⋆ @brooklynb8by ⋆ @mugwump327 ⋆ @offthethirlwall ⋆ @fallout-girl219 ⋆ @catnipaddictt ⋆ @jadegmfu ⋆ @dazednstars141 ⋆ @thesassypadawan ⋆ @anisscarletstarlet ⋆ @t03soup ⋆ @espinathena-17 ⋆ @lunarnightt ⋆ @demieyesore ⋆ @jediskyguy69 ⋆ @s1aywalker ⋆ @syralix ⋆ @tfmerc ⋆ @piastricentric ⋆ @skywalkerswife82 ⋆ @gabsskkk ⋆ @literally-izzy ⋆ @valloos

[lizzaneia-elizalde]

Older Male Yandere x Young Female Reader

I don’t want this to sound/look bad, but a new yandere who has DILF energy. NOT an actual DILF (he doesn’t have any children…yet), but he could basically pass as one since he’s amazing with children and is on the older side (so like 40s?)

I’m sorry…I kinda have a thing for older, mature, responsible men. And I just wanna be a baby girl for them sometimes (yes don’t worry I’m an adult adult, not someone who just legally became an adult; I know about relationship power dynamics, potential for abuse, etc.)

P.S. There needs to be older yandere men in general (like genuinely older than reader darling). It’s such an untapped archetype

Thanks!!! 💝

Yandere! Male! Dilf! NSFW asmrtist! x Fem! regular! Superfan! Reader

Hmm, I actually had problems thinking of what to put as a plot... Then my keyboard autocorrected Dilf to D*ldo and I was like 👁️👄👁️ and then WAIT. HOW ABOUT A NSFW ASMRTIST? (since you know, d*ldo is sexual and some people please themselves with the toy when they listen-- you get the gist)

I remembered a certain ASMRtist(?) that introduced me to NSFW yandere audios, so I'm naming the yan from him. He just did one from what I know? But "Hot Boy Summer" will have a special place in my heart bajwkdkxmf

Note: this one has explicit NSFW in this one, just putting it out. Daddy kink, but only mentioned once.

Yandere! NSFW asmrtist name: Rose

"Another Rosas banger"

"It was so good help"

"My legs just spread apart"

"Daddy just served dinner AND I'M EATING WELL TONIGHT"

As Rose posted on a certain subreddit for NSFW audiophiles, people immediately flooded the post. They upvoted, commented, some dared to share.

But to a lot, it's a sweet, dirty secret that they listen to NSFW audios. Especially yandere audios.

I mean, who in their right mind want somebody as obsessed and possessive as yanderes? Even in fiction, they are weird!

Well, not for Rose and his audiences.

He feeds into their fantasies. May it be CNC, full on NC, BDSM, or his audience's favorites: Yandere Dilf audios.

God, people eat them up like no other.

Due to this, Rose, with his username RosasAudios, achieved some kind of cult following. Close to a million followers, he made being an NSFW voice actor a full time job.

His naturally deep voice with a little bit of huskiness, a little bit of accent that's vaguely SE Asian, and an undertone of sweetness, made people giggle and writhe in their bed. And to those more peculiar, he feeds into their daddy issues.

He was never loud in his audios. Just a modulated talking tone, maybe even a whisper. So when the NSFW part happens, due to the binaural nature of his audios, it feels like he's really there when you listen to his audios. Whispering hot breath into your ear as the wet sfx filled your senses.

He loved the attention. But at most, he looks at it as a past time that provides enough money to live in slight luxury due to commissions and subscriptions.

In reality, he's a 40-ish year old man, living alone in a suburban neighborhood. Bookish in nature, he dons a soft, yet reliable look. Messy hair that covers his forehead, thick framed black eyeglasses, a carefully trimmed short beard that clings to his olive skin, soft, resting eyes that feels like it soothes one's soul whenever they look at them, a tall frame with enough buff-ness that one can rest on his chest with comfort, and an outfit consisting of light academia clothes of sweaters, shirts, pants, vests, etc. Laugh lines and slight wrinkles decorated his handsome face.

Even then, neighbors swoon for the man. Even married people.

He's sweet, reliable, generous, kind, good with kids. Why doesn't he have a spouse again?

With a gentle shake to his head, he scratches his neck and whispers bashfully with a red face.

"I'm waiting for somebody."

That made people swoon over him more.

As people longingly look at the lonely man, he bows to them and enters his home to record another set of audios for the highest tier on his subscription.

And, despite having a handful of people there, there's one person he's excited on making a dedicated, personal audio for.

You

And you? A superfan. You've been listening to Rose for a long time. Dare I say, one of his first, if not the first, regular.

You discovered him first when your friend introduced you to the subreddit.

His post, not getting that much attention due to being plain. No that much tags nor flairs at all. Just an inconspicuous "first audio [M4F] [Vanilla] [yandere]" and that was it.

When you listened, the mic had a weird quality to it, but god where you aroused due to how genuine it sounds. Like he's specifically talking to you with how... Personal it sounds.

And yeah, his first audios were not for you at all. Just your typical audios for a lot of people.

So, you lurked on his account, being his first follower.

You commented on the post also.

"first audio? Are you sure? You sound so good! This is my first time here in the subreddit. And if a newcomer like you already has this quality, I know I'll have a good time here."

Lengthy, but it gave Rose the boost of confidence he needs.

So, naturally, he replied.

"thank you so much! I just saw this subreddit one day and, by sheer boredom, decided to try it. It's weird, but thrilling. And it's your first too? I'm glad to be your first 😉"

He felt the wink and joke was too risky, but you replied in barks so, despite being bewildered due to not used to internet in-jokes, he laughed and decided to continue the grind.

Even as he continued to pump audios, you never failed to listen to every. Single. One.

You were in love with his audios and voice.

And he was falling for you.

God, is it weird to fall for a stranger on the internet?

So, by the time he reached 100k followers, he decided to do a small meet and greet online to those who can decipher the message.

And you, feral little minx you are, deciphered it in a jiffy and slammed the answer on his inbox.

You were the first too.

Rose, frozen, shakily sent you the zoom meeting room.

Nobody other than you deciphered the message yet.

He wants to talk to you one on one.

So, as he fixes himself and slaps his own cheeks to wake him up, he nervously waited for you to join the meeting with the password.

Then, he saw you.

Gorgeous, beautiful you.

His eyes sparkled like it didn't sparkle before. His heart, painfully beating on his chest and his ears, overflowed with attraction and love as he drank in your figure.

"Rosas omg hi! We finally got to talk one on one. Well, as one on one as a video call is."

Oh, how he groans. Your voice is sweet and lovely in his ears.

"Hi, y/nDarling. I can't believe I get to see the face of the person who has been with me since... Forever!"

"Right?! And damn. Rosas, take this with full confidence, alright? You're fucking hot."

Rose shakes his head with a chuckle.

"You... You're as cheeky as your typings."

You stuck out your tongue childishly and he laughs. His deep voice making you shiver.

"Oh and, you're actually old?"

"ouch?"

"OH MY GOD NO WHAT I MEAN IS, since you frequently make dilf audios, and you're actually one--"

Rose blinks. You consider him a dilf even in person?

He leans forward with a lopsided smirk.

"So, you consider me as a daddy you'd like to fuck?"

"No, stop STOP I DIDN'T MEAN THAT! WAIT, I MEAN IT, WAIT OH MY GOD ROSAS PLEASE STOP TEASING ME."

And as he laughs loudly, he knew you were the one.

He continued to talk to you for a long time, due to his other followers being quite slow in deciphering the message.

He did make the message with you solving it immediately in mind, while the others will struggle.

They were not you, after all.

Why would he care?

When he ended the video call, he had a silly, lovesick grin on his face.

He wants to make an audio.

And that audio was his most viral due to being so genuinely feral, lovesick, and longing it is for the listener.

"Ugh... Fuck, you're so tight..."

"Bend over for me, love. Don't you fucking dare crawl away."

"yes, just like that. Open your mouth, stick out your tongue like that..."

Rose, in his recording studio (his walk in closet), recorded the personal audio for you. You requested CNC, predator and prey, DILF, and breeding, along with other tags that can make a victorian lady die from how obscene it is.

At first, when he opened his subscriptions, he was bewildered by your wild and straightforward requests, but now he's used to it. Maybe even love it.

He imagined you bending over for him, your sweet hole gripping his c0ck as he pistons inside of you. Your tear stricken face, aroused with fear and desire, looks at him, begging for more.

Rose flinches, as he lets out a loud groan to the microphone. Cumming all over his hands.

Hey, it helps with authenticity, okay?

Rose sighs, imagining you cradled into his tight embrace as he said the last lines of the script.

"You're mine, y/n. Nobody else's, just mine."

And, he ends the audio with a sloppy kiss.

He slumped down to his chair, spent yet satisfied.

But he wants more.

Yes, he did screenshot when you video called him, but that was it. It was years ago too, and he needs more material.

After cleaning up, he spun around and went to the computer to edit his raw audio with sound effects.

At first, it was weird hearing his voice saying all of the deprived shit he said, but now it's just work.

But with your audios, he was meticulous. Making sure to put as much genuine wet sfx (from him masturbat1ng), and atmospheric sfx to make your listening experience the best of all. Yours were the longest too, at least climaxing twice every personal audio.

Can you tell he has favoritism for you?

And, when he finished editing, it was already morning.

Sending the audio to you, he stood up, stretching, and went to the kitchen to make himself coffee.

It was supposed to be a typical Tuesday. Nothing that much happens in this suburbs, let alone the town he's in.

So, he turned on the radio, grabbed his coffee mug, and went outside to watch the beautiful sun coming up to the sky.

Settling in his usual chair on his patio, he drank his coffee, greeted people as they passed by, doing their own thing.

The wind was kind of cold, but nothing unwelcomed as Rose's attention got picked up by a moving truck just in front of his home.

Huh, finally. A new face to the suburbs.

He drank his coffee, before coughing it out when he saw a familiar face getting out of the car following it.

It was you.

How?

What?

Why?

Huh?

He watched with wide eyes as he watches you bounce around in excitement as you helped the movers take out your things and into your home.

He doesn't know what to do. He wants to run to you, embrace you and twirl you around.

But no, not yet.

Why are you here?

By some kind of sick joke, he thought you were stalking him.

But no, that's too much.

You're too sweet. You can't do that.

So, he just watched, waiting for you to notice him.

But you didn't, too busy on your own work to notice the older man on his patio looking at you with such longing and desire.

With you finally going inside your home, he ran inside the house and slumped down behind the door. He clutched his chest, eyes wide, blood pumping, soul rattled.

You were here.

You came to him.

He gulped, shakily standing up. The coffee mug forgotten outside but who gives a shit right now.

You're so close to him, within his grasp, and he will make sure to utilize it.

He went to the kitchen, immediately whipping up breakfast food from your country of origin before stopping.

Were you allergic to anything?

God is he stupid?!

4 decades of being alive yet he forgets if you have any allergies?

His hand shook before scrapping the food altogether.

What should he do?

He decided to whip up something relatively tasty and safe before letting it slightly cool down.

He rushes to his room, frantically showering and lathering and cleaning as much as he could, getting dressed in his casual fit that looked like he just "carelessly put together despite how amazing it looked". He trimmed his beard, dabbing on serums and moisturizers, concealers on his eyebags, before running downstairs.

He grabbed the food before rushing to your doorstep.

Wait, would it be weird?

Wouldn't it be awkward?

He did do NSWF audios, so that means you pleased yourself to his voice, right?, ( God please let it be real that you did use his audios as material)

So, it's like... Maybe seeing your teacher in public?

No, the comparison is off.

He knocked on the door.

"hello, do you..."

You froze.

He froze.

Time seemed to stop as the both of you looked at each other.

You recognized him, he recognized you.

"Ah... Rosas...?"

He grinned, laughing gently. You shivered, hearing the voice you unconsciously conditioned your body to become aroused in person for the first time.

"Hey, Y/n. Welcome to our neighborhood."

He revels in the desire in your eyes as you squeezed your thighs together.

You both became somehow good friends.

It was still awkward, seeing as how much you listened to Rose moaning and doing NSFW stuff.

But it didn't overwhelm your excitement.

It's like, seeing your idol irl, but you're his neighbor.

It made you giddy, happy, and nervous.

Meanwhile, Rose loves this new development.

He's not going to die alone.

You were there with him.

God gave you to him on a cement platter.

At first, it was just an innocent pass by.

He would pass by your house, looking at the inside by your window, his mouth whispering loving words to your figure inside. Then he got a bit risky by going boldly to your house at night to spy on you sleep.

But he wanted to know more about you. He ached, craved to know more.

So, with little to no morality left, and the only source he knew of extreme ways to show affection are his audios, he decided to fully embrace being a yandere.

At first, he still felt guilty. You inviting him over to talk, he pocketing some of your mundane things like a sock, and him bringing hidden cameras and microphones to plant inside your home.

He shivers. The thought of seeing you inside your home so vulnerable and unprotected is making him aroused.

Next, he does the next script. Using your sock to pleasure himself to make the moans and groans genuine.

The feeling of your sock, the knowledge that you wore this is making him burst at the seams.

"God, you make me feral, love."

"you're only mine, only mine. Nobody else to have you, just me."

"Yeah, cum for daddy. Come undone, baby."

How he wishes to tell you these words in person.

And, as he finishes with a jolt and a loud groan, he imagines you laying on his chest and him combing your hair with his fingers.

By the morning, he finished editing the audio, and uploads it.

He waits for you to listen to it.

He didn't need to wait for long, as the coms crackle with your giggle.

He turns on the hidden cameras, and saw you dive to your bed with headphones on, watching you close your eyes and probably imagining him.

He saw you look longingly at the window that faces his house, and he grins at the thought of you wanting him so bad.

He watches as you writhe and relax, your hands going under your clothes as you followed what's happening on the audio. He felt himself harden once more.

Fingers playing with yourself, and his hand encircling his hardened c0ck.

He pants in want, seeing you bite your lip and arch your back from the pleasure. Your eyes trembling with the euphoria.

He continued to please himself to you pleasing yourself, groaning and grinding into his hand. Wishing it was you.

And, as you came, he threw his head back, breathless and dizzy from the overwhelming pleasure.

As he stayed there lying, he watches you do the same thing again. Looking longingly at the window.

"Soon, love." Rose whispered to the computer monitor. "I will have you in my arms soon."

Both of you were relatively normal after that. Like you didn't just pleasure yourself to his voice and him doing the same to you.

But the unmistakable hunger in both of your eyes and teasing touches were a sign that things are going to break soon.

And he just waits until you can't do it anymore.

Yet he waits.

He'll continue to upload audios.

Make you ache for him so badly, knowing he's just a few meters away.

Who will break first?

But in the end, you will still end up in his arms.

"Come to me, love."

And he'll whisper to your ear lovingly as he breeds you in an animalistic way.

Don't you want that, baby?

[rival-ideologies]

Let's talk a touch about Oscar Tully, Lord Paramount of the Trident and the Riverlands, as he is presented in the show (not the book, very different guy in that). Much ado has been made about how he basically led Daemon "I have a dragon and won the illegal Stepstones War" Targaryen by the nose at the Harrenhal gathering, and it's true, he did exactly that. But how?

First you have to understand what being a Tully is at this juncture in Westerosi history. "Family, Duty, Honor" are their words, and they're fine ones, but they really only scratch the surface of what a Tully actually is as a profession, the profession this family has had since the Conquest, about 130 years or so before the events of House of the Dragon: tard wranglers.

So for the past century and a bit more than a quarter, this family of tard wranglers have made it their business to mostly-successfully keep their pack of banner Houses in line with minimal drama above the level of the occasional fistfight, despite several of those banner Houses packing more military heat than House Tully itself. This held true despite mediocre Tully lords over several generations since the Conquest, for while many mediocre Tullys may have been shit at high governance, the one thing they were getting right consistently was wrangling tards.

So prior to our lad Oscar taking over the big seat at age 16 (which doesn't happen in the book, but we're not going by the book for this, do recall) he had a dad, Elmo, who died young, but Elmo hadn't been in charge of House Tully very long (if at all) before croaking, so he's a bit irrelevant. Young Oscar, instead, didn't learn the family trade from dad Elmo, he learned it from Grandpa, the real guy in charge of House Tully: Grover. Now Grover's age at death isn't accurately known, but we know he was ANCIENT when he died; he's described as being old (in the book, okay we do have to use it for dating things, sorry) in 101 AC, which implies a birthdate prior to 59 AC, when Prentys Tully died, and Grover died ANCIENT in 130 AC. If adult age in Westeros is 16, we can infer through assumption that Grover assumed control of House Tully at age 16 in 59 AC upon Prentys's death, so Grover would have been born in 43 AC, so he keeled over at the age of 87. That means, if we handwave however long he was unable to function completely at the end, he ruled as a tard wrangler for 71 years, over half the time since the Conquest that granted House Tully Paramountcy of the Riverlands. That was the guy at whose knee Oscar learned tard wrangling from.

Daemon Targaryen had no chance. He got played by a creature selectively trained to be a tard wrangler since birth, and has existed for all of his 16 years to fulfill that function. Every single instant from his opening line "I did nothing," to the final declaration of "-and dispense justice!", Oscar was tard wrangling the entire time.

Oscar Tully was FORMED for things like that meeting, and everything that went down at that meeting was him wrangling tards.

[miniwheat77]

Sweet. (Captain Price x Reader)

!NSFW, Smut, Fingering, Roofies, Oral Sex (fem recieving), unprotected p in v sex !MINORS DNI! Edited!

*added p in v sex part*

When you were recommended for 141, nobody really seen why.

Captain Price didn't think you were all that special, none of the others did either. But nonetheless, he decided to give you a chance. He was a little hard on you for awhile, pushing you during training, being a little rough when it came to talking to you, and his punishments were even worse. He was very difficult and you didn’t understand why he seemed so passive to everyone except for you.

You hated being apart of 141, it was the worst thing Laswell had ever recommended. You thought maybe Captain Price hated you because you were young. He seemed to have the mentality that the military wasn't meant for young adults. Which, truth be told. It probably wasn't. But it was the only means of escape you had.

"This mission is different." Captain Price makes his way inside the conference room. Stacks of papers in his hands. "And I think this is the perfect time, we see what Y/N's got." he smirks. This clearly wasn't an important mission. Otherwise he wouldn't have you on it. Because for some reason, he hated you. "This is a capture only mission. Y/N will lead the way." He smiles.

—

A sigh falls from your lips. "You know. I'm a little annoyed that I got roped into this. I had intentions of someone else doing it." You complain. Captain Price chuckles. Sitting next to you in the limousine. "Well, sweetheart. You happen to be the only female around. Besides, you never said how you'll get him to tell you anything or how you'll capture him." He smirks. "I have a plan. Just trust me." He nods his head. He's wearing a suit and you have on the tightest black dress known to man. Tall black heels and your hair and makeup is done to the best of your ability. Something Captain Price hadn't ever seen before.

"Follow my lead." You mutter. He follows you up through the front doors of the penthouse, very similar to the one you'd captured Valeria in. It's full of people dressed to perfection. There's a huge dance floor surrounded by tables. The both of you make your way inside, sitting at the bar.

For the next hour, it's the both of you trying to blend into this party, even going as far to dance with one another on the dance floor.

"I have eyes." You whisper to John on the dance floor. He spins you around, your back pressed up against him, his mouth right next to your ear. "I see him too, you ready for this ah?" he smirks. "Oh yeah." His hips brush up against yours and he closes his eyes for a second.

It doesn't take much for you to get your targets attention. Sitting a few stools down from him at the bar. "Whatever you do, do not let me be in a room alone with him for too long. No more than 5 minutes if you have no eyes." You mumble into the radio.

"Copy." John says, he's a little confused by how crucial you've made it sound. The man sits down in the stool next to you and begins talking to you. It doesn't take long until he's wanting to get into a room upstairs with you. You sweet talk him the entire time. You get into the elevator with him, nervous the entire time. "Eyes." Ghost says into the radio, a sense of relief going over John. He had seen you enter the elevator.

Once he has you alone upstairs. He puts a hand on your side. "I know who you are. American Military ah?" He whispers, the hair on your body stands up. "Yes." He wraps a hand around your throat and Ghost lines up a shot. "I came here to warn you. They planned to attack tonight. I'm on your side, I want to join you." You plead with him.

John narrows his eyes, he's still sitting at a bar on the first floor. The radio is oddly silent. "Look now!" you plead, just as soon as Soap makes his way up the stairs, the man draws his weapon. Soap lets out a yell as the man shoots at him. "Falling back Captain!" Your radio goes off.

The man narrows his eyes at you. "Why should I trust you?" he asks. "She knew he was going to shoot and didn't tell me. We need to leave, regroup, and find a new plan." Soap says into the radio. "The hell?" John shakes his head. "I'll tell you anything you wanna hear." You breathe out. He nods his head. He grasps your wrist, dragging you along. "Is she working for him?" Soap asks. "Don't know. Whatever you do Ghost, do not lose sight of her." John says into the radio, attempting to make his way up the elevator but it was taking forever. "Yes sir."

"That cheeky little minx!" Ghost exclaims into the radio. "What? What's going on?"

"She's just roofied him!" He laughs. "What? How?" Soap asks. "She must've convinced him it was acid. Put it on her tongue and than swapped it to him." He laughs. "Gross, like... she kissed him?" Ghost rolls his eyes as soap says it. "Shit, he's pulling her into a room. Get to her now, I have no eyes." Ghost says frantically.

Price hears it and gives up on the elevator, trying to make his way up the stairs.

He pushes passed everyone, reaching the second floor where you were.

He opens the front door. Seeing there’s nothing but random stuff laying around the room. He quickly moves to look through the rooms, opening a door to a bathroom. The other must be the bedroom. He kicks it open.

The man is on top of you, he's delirious but he's pulling your dress up. You're trying to fight him off, but he's got your hands pinned with his knees. John pulls him off of you and he passes out as soon as he hits the floor.

"Y/N?" He asks. You look far more scared than he’s ever seen you. "Captain." You hug him quickly. "What happened darling? Are you hurt?" He pulls away, looking you up and down. "He.. He tried to.." John shakes his head. "Did he?" He asks. You shake your head. "It's alright. You did amazing Y/N." He breathes. Pulling you into his side. Soap pushes into the door, seeing the room is a little messy and the man is on the floor. "Why were you so adamant on 5 minutes?" Soap asks.

"She's a virgin." Ghost says, he's on the windowsill. He startles all of you. He'd used a tool to get across to the building. "What?" Soap asks.

He laughs. "You wouldn't notice at first glance. But around him she was a little awkward. Maybe a bad idea to throw her out there as bait." Ghost starts to tie up the man. "I had no idea." John says. You look at the ground, cheeks lighting up. "I... Yeah." John nods his head. "Come on, lets get him back to HQ."

—

"Hey." John says, tapping on your door that was already open just a crack. "Hey." You say back, turning toward the mirror. You were pulling all of the bobby pins from your hair. He closes your door behind himself.

He pulls his hat off, sitting down next to you on the edge of your cot. "I owe you an apology." He says, grasping your hand in his to get your attention. You turn to look at him, your eyes were stunning to him, complimented perfectly by the eyeshadow you had put on.

"I should not have sent you in there like that. I know how bad people like him could be to women and I didn't think about your well being. For that, I'm very sorry."

You smile, looking down. "I should have been up front. I should have told you I was uncomfortable. I let him intimidate me in there. I didn't like it at all." You look down at your free hand, the other pulling out the final bobby pin. You almost take Johns breath away when your hair falls out around your face, something he hadn't ever seen before. "I just.. you're kinda hard on me. I wanted to prove to you that I could handle it, but having him stare me down like he did. Touch me like that. Just made my skin crawl." You mumble.

He places his hand on your bare thigh. "I know love. I am a little rough on you, but I have to be. I want you to understand that if you let your guard down even just a little, you'll die. I care about you and I don't wanna see you hurt. Ever. If something happened to you, I'd never forgive myself." He sighs. "You really proved yourself today, you did great. And by the way, you're a great dancer." He smiles. "You had me fooled, ya did. I would've never guessed you were a virgin." Your cheeks heat up. You laugh.

"How the hell did you convince him to take the roofie ah?" You smile, looking down. "I'm very sneaky and manipulative, Captain. It was easy." He laughs. "Try it on me." he turns. "Okay." You look forward, taking a deep breath. "You know, this dress is a little tight." You spin around, pretending to be uncomfortable, moving closer to him. “You mind helping me?” You mumble. He thinks it’s bait, unraveling the back of it where it’s tied. Once he’s got it taken off, you pull it down slightly. Revealing your cleavage.

You turn to look at him. Staring into his eyes. You swallow hard feigning innocence.

You lean into him, pressing your lips to his.

He's got a tight grip on the blanket, and you keep his interest for quite some time. Even going as far to wrap your arms around his neck.

When you finally pull away, his eyes are closed and when he opens them again, you look at him, a smile on your face. "Okay. I don't see how that's manipulative in any way." He looks confused. You tilt your head. "Maybe not manipulative but sneaky.” You smirk. "Check your pockets."

He narrows his eyes, feeling around his pockets, but they're all empty.

He looks confused.

You bring your hand from behind your back, holding a cigar and a dog tag in your hand.

His eyes widen, a grin covering his lips. "You are a cheeky little thing aren't you?" He laughs. "That kiss even felt real." He laughs. Your smile falters a little bit. His eyes widening. "Oh, because it was, wasn't it?" He laughs. You blush at his teasing and turn away from him. He smiles, grasping your chin and pulling your face to look at him. "Look at me, lass.”

He presses his lips to yours again and you smile into his lips when you feel him reaching for his cigar. You push his hand away, sliding it into his pocket, not taking your lips away from his for even a second.

He starts to lean back and he pulls you with him, lifting your hips up so you could straddle him as he lays back on your bed. Your lips stay on his and he needs to stop you, but he can't. "Y/N, you gotta stop me sweetheart. I can't stop myself." He pants.

"I.. I don't want to stop you." You’re breathless. He pushes you back slightly and he stares into your eyes. They glimmer in the light from your small lamp and he needs to stop. Before he goes too far and gets you both into trouble.

In a way, he feels like he's taking advantage of you. But he can't stop himself. "Lay on your back." He mumbles. Once you do, he pushes himself between your legs. He leans down, kissing you again. This time with a little more desperation than the last. He pulls away, planting a kiss right onto your chin, than again on your neck. He trails them down, tugging your dress down along with him. Sucking love bites into your chest where your breasts were nearly exposed to him.

"Do you want me to stop?" He pulls away for a second, hands gripping the top of your dress. You shake your head. “No..” you whine.

He pulls the top down, revealing your breasts to him entirely. You suck in a sharp breath. How someone could go from hating you to touching you like this so quickly was beyond you.

He plants a kiss to your nipple, maintaining eye contact as he does so, parting his lips just slightly to run his tongue along it. Sucking it between his lips gently. A whimper falls from your lips, you start to squirm underneath him. His facial hair scratches your skin perfectly, creating a burn that feels so good, you couldn't quite describe it.

He moves to the other side, doing it once again to your other nipple until you're starting to whimper a little too loud. You were waiting in anticipation, wanting nothing more than to feel that burn between your legs from his facial hair. The thought alone making arousal pool between your legs. He kisses down your stomach, tongue running along your skin as he moves, lower and lower. He pushes your dress up and over your hips, fingers wrapping around your panties and pulling them off. Your dress bunches up over your stomach. Revealing you to him completely. He looks up at you again, eyes meeting yours. As he lowers himself into you, he keeps eye contact.

Licking the first stripe up your slit, swirling his tongue around your clit, having to hold back a grin when your eyes screw shut. Watching you fall apart beneath him. He's gentle, flicking his tongue against you, gripping your hands tight in his. He draws one of them back, gathering up the wetness from you and his saliva, pulling away for just a second to rub his finger up against your opening, gathering the wetness on his finger.

You whine out, bucking your hips into him. Clutching a handful of his hair.

He lines his finger up with your entrance, you take a deep breath as he slides it in.

You feel full immediately.

He flicks his tongue slow and steady over your clit, pumping his finger inside of you until he could get you wet enough to handle 2. Once he slides the second finger in, you practically melt beneath him.

You cover your mouth with both of your hands, trying so hard to stay quiet. He wants nothing more than to hear you call out for him. Moan his name. He’d put money on it that ‘John’ would roll perfectly off that sweet tongue of yours.

He starts to flick his tongue a little faster, sucking lightly on your clit when his tongue would get tired and you couldn’t help but buck your hips into him. He tries to hold you steady with his one hand, but you’re struggling. Moaning and whimpering but it’s muffled by your hand. Squirming and bucking your hips into him. At this point, he wonders if you’ve ever even been touched at all. He circles over your clit, the wet sounds he makes is lewd as it fills the room.

“John… I- I’m gonna cum.” You whimper. It’s so low it’s almost inaudible. He almost misses it. But he doesn’t, he pumps his fingers into you, scissoring them and curling them up into you, watching the way your body reacts so perfect to him, flicking his tongue against your clit. It’s so much for you, and finally.

Your hips buck into him, a whimper escapes you as you reach your climax. John keeps flicking his tongue and pumping his fingers to ride out your high until you close your thighs around his head, whimpering as you grasp his hand to keep him still. He smiles up at you, lips and beard glossy with your juices. Your face is flushed, you’ve got love bites all over you Mr skin, artwork. Your hair is a little messy now. He takes a deep breath, sitting up as he palms himself through his jeans.

“You taste fuckin sweet darling.”

Your cheeks burn.

It was intense, but you can’t help but want more.

“We’ll get you used to me. We’ll move slow, yeah?” He nibbles at his lip. You nod your head at him.

“Good girl.” He breathes. “Maybe we should wait to go any further-“ he goes to stand up. You reach out for his hand, stopping him. “Wait-“ You breathe. “I.. I want more.” You bite your lip. He looks confused. “Please-“

He sits down. “You.. you want me to-“ he freezes up. You sit up, taking the lead and pressing your lips to his. You move yourself on top of him, hearing him sigh into your lips. You pull away for just a second to unzip his pants, tugging his cock from his boxers and pulling them through the zipper in his pants. You line him up with your entrance, sinking down onto him. Between his saliva, your arousal, and his fingers stretching you out. You’re ready for him.

His fat tip parts your folds, you shake slightly. He’s big. Stretching you.

You slide down onto him, mewling out as he reaches depths nobody has ever before. Your thighs give out when he bottoms out. “Fuck!” He gasps. He looks between the both of you. Watching you raise yourself up and slide back down onto him. Starting to bounce your hips on him. Riding him.

He hisses out, lifting his shirt up and pulling it over his head. You soak the jeans that wrap around his shaft. Reaching down to unbutton them. You’re whining out. The soreness of losing your virginity has subsided. Now, you just rock into him. He reaches up, taking your nipples between his thumbs and pointer fingers, rolling them between his fingers. You cry out, tipping your head back. Rocking into him back and forth until you can feel something building in your stomach. “John-“ you mewl. Hearing his name come from you in such a filthy way has him desperate. “Can’t take it baby.” He groans. He forces you over, flipping you until he’s on top of you.

He’s rough, the cot creaks beneath you as he fucks you hard. Hips hammering into you as he approaches his high. He’s sweaty and horny. Desperate for his high. You’re tight around him, the sound of him sliding into you eggs him on further. He’s trying hard to keep himself from cumming so soon, but it’s been so long. You pull him into you, kissing him to silence the both of you. He keeps his steady pace, hard, deep thrusts. He pulls away to attack your neck with his mouth. Not caring if he leaves marks on you.

“I’m gonna cum baby.” He gasps.

You look up at him. Moaning out. “Me too.” You breathe. “Cum with me sweetheart.” He breathes. “Look at me.”

He keeps your eye contact, hips moving with yours.

When you reach your climax, feeling him twitch inside of you. It’s pure bliss. Something you’ve never felt.

Something you can already tell you’ll be desperate to feel again.

He whines when he cums, riding out his high and sliding out of you. Moving to lay next to you.

It’s silent aside from the both of you panting. Coming down from your highs.

It’s him who finally breaks the silence. “I’m sorry I’ve been such an ass to you.” He mumbles. “It’s alright.” You giggle. “It’s not. I’ll be nicer I swear.” He laughs. He trails his fingers over your bare stomach. “I hope this isn’t the only time I see you like this.” He mumbles.

“I was hoping for the same thing, Captain.”

[mymarifae]

jade did nothing wrong

oh yeah she only put aventurine in a new, fancier form of slavery, reducing him to a tool. an asset. a pretty little thing to make her richer that she'll cast aside the moment he's no longer useful to her.

and don't give me any crap about how aventurine "wanted" this - he was literally a slave?? his options at this point in his life were EXTREMELY limited and just killing his "master" wouldn't have been enough to secure his freedom. as we saw in this very cutscene, he was about to go on trial for murder. the ipc didn't give a damn that the man he killed was a fucking slave owner; they were still going to punish him to the full extent of the law, so he would have been going to prison for a VERY long time (or for life), or he'd be sentenced to death. playing off the murder in a way that caught their attention and made them consider his... "worth as an asset", so to speak, was his best bet. he'd be freed from his (literal, at least) chains, and he would have the opportunity to earn money and thus survive in this capitalistic intergalactic hellscape the ipc has been building up for centuries.

ah, and while we're here, should we talk about how she tells him here that his birth name is "destined to be buried in the dirt?" after seeing her interactions with topaz, this isn't a stonehearts thing. they don't HAVE to cast off their birth names and embrace the identity of their cornerstone.

i suppose it's only a coincidence that topaz's name is of slavic and greek origin while aventurine's is romani, and this totally doesn't play further into the (not-exactly-the-most-subtle-anymore) subtext of the ipc's chokehold on the entire universe being an allegory for the racist, white supremacist capitalistic systems plaguing the real world today. which, for the record, is an idea that has existed throughout the game's duration thus far and was articulated a little more loudly in the 2.1 update, with the deep dives into aventurine's past and all, and then was really hammered in with boothill's backstory.

(let's set aside the very valid complaints about hoyoverse's allergy to melanin for a moment - we know aventurine and boothill are not white, and the way their home planets were treated in comparison to, say, topaz's, means something.)

and even if you don't want to connect these two very obvious dots and want to pretend the ipc is more of a neutral force (????), let me just point out how fucked it is for jade to sever aventurine's connection to his birth name. one of his last ties to his culture. topaz gets to keep hers, gets to claim both her past and her cornerstone as integral parts of her identity - but aventurine only gets his cornerstone. the ipc encompasses every part of who he is now. i suppose this qualifies as doing nothing wrong too and not as an act of manipulation and cruelty?

(digressing for a moment to point out a positive because honestly this is a heartbreaking thing to say. aventurine's future self calling him Kakavasha suggests that he didn't truly give in to this treatment and instead fiercely clung to every scrap of his past he had left.)

and just. before i move on from aventurine and topaz completely, i guess we can ignore how inappropriately she touched topaz?

"they're both adults" yeah! thank fucking god! but topaz is said over and over to be Very Young for the position she holds. she, much like aventurine, has been working for the ipc since her late teen years. neither of them were promoted to stonehearts - a position that typically requires a loooooooooot of experience over SEVERAL years with the company - right away, remember that. backtracking to this for a moment:

jade is very much a Grown Ass Woman here. while aventurine is probably like, freshly 18. he and topaz are similar in age. jade is definitely more than one decade older than both of them. maybe you don't care about that; maybe you don't care about a senior boss figure taking advantage of what appears to be a puppy crush born from starry-eyed admiration (which is in turn born from topaz literally being indoctrinated when her home planet was "integrated" into the ipc's system) to make topaz more agreeable to whatever she's told to do. and notice how jade dangles the promise of a promotion right after overhearing how difficult topaz's recent demotion has made her life...?

also if you want to argue about me referring to jade as a senior figure that's quite literally what topaz says about her, so...:

but whatever, right? not a thing done wrong here. Nope.

and we can definitely overlook the way she runs bonajade exchange, right? surely it's of no significant note that she shows no mercy in the contracts she writes up. people come in, trade away their most valuable possessions, and almost immediately find themselves in a hard place with no options... except for another visit to bonajade exchange. consequences of their own greed, sure, but i really want to point out how she doesn't try to help. she doesn't try to include a clause or two that may work in their favor if they're clever. she doesn't leave any loopholes. she forces them to be completely dependent on her, and takes, and takes, and takes... to what end? i don't know, and i'm scared to find out.

i'm not saying she has to or should show mercy to the people that visit her pawnshop. i'm fine with a character who just does evil things, and some of her customers probably deserve whatever end waits for them in the jaws of the snake. but if they were going to show that she has a softness about her, a hint of good intentions... this is where they would have done it. the fact that this is completely absent says an awful fucking lot about the kind of person she is, yeah?

and on that note, i'm guessing you want to just ignore how numby is TERRIFIED of her?

because yeah i'm sure that has nothing to do with the very common trope of animals being able to tell when a person is actively malicious and dangerous. everything is fine, isn't it?

[wannaeatramyeon]

Young!Samuel Seo with Young!Reader: Dinner Guest

G/N. Standalone but tied in to Leave Him Be. Next - doctors and patients

Dinner time has changed.

"We're having dinner now?"

"Yes."

You peer at your mom from the doorway with round curious eyes. "Why?"

"It's nice to eat earlier," she explains, spooning freshly cooked rice into bowls.

"Why?"

"It just is."

"Why?"

"Because I said so. Can you please take this out?"

"Why?"

"Y/N!" Your mom scolds. Using your whole name which means there is no room for argument or any more questioning.

You close your mouth quickly.

"Now take this one to Samuel."  You're handed the largest portion, rice shaped into a nice mound over the top of the bowl, "and this one is yours."

Yours is smaller, which is fine by you. Rice is just ok. It's the dishes you really like. Your mom has gone all out today, made your favourites and more. She always seems to do that these days.

Dinner is now at 4:30pm instead of past 7pm. Which is too early by most people's standards, but your young mind doesn't care about most people.

Maybe you would mind more, especially with your stomach rumbling late at night. Except, whenever you pad into the kitchen to look for something to eat, your dad is always there to share a bowl of ramen with you.

"Don't tell mom," he says and your chest puffs as you giggle at the secret between the two of you.

You sometimes wonder if Samuel gets hungry late at night too, if he shares a midnight snack with his dad.

Dinner now interrupts your make believe games with Samuel, though neither of you care. At least Samuel doesn't anymore.

Quiet and headstrong at first, refusing to share a meal with you. Until you asked again and again. The special sort of "why why why" that frustrates your mom and adults and kids alike and he caved.

You like to think you're that convincing (or that annoying). Truth is the food smelt too good, looked too good.

Samuel has been topped up on snacks and potato chips and candy since you befriended him, but he couldn't remember the last time he had a full meal, never mind one home cooked and lovingly prepared by a parental figure.

(He's weak to you and your family's kindness. He doesn't have the walls and defences he would eventually build.)

Dinner now comes with distractions. Your dad brings over the latest delivery of comics for you and Samuel to flip through as you eat. Both shovelling rice and meat and banchan into your mouths with one eye on the page.

You tried that a few times when Samuel wasn't there. Ignoring conversation and questions at breakfast and getting told off by your parents. You cried and wailed yet they didn't give in.

You wish Samuel was around all the time.

Dinner now means shared laughter and banter. Sometimes Samuel snapping at you when you push him too far. Then easing up when you slip him an extra piece of beef or your chicken wing. Talking about anything and everything, in the way children do. Inquisitive and looking at the world with innocent eyes.

Although.

Samuel seems to know a lot more than you. Has a cynicism that seems at odds with his youth. Looks at you sometimes as if you're not the same age and he has been through a lot more.

You don't understand what that means. Not yet.

Most importantly-

(Though the implications don't register for you right now; you will recognise your parent's concern and care years later, understand the sort of childhood Samuel had.)

Dinner now gives enough time for Samuel to eat, and then go home earlier than the first time he spoke to you.

The first time you played together and he overstayed, when his eyes widened with panic and he returned to your family convenience store the next day with a fresh bruise.

You're used to Samuel with bruises. Accepted them as a part of him. Your mom and dad never did.

Your dinner time has changed, and there's now a regular guest.

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

Shall we look at the moon, my little loon

Warnings: mentions of sex, SB bringing home ladies, reader is still pretty young in this part, HL having to educate his sister on what cheating is 🙃, Soldier Boy continues to mentally scar his children lol, mentions of infidelity/cheating

Words: 1314

Summary: While Soldier Boy entertains ladies in his bedroom, Homelander shields you from their moans and takes you outside to look at the night sky.

btw, happy new year guys! :)

🌸Did you get enough love my little dove 🌸Well you do enough talk my little hawk

When Homelander started hearing the moaning coming from the other side of his bedroom wall, he immediately swings his feet out from under his blankets and bolts out of his bedroom and over to your room. Within the next few minutes Homelander knew that the moaning and other noise will just get louder and louder. He had a short amount of time to get you out.

Over his arm is hung a bulky pair of headphones and a warm blanket.

You stir when you hear your door open, lifting your sleepy head up from the pillow. "What're you doing?"

"Dad has one of his. . . lady friends over. So you know what that means."

All sleep evaporated from you when you register what this entails. "We're gonna go visit the stars!"

He has to stop you in your excitement from running out of your room. "Hold on. Slippers and coat." Homelander forces you back around after he puts the headphones over your small ears.

You follow him out, unaware of the sound of skin smacking against skin that made Homelander's eartips redden from sheer embarrassment. Children shouldn't have to hear that. And damn his enhanced hearing that picked up every sharp note and shrill moan.

Outside was cast in a dark blue tint with just the moon and stars as the only light source. That was one of the good things about living further from most other neighbors. Less light pollution.

The woods in the back of your house was your playground. Countless hours spent out there with Homelander, living in your imagination and being just kids for once instead of weapons of mass destruction. You were free out there. The two of you could be whoever you wanted to. Vogelbaum, Edgar, not even Soldier Boy could follow you out there. Towering trees and scattering bushes was your sanctuary.

In the heart of it stood the little wooden shed you and Homelander had built as a type of playhouse. That was where you stored things that Soldier Boy would otherwise deem as nerd shit or something only pussies would do. Which you never understood what he meant by that and Homelander was never privy to tell you. You didn't need the same mentality that Soldier Boy had. Homelander wanted you to have an open mind. To not become a jaded person like their father.

There were folded blankets stacked off to the side for when you and Homelander have picnics or star gazing nights like this. Hidden between two blankets was the dismantled telescope Homelander had smuggled in as well as a few books on astronomy.

Homelander easily locates the bulky flashlight that they used to read their books late at night. While he's grabbing the books, you gather the blankets and telescope.

Shuffling out with arms full, you ask "Do boyfriend-girlfriends usually have lady friends?"

He frowns, really not wanting to answer. "What are you talking about?"

"Well" you smartly start, as if you knew all about the adult world "Dad is boyfriend-girlfriend with Crimson Countess, right? But then he has over his lady friends. And they make the same noise Crimson Countess ma-"

"Okay, okay. I get it." Hurriedly cutting you off, Homelander decides right there was a good enough spot to settle down in as he drops his books. He doesn't want to look at you as he fidgets around; pulling the telescope from the safety between the blankets. "No. Usually couples only see one another. No one else. It's called cheating when someone isn't loyal to their partner."

A soft breeze rustles the leaves around Homelander's ankles, startling him for a moment. You're seated on the blanket with another wrapped around your body to offer you warmth and watch him. "So dad is cheating on Countess?"

Damn Soldier Boy for making Homelander have to tell you these things that you shouldn't know about. With a meticulous touch, he connects the telescope's sleek metal components, each piece fitting together like a perfect puzzle.

After extending the tripod, Homelander bashfully nods. "Yeah. He cheats on her. . ."

You're quiet, ruminating over what this meant which your brother is grateful for. He hated ruining the tint of your rose colored glasses. If Homelander had it his way, you would always stay sweet and innocent with no bad thoughts in your head.

Adjusting the focus on the eyepiece, Homelander tests it out on the starry spectacle above. "It's all set. Here, look. I think I see the sagittarius constellation. Or. . . maybe its scorpius. . ." He balances the flashlight in the crook of his arm to reference the book he held with his hand.

"Is cheating normal?" Sounding so small in that moment, he turns his attention over to you. Your little brows were scrunched together. Disney princess movies definitely didn't involve this. The prince always got with the princess in the end. They never divulged what happened after the movie was done. Did Prince Charming actually cheat on Cinderella after that beautiful ending?

Firm hands land on your shoulders and looks you square in the eyes, holding it with sincerity. "If a guy ever cheats on you I want you to laser his face off. You want someone who'll be utterly devoted to you."

"Oh, so someone like you?" You instantly come to that conclusion with a bubbly smile. He was the only person to ever display such characteristics in your life. Soldier Boy tend to leave you and Homelander to your own devices many days of the week. In the morning sometimes there'd be signs that he hadn't come home at all. Homelander was all you had.

He wants to agree with you, wants to tell you that you should just stay by his side for the rest of your life. That was his ultimate dream. For the two of you to always be together.

There were always moments in his day when Homelander would be looking at you, the apple of his eye, and remember that once you grow up you may decide that it was time to part from your older brother. Get out from under his protective wing to explore what the world had to offer by yourself.

A day where you would no longer need him.

Out there by yourself there was potential for harm to befall you. Not physical harm, he doubts you'd let anyone lay a hand on you. Emotional harm was what worried Homelander most. If a guy were to break her heart, he'd pulverize them without question.

You were like his bright moon among a never ending void of darkness.

"Yeah. Someone like me." Homelander finally replies, hoping his melancholy didn't surface to his face.

Looking through the telescope, you marvel at the shimmering lights of the stars that hung over you. "Some day I want to try flying all the way up there." Your breath comes out in a small white puff from the cold.

That was something you always said. "I know you will."

Pulling away from the telescope, you have a hopeful smile lighting up your face. "And you'll be there with me, right? I don't want to do it alone."

Before he could reply, a haunting melody emerged—a distant echo that had you forgetting about the telescope and running to Homelander's side.

"What is that?" you whisper into his arm.

Homelander had heard the call before though and simply chuckles at your cute reaction. "That's from a loon."

"A loon?"

"It's a type of bird that sometimes likes to come out at night." Homelander motions for you to be quiet so you could hear the mournful symphony as another loon adds it's voice somewhere in the distance. Each call was a lyrical punctuation.

He lets you marvel in it before the calls died down, returning the forest once more to a still quiet.

I'd go to the moon with you, my little loon.

Thanks for reading!

[marymary-diva17]

The outcast twins (5)

Exiled and disowned was something that was common and unknown in your young life. When you had thought life couldn't get even more harder and heartbreak you had been proven wrong. As now enemies from the past are after you and your family, and now it seems like your family had been broken apart for good. Banished from the place where you were born and made you life for many years. Now it was time to began the new journey and fight in life, in the end will thing still be the same or different.

Jake " so will you all be okay here"

norm " yes will be fine here thanks for staying here to help us get settled"

Jake " anytime buddy"

norm " today didn't go plan as we all thought it will"

Jake " no it didn't"

norm " I'm sorry for what happened Jake you and the kids they are to young for this much pain all together"

Jake " yes I know are you sure you don't want to come with us we can take a few more with us"

norm " I don't know spider still human and he my family I can't just leave him here"

Jake " it okay I understand I will have some words once we get there, I will get on their good side and see if you all can come"

norm " thanks better but please take care of yourself and the kids"Jake had nodded his head the two adults had looked at the three kids, as they looked from where they came. Even the adults were hurting the most from what happened, they all knew this situation will greatly affect three teens.

max " they are so young in life and now what has happened will change them"

Jake " I wish they could stay tense living their old lives in the forest, having a good time but now those times are over they are growing up to fast"

norm " I fear what will happen to them after this all settled their relationship with the other kids, the clan, and everyone else"

max " well with us all here life will move on but slowly but I have a feeling those three and the other children will make us all proud" The three adults had talked a bit more. The group knew after leaving the forest matters will never be the same, as the words that had been spoken by Tsu’tey had greatly affected everyone and the actions of everyone else as well.

The tiro

y/n " we are so far from home now, even do we are near form forest it still not home"

spider " yes we are we have never been this far from home or the clan ... I miss all of them"

lo'ak " I miss neteyam and my sisters it doesn't feel the same without them"

y/n " the ocean not that bad after all but I was hoping everyone will be here with us ... I hope they are all okay after all they said to us"

lo'ak " why do we still care for all of them after what they have done"

y/n " we had been raised right that why we know the great mother has, something planned for us and I can't wait to see what happens"

Jake " hey kids ready to get leaving"

lo'ak " sure dad hey bro we will see you in couple days will you be okay"

spider " I will be good don't worry and we can still call time to time, and hey there has to be someone young here to keep this adults in good health" the three teens had laughed as Jake heard what was said, even he had laughed as well.

y/n " take care spider" you soon hugged spider knowing it will be a long time until, you see him for some time.

spider " you two as well and hey make some new friends so us, if we are going to make a whole new life here"

lo'ak " deal and you do the same for us as well" The group had hugged one last time before the twins left with Jake.

Hours later

Jake " we are here kids look" the twins soon spotted a village coming close, a smile had grown on your face the village looked amazing, and the whole ocean and everything was beautiful. Soon the group had been spotted by a group of navi below them and soon enough a horn had been blown as well.

Jake " don't worry everything will be alright" you and lo'ak nodded your heads to Jake words, soon circling around and soon landing on the sandy ground.

Jake " hello we mean no harm" you and your brother soon follow after Jake as he was walking towards the group of navi that came to see them or greet them.

y/n " ........" the father and twins had stopped walking as the crowd start surrounded them, looking at the new arrivals that just came here. Soon two boys had come towards the front you and lo'ak greet them, and they seem to do the same kinda of.

lo'ak " well it seems like we made a good impression" soon you and lo'ak looked around, but you brother stopped looking as you soon looked where he stare had been placed on. Soon a teenage girl had arrived at the inland on one ocean creatures.

lo'ak " ......"

y/n " I think someone already like our new home" you had giggle getting lo'ak attention.

aonung " they are kinda of weird"

rotxo " look at their baby tails"

tsireya " aonung rotxo be nice"

lo'ak " hey" lo'ak had give the girl a what up head movement which made the girl laugh and giggle, as you shake your head looking around when you felt someone walk around you. Soon enough you had spotted a teen boy looking at you, he seem to be near neteaym age or year younger.

y/n " hello"

???? " hello"

tsireya " Sayoa there you are" the boy had smirked towards you before he walked off to join the girl and other two teen boys.

lo'ak " look like you found something good to" you had once again laugh as you father look back at you two, and smile a bit but soon enough a call had been heard as three creatures fly over you three. the one who was the leader had land first and soon got off the creature's, soon walking back onto the shore.

Jake " tonowari I see you"

tonowari " i see you Jake sully but why have you and two young ones come here" Before your dad could say anything ronal had showed up as well.

Jake " I and my kids along with some friends of ours that stayed a bir from here have come here seeking uturu, the sky people are back and mean to do harm"

ronal " uturu"

Jake " yes please for my kids and others with me please"

tonowari " we have heard about this war and I see that scar, I been told of the rumors of your relationship with olo'eytahn tsutey and neytiri ... it a sad new"

Jake " yes it has become sad news and rest of my family an land stayed behind"

ronal " why if enemies have come back"

Jake " as I and my kids along with everyone else in our group has been exiled and disowned"

ronal " you have children with you"

Jake " yes it seems like exiled and banished but fallen on them as well, for things that have been out of their control" whispers had been heard as the crowd was looking, they all seem to hate the idea of kids being exiled.

ronal " these are just children it seems like they have inherited your blood in them" ronal was looking at your hands and soon at your brother.

ronal " other will say they have demon blood in them"

Jake " yes I was one sky people but u have given up my old body and adapt, we can adapt myself and my kids along with the others"

y/n " we can adapt that is true"

lo'ak " yes"

tonowari " we gave heard about your great tales of becoming toruk makto and warning you had tried to make, that had fallen on death ears ... I hope you can help us when the time comes"

Jake " yes I can" tonowari and ronal had looked at each other and seem to be having a silent conversation, with each other soon enough they came up with a decision.

tonowari " you and your children can stay here we have some emptied homes, but you most learn our ways"

Jake " yes thank you"

tonowari " I wish to hear more about your and your family here, along with the rest of this group"

Jake " yes that can happen"

tonowari " my three sons and daughter will teach your kids the way" tonowari and looked towards the group of teens from earlier.

aonung " father why ...."

tonowari " it been decided my brothers and sister we will welcome Jake and his children into our clan, we will help them adapt as they and we might learn something from them as well" it was done the family of three had been given refugee in the clan, and it seems like they had been welcome so far.

tsireya " here let me help you move you stuff into you new home and show you around"

sayoa " I will help as well sister"

rotxo " don't forget us as well"

Jake " thank you" the family had been take to their new home.

tisreya " this is your new home we will let you all get unpacked and settled we will start lessons tomorrow"

y/n " thank you" the teens soon left after they place the stuff into the home, soon the family of three had gotten everything set up for their new home. Once everything was up it was night time, loak had went together some fire wood that will be used for cooking and heat. While you helped Jake make dinner.

Jake “ you are a brave girl”

y/n “ how I’m brave girl day I was not able to defend our home, and now we lost the one place we love so much”

Jake “ you are brave for being here my dear and always making sure I and your brother are okay, and being there for everyone else speak up as well”

y/n “ dad you will always be the mighty toruk makto to me” Jake had smiled soon kissing your forehead, making you smile as you finished helping make dinner. Loak had came back and started a fire for cooking. The tiro had ate dinner this was not their first time having dinner, as a family of three but this time time it hurts more then usual as you all were no longer at home but in a new place that was the unknown.

Jake “ calling to home is anyone there” Jake was trying to call home tree with the help of max, and others to see how the children back there were doing. Nothing was working call signs that had been made between families didn’t work and either did the children.

Jake “ I understand where you all are coming from and I’m sorry, I hope one day we can meet again but I understand if you wish to never see us again… but know we will do everything to defend our …. Your home if you ever need help just call” Jake soon ended the call and the signal as well had been destroyed. Jake looked at twins loak was showing no emotions,but you were crying. Jake and loak soon hugged you the hopes of everything going back to normal, was becoming a dream to you maybe one day you will see the forests once again if you kept on dreaming and believe maybe some parts of life will be the same again or changed forever.