#i needed to (have a life) as dumb as that sounds

[zhelin-thames]

The night was calm—eerily so, by Amity Park’s usual standards. Danny Fenton, better known to the ghostly underworld as Danny Phantom, leaned against the brick wall of an alley, munching on a cold burger. His patrol had been uneventful for once, and he was planning to call it a night when the sound of footsteps echoed down the street.

Danny didn’t need ghost sense to know someone was watching him. The footsteps were light, precise, and purposeful—not the aimless shuffling of a drunk or the hesitant steps of a passerby. Whoever it was, they were skilled. His eyes flicked toward the shadows, but he kept his posture casual.

And then the kid stepped into the light.

“Train me,” the boy said, his voice even and steady, though his face betrayed a hint of nervousness.

Danny blinked at him. He couldn’t have been more than sixteen, dressed in black from head to toe with a hood shadowing most of his face. But it wasn’t just his age that gave Danny pause. It was the look in his eyes—sharp, cold, and determined. This kid was on a mission.

“No,” Danny replied flatly, taking another bite of his burger. He’d seen this kind of determination before—he’d been this kind of determination before—and he wasn’t about to let this kid follow in his footsteps. The vigilante life wasn’t just dangerous; it was a one-way ticket to pain, loss, and an early grave. Danny had survived by the skin of his teeth, but he wasn’t about to play Russian roulette with someone else’s life.

The kid didn’t flinch. “Train me.”

Danny sighed. “No.”

He turned and began walking away, hoping the kid would get the hint, but of course, he didn’t. The boy followed him like a shadow, his footsteps silent but deliberate.

“Train me.”

Danny stopped and turned to face him. “You’re really not gonna let this go, are you?”

The kid shook his head. Danny could respect that kind of persistence, even if it was annoying. Still, there was no way he was getting roped into this.

“Look, kid, I don’t know who you are or what you think you’re doing, but trust me, you don’t want this life.”

“Yes, I do,” the boy said firmly. “I’ve trained for years. I know what I’m doing.”

“Yeah?” Danny raised an eyebrow. “And what’s your plan when things go sideways? When you’re outnumbered, outgunned, and one mistake away from getting yourself killed? You think martial arts and stubbornness are gonna save you?”

The boy didn’t answer, but his jaw tightened, and Danny could see the frustration simmering beneath the surface. He sighed again, running a hand through his hair.

“Fine,” he said, crossing his arms. “But we’re doing it my way, got it? First rule: what’s your name?”

The boy straightened, his back rigid with pride. “I am Bruce Wayne.”

Danny froze. Wayne. As in the Wayne family. The rich, fancy folks who owned half the buildings in Gotham. He stared at the kid, suddenly understanding why he was so serious—and why he’d probably been trained in martial arts since he could walk.

“Alright, rule number one,” Danny said, recovering quickly. “When you’re in your vigilante identity, you don’t give people your real name. You need to keep your identities separate. Got it?”

Bruce frowned, clearly not understanding the importance of this, but he nodded.

“Good. Now again—what’s your name?”

The boy hesitated, his brows furrowing as he considered the question. Finally, he squared his shoulders and said, “Batman.”

Danny blinked. Then he blinked again. The kid’s tone was serious—so serious that Danny might have actually been intimidated if not for the fact that his voice cracked halfway through the word.

Danny bit his lip, struggling to hold back a laugh. “Alright, Batsy,” he said, the nickname slipping out before he could stop himself. “Rule number two: no vigilante-ing until you’re twenty. Teenage vigilantes get killed. They make dumb mistakes, and trust me, I know. I was a teenage vigilante, and let me tell you, it’s not worth the risk.”

Bruce’s eyes narrowed. “What? No! I need to protect Gotham. I can’t wait four more years to do that!”

It was the first time Danny had heard any real emotion in his voice. The boy’s face softened, just for a moment, and Danny could see the weight of the world pressing down on his narrow shoulders. He wanted to argue, to convince Danny that he was ready, but Danny shook his head.

“Nope,” he said firmly. “You wait until you’re out of the ‘teen’ range, or I don’t train you. End of discussion. And rule number three, which is kind of an extension of rule number one: don’t give out personal information in your vigilante identity. I know you’re sixteen now, and I wasn’t even trying to get that info out of you.”

Bruce’s lips pressed into a thin line, and a low growl escaped his throat. Danny couldn’t help but think he sounded like a cranky puppy.

“Fine,” Bruce muttered, clearly realizing he wasn’t going to win this argument. But Danny could tell he was already filing everything away, committing the rules to memory. The kid was smart, no doubt about that.

“Good,” Danny said with a grin. “Training starts tomorrow, Baby Bat. Meet me at Nasty Burger. Civvies only.”

Years later, Bruce Wayne stood in the Batcave, his head pounding as he argued with a pint-sized acrobat perched on the Batcomputer.

Bruce opened his mouth to argue, but Danny was already walking away, his laughter echoing down the alley.

“Dick,” Bruce said, his voice low and measured, “you’re not going out there. You’re nine. You wait until you’re twenty, and that’s final.”

Dick Grayson crossed his arms, his small face twisted into a defiant scowl. “But you didn’t wait until you were twenty!”

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose. “That’s different.”

“No, it’s not!”

Bruce groaned. He was starting to understand how Danny must have felt all those years ago.

Meanwhile, in Amity Park, Danny Fenton paused mid-bite of his burger. A strange sensation washed over him—a tingling at the back of his mind that he hadn’t felt in years.

“I don’t know where or why,” Danny muttered, narrowing his eyes at the distance, “but I just know Baby Bat is doing something dumb again. And I don’t like it.”

It had been years since Danny Fenton had reluctantly taken on a certain sixteen-year-old Bruce Wayne as a trainee. The so-called Baby Bat had been stubborn, determined, and relentless in his pursuit of justice—even if Danny had been equally stubborn in making sure the kid didn’t get himself killed before he turned twenty.

Now, years later, Bruce Wayne had turned into Batman—the Batman. The name was spoken in hushed tones across the criminal underworld and was plastered on the news every other week. Danny couldn’t help but feel proud… and maybe a little exasperated.

He’d done his job. Bruce was alive, competent, and running Gotham like a pro. Danny had thought his days of worrying about Baby Bat were long behind him.

But that thought was obliterated the moment Bruce reached out through a very specific secure channel.

Danny leaned back on the couch in his apartment, half-listening to an old horror movie playing in the background while munching on chips. His ghostly senses were quiet, and for once, life was calm.

That’s when the Bat-symbol flashed on his computer screen.

He groaned loudly, almost spilling his chips. “I knew it. I freaking knew it. I should’ve ignored this brat the first time he said ‘Train me.’”

Reluctantly, Danny got up and opened the line. The face staring back at him was unmistakable—Bruce Wayne, older now, with sharper angles and a jawline that could probably cut glass. Despite the years, Danny immediately recognized the faint glint of determination (and maybe stubbornness) in his eyes. Some things never changed.

“Bruce,” Danny drawled, leaning against his desk. “What do you want now? Did you break something? Or someone? Or are you just here to tell me about how Gotham still sucks?”

“Danny,” Bruce said, his voice as grave as ever. “I need your help.”

Danny squinted at him, skeptical. “Help? With what? You’re literally Batman now. What could you possibly need from me?”

Bruce hesitated for a moment, and Danny almost laughed. He’s nervous. What the hell is going on?

Finally, Bruce spoke. “It’s my family.”

Danny blinked. “Your… family?”

“They’re... difficult,” Bruce admitted begrudgingly, and Danny couldn’t stop himself from laughing. He laughed so hard he had to clutch his sides, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.

“You? You, the most difficult person I’ve ever met, are complaining about difficult family members?” Danny wheezed. “Oh, this is rich.”

Bruce didn’t look amused. “Danny.”

“Alright, alright,” Danny said, wiping his eyes. “What’s the deal? You’ve got Alfred, right? Let him handle it.”

“This is different,” Bruce said, and Danny could hear the faintest edge of discomfort in his voice. “You’ll see when you get here.”

And with that, the line cut out.

Danny stared at the blank screen for a moment before sighing. “I swear, if he’s gotten himself in over his head again…”

Danny arrived at Wayne Manor via ghost portal the next evening, stepping out of the swirling green vortex in his Phantom form. The grandeur of the place hit him immediately—it was just as ridiculous as he remembered.

He floated down into the Batcave, landing silently behind Bruce, who was reviewing a crime map on the massive Batcomputer.

“Alright, Batsy,” Danny said, his voice echoing in the cave. “What’s the big deal?”

Bruce didn’t even turn. “They’re here.”

Danny was about to ask who when he heard a series of rapid footsteps and loud voices approaching from the tunnels.

“—I told you to stop touching my stuff, Todd!”

“Like I care, Drake!”

“You’re both insufferable,” another voice cut in, colder and sharper.

“Guys, please!” someone else chimed in, clearly exasperated.

And then they were there—a collection of teenagers and young adults, each looking like they belonged in their own action movie.

Danny blinked. “Bruce,” he said slowly, turning to face him. “Why do you have an army of kids?”

Bruce sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose as his children assembled in front of Danny.

“Danny, meet my… family.”

The first to step forward was the oldest—a grinning man in his twenties with an acrobat’s grace and bright, mischievous blue eyes. “Dick Grayson,” he said, holding out a hand. “Nice to meet you.”

Danny shook it, eyeing him warily. “The original Robin, huh? Bruce talks about you sometimes. Says you’re the ‘good one.’”

Dick smirked. “Good to know I’m still the favorite.”

“Only because you don’t give me headaches,” Bruce muttered.

The next kid to step forward was a young man with a white streak in his dark hair, a leather jacket, and an air of barely-restrained chaos. He didn’t offer a handshake.

“Jason Todd,” he said, his voice rough. “And you’re the guy who taught Bruce how to nag, huh?”

Danny snorted. “And you’re the one who probably causes most of his headaches.”

Jason smirked. “Damn right.”

The third was a lanky teen with sharp eyes and a smartphone glued to his hand. “Tim Drake,” he said, not looking up from the screen.

“You’re the tech guy, I’m guessing?” Danny said.

Tim nodded distractedly. “You could say that.”

Next was a young boy, no older than ten, with a scowl that could probably scare grown men. He crossed his arms and glared at Danny.

“Damian Wayne,” he said. “Biological son.”

Danny raised an eyebrow. “Ah, the little terror Bruce never shut up about.”

Damian bristled. “I am no terror—”

“Yes, you are,” everyone said in unison.

Danny turned to Bruce, his arms crossed. “So… what do you need my help with? Because it looks like you’ve got your hands full.”

Bruce sighed heavily. “They don’t listen to me. Half the time, they’re arguing. The other half, they’re trying to outsmart each other—or me.”

“And?” Danny prompted.

“And,” Bruce said reluctantly, “I thought you could help… mediate.”

Danny blinked. Then he started laughing again. “You want me to babysit your army of vigilantes?”

“It’s not babysitting,” Bruce growled.

But it absolutely was.

Over the next few days, Danny found himself in the middle of Bat-family antics. Whether it was Jason and Tim bickering over whose tech was better, Dick trying to wrangle everyone for a “team-building exercise,” or Damian threatening to fight literally everyone, Danny was beginning to realize why Bruce looked so perpetually exhausted.

But for all the chaos, there was a sense of family here that Danny couldn’t help but admire. It reminded him of his own ragtag group back in Amity—Sam, Tucker, Jazz, even Vlad in a weird way.

Eventually, Danny pulled Bruce aside. “You know,” he said, “for all your complaining, you’ve built something pretty amazing here. They’re not just your team—they’re your family.”

Bruce looked at his kids, a rare flicker of softness crossing his face. “I know,” he said quietly.

Danny grinned. “Well, you’re still a pain in the ass, but I think you’ve done alright, Batsy.”

And so, Danny’s unexpected reunion with Bruce turned into a week-long crash course in dealing with the next generation of vigilantes. By the time he left, he was exhausted—but also a little proud.

As he stepped back through his portal, he shook his head with a smile.

“Baby Bat really did grow up, huh?”

Somewhere in the Batcave, Bruce smirked.

[prof-peach]

Ok. Weird ask. But I think you all would be best to ask.

My two oldest Mons are my Venusaur Turnip and my Butterfree Keet both’re male and this will be relevant later. I’m older now and retired from adventuring, and I noticed that Turnip has started blowing off pollen, and Keet would flap around him doing an elaborate dance.

Bow I know my mons well, and I know these’re the mating rituals for both of their species but…. They’re from different egg groups! I know mons can be gay, hell I am. But is it normal for some Pokémon to mate outside of their egg group?

I mean, if theyre into each other, not like anything can come of it? Each butterfree will have a unique mating dance, so maybe that is the case, and if they seem to be trying to reproduce, perhaps its a good opportunity to take in some abandoned eggs, every single daycare I can think of will have some just in incubators, left by trainers and the pokemon. Maybe discuss with them taking on an egg? They might want to, or not. You know your pokemon, if you think this is whats going on, then encourage, support, yadda-yadda, you know, the whole thing we do for loved ones. Doesnt exactly hurt anyone, in fact its kind of sweet and could help some random left over egg.

Attraction is attraction, but this behaviour is also quite normal even without that subject in the mix. The two species do tend to work in tandem wild to encourage each other. That theyre old friends may be an attraction, or in nature this is how these two species help each other.

A butterfree wafting around that pollen will spread it further, and that pollen can mix with some actual plants and encourage certain species to seed, spread, and bloom. More blooms, more food for butterfree. They are a vital part of the ecosystem, and pollinators, though they are usually too big for most flowers, so they use their wings and spread the pollen that way. Now im not saying they both aint a little fruity, hell, arent we all? But the behaviour is from what I can gather from how youre talking about it, normal even in nature with regards to encouraging healthy foodchains. We see it often enough.

Sexuality aside, pokemon often help each other outside of species and egg groups, because a healthy group of one pokemon will encourage other things to move along at the right rate in the environment. To be 100% sure i'd have to see it, but sounds like nothing you need to worry about. Crossing egg groups can't result in anything typically, without heavy engineering, or some weird random stroke of dumb luck. I'd not stress yourself over it, and simply see if thats what theyre doing, and if you can help them live their life now youre all retired from the adventures. Maybe its time for their next chapter and some young blood running around causing chaos for you all.

[metyouinthehallway]

𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫!𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

Warnings: smut but I think that’s it?

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

જ⁀➴ Bartender!chris who… makes sure you get home safe.

“Text me when you get home, m’kay?” He pulls you in for a hug, placing a chaste kiss to your hair. He knows damn well that a plethora of disgusting men walk in and out of those club doors every night. Some of them being much worse than others. Chris will wait all night long until he gets that ‘home safe’ text from you.

જ⁀➴ Bartender!chris who… will always have your dirty martini ready.

He knows that you love those martinis, each shift he works with you, he shows up just a few minutes early so he can make you that cocktail.

“Ready for a good shift?” He asks, handing you the glass. A small grin plastered on his lips. He knows those martinis are the highlight of your shift.

“So very ready.” you smile at Chris, biting the olive off of the toothpick. You glass sits behind the bar until you finish it through out your shift. Chris intently keeping an eye on it to ensure no customers try to slip something in your glass.

જ⁀➴ Bartender!chris who… takes you on dates but never makes you pay.

Whether it be a long drive or a simple dinner, Chris loves to spend time with you. The more you got to know each other during work, the more he realized he liked you. When he finally grew the balls to ask you out, the first place he took you was a local diner.

Chris opens the diner door for you, noticing your casual outfit, he’d rarely ever seen you outside of your theatrical and intricate lingerie. Seeing you in jeans and a t-shirt was refreshing, reminding him that you weren’t just your occupation.

Throughout the date, he’d ask you about your life outside of work, your hobbies, your interests. Even your family. Never once flipping the conversation on himself, he wants to know everything there is to know about you.

“What’re you doing?” He asks, seeing you reach for your wallet.

“I’m paying for my food…?” You look at him as if he should’ve known that but oh, silly you! There’s no way in hell he’s letting you pay for yourself.

“Put it away, pretty girl.” Chris chirps, placing his own card on the table.

જ⁀➴ Bartender!chris who… loves when you’re on top.

“O-oh…fuck.” Chris groans, letting his head fall back against the pillow. His fingers digging into your hips as you rock back and forth on his dick.

“Just like that…shit- pretty girl…” he struggles to form a complete sentence, the feeling of your walls squeezing around his cock is pure bliss to him.

Chris stares in awe as your tits bounce in front of his eyes, he’d take this over doggy any day.

જ⁀➴ Bartender!chris who… doesn’t admit your dating but sure does act like it.

“So… we’re together?” You giggle into his chest. The two of you lay in his bed, snuggled up against each other.

“How many times you gonna ask me that?” He snickers, despite his words, he pulls you impossibly closer to his body, running a hand up and down your arm.

“Until you admit it.” You mutter into his bare chest. You don’t just cuddle skin to skin with your coworkers…

જ⁀➴ Bartender!chris who… can’t control himself.

The club had closed an hour ago and he couldn’t stop staring at you the entire night. The specific outfit you wore tonight was a lace bodysuit, it hugged your figure in all the right places and Chris was looking forward to fucking you in his car later tonight.

“Chris! S-shit…!” You squeal, his hips jackhammering into your pussy at an alarming rate. He looks down at where you’re connected, the base of his cock covered in a ring of white from your previous orgasm.

“Fuck, feel you squeezin’ me so good…” he grunts, his thumb rubbing vigorous circles on your clit in the backseat of his car. The bartender didn’t slow his pace once. He needed to see you fucked dumb on his cock.

“Can’t… Oh! Oh, my god!” Your nails claw at his shoulder blades, back arching into his chest as you feel his tip hit your cervix. Your sounds only encourage him to quicken his pace, the car shaking violently as he does so.

“Looked so sexy t’night ma- fuck, you feel so good,” Chris praises, burying his head in your neck. “Want me to fill you up?” His breath tickles the skin on your neck when he speaks.

Shit, you loved when he fucked you like this.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

A/n: got a wee bit carried away with the last one I had to stop myself.

[woso-dreamzzz]

New Girlfriend IV

Lucy Bronze x Teen!Reader

Summary: Pokémon card trade night

"Don't," Lucy says as Ona watches her.

"I haven't said anything."

"But you're going to go."

"You're a good mum, Luce," Ona says earnestly," And I know she thinks so too."

"Are you sure you don't want to come with?"

"I just got off a plane. I'll stay here with Narla. Go and bond with your daughter."

"At trade night?" Lucy says in disbelief," And sweaty Pokémon fans? I'll try."

"Yes," Ona laughs," You're a real hero for that."

Lucy shoves on her shoes and coat, leaning up the stairs. "I'm leaving!" She yells," So you're either coming to trade night or I'm going to KFC!"

She waits barely a second before a thump comes from your room, sounding suspiciously like a game controller being flung at a table.

You come sprinting down the stairs, tying the drawstrings of the tracksuits bottoms that you've clearly just shoved on.

"I'm coming! I'm coming! Hi, Ona. I'm coming!"

Ona laughs. "Hi, y/n. Have fun at trade night."

"Mum couldn't convince you to come?"

"I think I'm happy getting over the flight."

"Your loss." You shrug, turning back to Lucy. "So, are we going or not?"

"I hope you're not playing on bringing that mouse with you."

You frown, looking down at the pocket at the very front of your jumper, where Ezio pokes his nose out of.

"I'll..." You laugh nervously. "I'll put him back. Don't leave without me!"

It's not often that you like leaving the house. For school and for Lucy's games and (more frequently now you're back in England) seeing your grandparents.

Most of the time, you don't leave the house because you want to, but rather because you have to.

Except for nights like these, at the local 'nerd shops' as Lucy calls them to trade some Pokémon cards.

"You've got everything?" Lucy checks as she finds a parking space out on the street," You didn't bring all your binders."

"I brought my trade binder and a few of my other sets that I need to fill up."

"Your...trade...binder?"

You roll your eyes, swinging your bag over your shoulder and slamming the car door shut. "Yes, my trade binder. It's got all the cards that are duplicates and I don't mind trading away for other ones."

"I don't get this," Lucy says, hands in her pockets as she walks up to your nerd shop," You don't even play the card game."

"It's not about playing the card game. It's...It's..."

"It's?"

"I just like it, okay? Is that too much to understand?!"

Lucy's teasing smile is wiped off her face. "Hey, no, wait. I'm so-"

"Leave it," You say, shoving past her," I wish Ona were here instead!"

Lucy watches you go in, hand still out and reaching for your shoulder.

People have told her so many times how good she's done at raising you. Your teachers have nothing but glowing remarks. You're smart and studious and you didn't interrupt in class. Perhaps you could talk more but that's not a life ruiner.

Her friends have always said you're polite and you speak well and you don't purposely try to get under their skin. You're nice and you're sweet and you're friendly with everyone.

But Lucy can never fully understand you.

She's always been moving, even as a child. She'd played football for as long as she can remember, always high energy, always going-going-going until she had no more energy to go any longer.

You're not like, not in that way anyway.

You're more reserved and solitary, happy to sit in your room with your gaming consoles and your YouTube videos and your mice.

This card collecting thing had happened when she was still with Keira and away for the weekend. Keira had bought you a pack while at the store and you'd been hooked ever since.

Lucy can't even remember the last time your allowance hadn't been spent on those dumb plastic booster packs. She's never understood it.

Keira used to take the reins on this kind of thing while they were still together so Lucy's way out of her comfort zone when she finally steps inside of the nerd store.

It's more packed than she thought it would be, with people of all ages.

She catches sight of you up ahead. It's hard not to when you're wearing the Assassin's Creed coat she got you for Christmas last year and your binders are kept safe in the Mario Kart backpack you usually use for school.

Lucy fights the crowd to get to you.

"Whoa. Are you Lucy Bronze?"

There's some little kid staring up at her, clutching a binder with wide eyes and their mouth hanging open.

"I am."

"Wow! Can...Can...Mummy! Mummy can you get my Squirtle? I want Lucy Bronze to sign it!" The kid turns back to her. "I don't have my Bronze shirt with me but can you sign one of my cards?"

It's not the weirdest thing Lucy's ever had to sign but it's certainly the weirdest place she'd ever signed anything.

"Sure, kid!"

"Thank you," The mother says as Lucy grabs a pen from a random table. "It means the world to him."

"Mum!"

The pen has just been uncapped when Lucy looks up, stopping everything she's doing to respond to you.

"Yeah, what's up? Are you okay?"

Her eyes rove over you, checking for bumps and bruises but coming up empty.

"You can't sign that!"

"What?"

The little boy's bottom lip wobbles and you nearly push Lucy out of the way to kneel down in front of him.

"You don't want her signing a common card," You tell him," Get her to sign this instead." You produce a card from your trade binder.

It's an illustration rare Squirtle from your Scarlet and Violet 151 set.

The little boy gasps, reaching for the card your offering but his mum stops him.

"This is trade night, Micheal," She reminds him," Give her something in return."

You gave him a grin, sitting cross legged on the floor.

"You got a binder for me to look through?"

The boy nods hurriedly, prying it out of his mother's hands to flip through.

"Which one do you like? Why don't you pick me one out?"

You give the little boy your 151 Squirtle Illustration Rare and he gives you a Paldean Fates common Fidough.

Lucy signs the new Squirtle card with a little frown, waving as the boy and his mother head off.

"Why'd you do that?" She asks, arms over your shoulder so you can't escape again.

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"I'm not stupid," Lucy says," I know that was a rarer card. I know you've already got like twelve of the card you got in return. Why'd you do it?"

You shrug. "I don't know. It made him happy. Does it really matter?"

"Yeah but..."

Lucy goes quiet, glancing back at that little boy.

She made him happy by signing his card. You made him happy by giving him one.

You've never asked her why she signs people's jerseys.

Lucy glances back over at you as you trade away cards for new ones and open packs amongst people that are just like you.

Her hand itches to open one with you but it's just a twitch in her fingers. She keeps it by her side though, refusing to interrupt this safe space you've built for yourself.

The staff here know you by name and Lucy doesn't want to ruin that for you.

So, she stays in the background, looking through the shelves and through the bulk items and holding some of your half finished binders of sets that you're yet to complete.

"You looking for anything specific?" One of the staff members asks, leaning against the table as Lucy looks up like she's just been delivered a fairly painful electric shock.

"No!" She says hurriedly, hoping to fade into the background like she's been doing for most of this evening. "No, I mean...er...My kid...?"

The woman laughs. "I get it. First trade night? Kid's excited? You have no idea what's going on?"

"Something like that," Lucy says," My-My ex-partner used to take her to these and my new one's waiting at home for us and I-" She sighs. "I have no idea what I'm doing."

"I get it. First time for anything. So, you looking for yourself or for your kid?"

"For her," Lucy says," I don't know. I'm just looking."

"Well," The woman replies," I'm happy to help any parent out of their depth. Any specific sets or Pokémon?"

Lucy tries to rack her brain for anything you've mentioned specifically before, coming up short for a little while before:

"Eevee?" She asks cautiously," No, not Eevee. The evil Eevee? You know, the black one with the ears and the rings?"

"Umbreon?"

"Yeah, that! She's trying to collect all of them."

"Ah, now that I can help with."

Lucy's hands shake as she approaches you.

You've found a little corner to sort through all your new cards, slipping some of them into binders waiting for only a scant few more.

"Hey," Lucy says, uncharacteristically nervous as you look up at her.

"Hey?"

"I...er..." She clears her throat. "I got you a gift. A few gifts, I guess."

She places her offerings in front of you and you shuffle through them, eyes getting wider and wider.

"You got me a Moonbreon?!"

Lucy finally makes eye contact, alarmed. "No?! I promise I told the girl Umbreon! I'll get you a new one. Crap. I didn't mean to make a mista-"

You crash into her, arms curling around her as she cautiously puts her arms around you as well.

"It's the nickname of the card, Mum," You say," I've been looking for one for ages. It must have been expensive. Thank you."

"Of course, pumpkin," Lucy says," Of course."

You look up at her, searching for something that Lucy hopes she's showing in her eyes.

"Do you...Do you want to open some packs with me?" You look hopeful and Lucy's throat goes dry as she nods.

It's late when you finally look to be winding down and people finally start looking like they're leaving the store.

You snag Lucy's sleeve.

"I..Can you open these for me?"

You hand over two packs.

One's in English.

One's in Japanese.

Lucy frowns.

"These look...old..."

"They are," You admit," It's the base set. Like, first edition."

"These must have been expensive."

You bite at your lip. "I traded away my completed Brilliant Stars set. These are probably worth more but I think the guy who had them just wanted them gone. I..I can't open them myself. Can you?"

"I can. Don't worry."

Lucy fights to keep her hands from shaking as she tears open the packets.

She swipes through each card. They're completely meaningless to her but you freeze.

"Is this good? Godzilla?"

"Charizard."

"Huh?"

"Godzilla's a movie franchise, Mum. That's Charizard."

"Oh, is it?"

You shakily offer her your Japanese packet. "Mum, here."

The second Charizard is in your hand a moment later.

"Whoa!" Lucy laughs," What's with all the hugging today, huh?"

"You're the best," You tell her earnestly," I don't tell you enough but you're the best, Mum."

Lucy smiles at you, kissing the top of your head. "Just want to make you happy."

[pickyourpoisonandevolve]

Boyfriends to Have Boyfriends Headcanons, pt 4

I cannot stress enough how these are FLYING from my brain into a post. A brief thanks to everyone who’s said something sweet about this so far, I deeply appreciate you and your interest in what has to be my mental illness at this point.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

—-

It’s maybe one of the few times in your life you wished you were deployed. Leave is a siren song for fools, you thought. No one was meant to have this much time sitting in their dumb flat thinking about how they were fucking their Captain AND fellow sergeant. You were going to get discharged for sure. Dishonorable with a capital D. They were going to be mad at you for fucking your way through the team. Johnny would literally explode. But Price said that he KNEW—

A buzz. A text. Thinking too loud yet again.

Gaz: You doing anything today? Running errands near your part of town. Wanna come with?

In for a penny, right?

—-

You let him talk you into a wash day. A small luxury you two were able to afford yourselves as the two BIPOC members of the team. He even managed to talk you into going back to his (stupid face he makes where he tilts his head and smiles at you, can barely look at it, the bastard) Now you were sitting at his beautiful kitchen table, watching awful tv on low, with him on the floor between your legs as you rubbed scalp oil into his. You’d buy a timeshare in the 8th circle of hell if he sold it to you at this point.

“Call it nostalgia, I guess. My sisters used to do this for me back in the day. I miss it.”

“Those helmets aren’t doing any favors for anyone. Have you seen John and Simon’s crown lately? And how they both insist—“

“It isn’t thinning?” You both say in unison, laughter tearing through you both. His hand sneaks around to caress your calf, while your nails lightly scratch his scalp as you catch your respective breath.

“Hey. I, uh, wanted to—“

“Up, it’s your turn.”

“Wait, I wan—

Gaz pops up and takes you gently in his hands, leading you to the ground as he sits in the chair, hands already oiled and ready. You sat in a huff. He couldn’t say he regretted seeing you pout. The unease and frustration already settled in your stomach now had a new player enter the fold: Gaz’s fingers gently massaging your scalp. A short but hard fought battle internally, he felt your pulse slow, your body relax between his legs. That makes one of us, he thought passively.

“I know we didn’t make this easy for you. And I’m sorry. I don’t want to speak on behalf of John too much, but we’re not the most. Subtle men. You could say.”

You let out a small sound of agreement. “How long, uh. I guess how long has this been happening?”

“Couple years after I joined the force. Around the same time Simon and Johnny started I reckon.”

“Man, I should have been drafted sooner, I’d have a boss all to myself to fuck too—“

You felt his fingers tighten gently, just enough to pull your head back and give you a stern look. You gave him a meek smile as an apology, before he returned to his ministrations.

“As I was saying. We’re a team. Always have been. We could have made it a big deal, or we could continue to be great at what we do, work together. Price was just… everything I needed. Made me who I am today. Let me become the man I needed to be. No judgement.”

You nodded in his hands. You let your eyes close as he talked, letting his fingers lull you into a state. Aware but relaxed. Malleable, he’d call it. Right where he wanted you.

“But then someone had to come along and ruin it all.” He said with a laugh. “John and I share a lot of traits, and being territorial is one of em. You were so fucking sweet, and talented. Talked about you when we were together. And I just wanted to sink my fucking teeth into you.” He said, an edge in his voice now, nails scraping across your scalp a touch.

A new warmth ran through you as you felt hands pick you up from your seated position. Kyle carried you bridal style to the couch, laying you down in front of his windows in his flat overlooking the city. Your hair, big and wild from his hands, fell around your head like a halo. Fucking so perfect for him all the time. “You almost have her, don’t fuck this up.” He said to himself.

“We want you to be ours. No rank, no file. Just us.” He said, leaning over you, thumb running across your cheek.

Keys in the door started to jingle. A swish of bags and boots hit the floor as they come across the entrance and footsteps approach. “Hey love.”

Your heart stopped. You’re sure of it. Your eyes peeked open as the power of the sun was 5 feet from your face. Two of the hottest guys you’ve ever met standing above you as they ask you to be… a part of them. A piece to complete the puzzle. To make them feel a little more complete.

Your eyes become a little less lovedrunk, a little more sober and panic shoots through both of them for a moment. Your eyebrows scrunched, a sign they’ve come to learn means that you were unsure of the outcome. The thunder before the storm of “what if’s” cloud your mind. John reached down to pull you in a seated position, pressing his forehead against yours. “You could put a bullet in my head and I’d thank you for it. You couldn’t fuck this up if you tried.” He pulled back a touch to let Kyle in.

“Let us love you, sweetheart. We’ll spend the rest of our lives making sure you feel like you’re enough, yeah?” Kyle asked.

A small smile graced your lips, as you brought a hand to both their faces. “Yeah. We’re a team.”

[be-xkyy]

Yandere Brother-in-law

Warning: Smut, infidelity to a third party, violence, pregnancy, mentions of murder, feelings of guilt, children mentioned.

Yandere brother-in-law who has known you since you, him, and his younger brother (by two years) were teenagers (he hates his brother since everyone preferred him for being a "good boy")

Yandere brother-in-law who was (is) in love with you since you were teenagers as was his brother (but he thinks he has more right to you since he met you first)

Yandere brother-in-law who was in a relationship with you in his youth (friends with benefits) he thought you two would end up getting married someday (that didn't happen).

Yandere brother-in-law who was shocked when one day his brother brought you home hand in hand and announced that you were dating and planning to get married when his brother finished college.

Yandere brother-in-law who took advantage of the moment when you apologized and went to the bathroom and followed you and abruptly entered the bathroom ignoring your surprised look and your complaints that it was inappropriate and that he should get out of the bathroom.

Yandere brother-in-law who grabs you tightly by the arms and asks you furiously "What the fuck are you doing?! What the fuck is this about you marrying my fucking brother?! Huh?!" you can see the vein on his forehead throbbing his jaw is clenched tightly, he's really furious.

Yandere brother-in-law who squeezes you even harder (bordering on painful) when you tell him "You and I are too chaotic together, I need someone reliable in my life who's a safe bet for the long term" he ends up fucking you roughly in the bathroom sink when you walk down the stairs your legs are shaking and his warm seed is deep inside you you smile nervously at your boyfriend and his parents.

Yandere brother-in-law who keeps fucking you even after you married his brother, it was inevitable since you couldn't be without each other for too long, he convinced his brother to stay and live at his parents' house and your husband accepted (he's really dumb)

Yandere brother-in-law who even ten years later is still your lover under a tense coexistence in the family home, you have two wonderful children and he is a proud uncle (cough father) who wants to always be with his nephews.

Yandere brother-in-law who uses any opportunity to get intimate and physical with you even going as far as pretending to be sick just to skip work and stay home while your kids go to school and your husband goes to work which always ends up with you and him having sex (especially when he's jealous when he sees you with his brother)

Yandere brother-in-law who can never take you seriously when you tell him your relationship needs to end and what you two are doing is wrong he laughs when you say his brother is a good man and doesn't deserve this and blah blah blah... he really can't take you seriously especially when you're pregnant with another one of his babies and you moan so beautifully beneath him.

Your high pitched moans fill the room along with the wet sound of slapping, he gives you firm thrusts that make you roll your eyes back in your head he has you tight in a mating hold, your legs brushing against your ears as his fat cock hits all of your sweet spots inside your pussy.

Your nails dig into his shoulders leaving half moon marks on the hot skin, you hear his distorted voice but you can't understand what he says too drowned in pleasure. slap. the sudden slap he gives you on the cheek brings you out of your daze an "uh?" escapes your lips and you look at him with cloudy eyes.

He rolls his eyes and lets out a snort while still thrusting into you, he hits your forehead with his finger and asks slowly as if you were too dumb to understand his words "I asked you what the fuck do you mean that you want us to end? Answer me!" you gulp and try to formulate a coherent response although it's difficult when the delicious feeling of his cock going in and out of your pussy makes you dizzy, you barely manage to mumble "Gabriel— i just— i feel bad for my husband— he's so good... and i do this to him— i'm a bad person..."

Gabriel chuckles darkly and pushes your legs lower almost touching the mattress the new position allows more of his cock to slide inside me in every crease and hollow, he takes my chin in his hand and says in a mocking coo "you're not a bad person darling, you're just a cheating whore addicted to her brother-in-law cock, but i like you like that even if you're a slut don't worry" a pitiful whimper escapes my swollen lips at his words your chest burns with shame.

"But I am a bad person and your poor, repentant attitude is starting to tire me out, why don't you just admit that you made a mistake by marrying my stupid brother? Admit that you should have married me" He says with a growl, his sharp eyes stare into mine waiting for an answer and I can't do anything but close my eyes not wanting to answer the obvious.

He frowns at your stubborn refusal, his fingers tighten their grip on your legs and says "You don't want to talk? Fine. I'll make sure that when I'm done with you, you can't talk or think about anything but me."

A few hours later Gabriel looks at your sleeping form, your sweaty body and your thighs stained with a mixture of your juices and his semen, you fell asleep quickly after his assault. His eyes travel to your slightly swollen belly with his son, HIS SON, he reaches out his hand and traces the outline of your stomach then leans down placing a kiss above your navel and murmurs as if it were a secret "Don't worry son dad will fix this shitty situation and take his rightful place, you must be strong because mom will be sad when she finds out about my brother's death, but I will make it up to her... I promise"

[sergle]

yall are about to piss me off by not having any PASSING basic knowledge of the way the u.s. military manipulates its recruits into joining by typing up one of your uninformed, unresearched, unempathetic, individualistic, unbelievably annoying posts about how 100% of the people in the military ended up there because they just Love America So Damn Much! they're extremely mature and informed at time of recruitment, they can totally leave anytime they want, they totally had tons of other avenues in life they could've taken, there was no rush at all to get income as fast as possible, and everyone in the military also totally is part of the combat divisions and personally enjoys being IN the military very much, big believers of violence. everyone in the military is shooting guns all day, that's how that works. they LOVE BLOODSHED. also I love the "amewicans haha" twang to this type of shit because you're actually TOTALLY stealing our Thing, which is turning systemic issues into Individual Issues. Instead of talking about the powers that be, it's so Personal Choice up in here. It's, "well you shouldn't have done it then. I totally wouldn't because I know better." you don't wanna talk about the military industrial complex as a whole, and you don't want to talk about recruiters, you just want to pin the blame on Specific Individual People one-by-one, as if they're responsible for the system that they're being ground up in. someone was in the military? bad person, no matter what. it's easier to believe that, I guess, than to acknowledge that Normal People (with high school educations) are manipulated and incentivized into joining a system that is Bad. at like age 18. but yeah no that 18 year old should have just been smarter lol haha anyway here are some screenshots for no particular reason

side note this reply of someone going "umm just get loans and go into a high paying field it's easy XD" as a direct response to someone trying to explain how most americans joining the military are being funneled in that direction out of a need for money.

and another person who Decided that americans join the military just CLENCHING their teeth thinking of other people, and not thinking completely selfishly about their own selves and their own income/housing/healthcare.

[oifaaa]

For some reason I'm rewatching death note for the first time in like 10 years and it's actually incredible how I forgot that everyone in this show is actually the worst

[feline-evil]

Never gonna be over how unutterably pathetic and in dire need of ANY kind of companionship or friendship that doesn't revolve around their band the entirety of dethklok are. I love these horrible idiots who are so devoid of any real connections outside of themselves that they will latch onto anyone unfortunate enough to get too close to any one of them! And GOD help anyone they latch onto!!

[random-chaos-and-stuff]

Silly Game Time: Who are the protagonists of two stories you really enjoy? (could be from any media: movies, shows, novels, games, comics, etc.) (yes, OCs count) AND which of them is better with animals?

You know what? I’m feeling particularly dragony today, so I’m going with Lady Trent from A Natural History of Dragons, and Princess Cimorene from the Enchanted Forest Chronicles. And though I love Cimorene a lot, and do think she’d be good with animals, Lady Trent wins, as she is a naturalist and has to actively care for and study the dragons she has, as well as the fact that she loved animals when she was younger too, and with all the time she puts into her work I feel like she would have to be good with animals. It’s shown in the books too that she’s overall pretty good with animals, especially the dragons she studies.

[mintytealfox]

You used to teach people how to pan for gold?

I did LOL the very simplified version of it and it was always hot as frick outside so hiding the fool's gold in the cool water down in the sand felt nice LOOOL (until fall would hit then my hands would be FREEZING AH) If I am remembering right we also had this hella creepy display where you would look down the glass window and you would see this miner down there with a canary with him, I can't remember if it slowly moved or not XD but I kind of remember the sound of this motor sound down in the basement where we would have lunch in the room next to him LOOOL we even had a 'prospector pit' for the kiddos and I thought it was lame as hell LOOOOL, but fun for kids, they would 'dig' in these rubber bits to get 'gems' 🙃🤣🤣🤣 The geologist, at the time, would get so excited about his rock and gem collection lol (I remember having to fight off the mean Geese up there, those things were HORRIBLE) (AND DON'T GET ME STARTED ON THE CHICKENS THAT WOULD FIGHT ME ON THE WAY TO THE RESTROOM AAHHH I would have to run for my life through the gardens and slip through the little opening in the fence to ESCAPE LOL)

I also taught mock school at the school house to show people what school life was like in the late 1800s I had to ring the bell every hour! I actually legit hated that cause it was so LOUD when right next to it ah my ears are ringing just thinking about it ah and that heavy as hell mallet 🤣🤣 but it would be a different subject for each hour in the morning and then repeat for the afternoon.

And spinning thread (I was so bad at it oh my gosh) Talking about wool and the dying process 👍

and quilting (so now I know how to hand sew but the sewing machine still makes me scratch my head LOL)

and leather working (I would just talk about the types of leather and the process of tanning, I didn't do it myself that was for the experts. And I would only fill in when they needed an extra pair of hands 👍)

Taught some of the old dances too, but I hardly remember them now though -weeps-

and cooking in the old cast iron wood burning stove (where I got heat exhaustion cause there is a reason they would just cook outside or had a 'summer kitchen' during the summer months oh my GOSH) and I burnt EVERYTHING cause my pyromaniac self would make the fire too HOT LOL There were ladies who made THE BEST food in that thing though! like TOP TEIR BEST EVER! There is something about it that is just AHH SO EXTRA GOOOOD but anyway scraping out the ash afterwards was pretty satisfying and chopping more wood for the next day was liberating after dealing with some of the ANNOYING visitors (It was this dull as hell light little hatchet so it was all brute force and magic (finding where the log will likely split easiest) to pop those suckers in half oh my GOSH) This was also where my SEETHING, LOATHING, HAAATTEEEE for churning butter came from 😤😤 (cleaning that junk with freshly boiled water was the ACTUAL WORST, but at least I was allowed to use dawn dish soap and properly re-clean everything after closing for obvious reasons PFF)

This is only SOME of the stuff I did and had to learn so I could teach and perform LOOOOOL

//at least the laundry was fake but beating the rugs was one of my least favorite things like BRUH now all that GARBAGE DUST Is all over ME NOW AAAAAAA

lol whenever I hear 'oh man living in the 1800s would be fascinating' I say 'NO IT WOULDN'T, IT SUCKS, DON'T' 🤣🤣🤣

and the GHOSTS THERE I SWEAR I WAS ABOUT TO FIGHT SOME SUPERNATURAL RAAAAAAH

[floral-hex]

woke up at 4am feeling the weight of my life crushing me, so I’ve been sitting out in my car for the last couple of hours because I just need. to. be. somewhere else.

[soranker]

What’s the biggest emotional gut punch you’ve ever gotten from a show?

AHH i wish i had a good answer for this but i havent watched a lot of shows lately and im wracking my brain to remember if i had a strong reaction like that to anything i've watched in the past... ive def watched sad stuff that hit me in the heart but not enough to feel like a gut punch......

BAHA ok this gonna sound predictable but fr when i got to the end of volume 10 of trigun maximum i stopped reading for a couple of days LMFAOO T_T maybe even a week. i just reread that same chapter over and over again for a while lol

[non-un-topo]

Genuinely so sad because I wish I could just draw and write again

[itsalwaysdark]

its so embarassing likee. going to talk abt a feeling you have but you already know ppl will be like Oh that sounds like depression lol and its like. well yes . i know . trust me i am so aware i am depressed . but its still like a thing ive been thinking abt and wanting to talk abt but ik itll just be like Ok hun 👍. idk idk what response i would want tho ig FNFNFNF

[johaerys-writes]

It's a "listen to Futile Devices by Sufjan Stevens and cry about disasters!patrochilles" kind of day