#idk though. stay tuned I guess.

[scoliosisgoblin]

doodles, idk

[iistxrmyskyii]

oh okay thanks hunger games simulator!!!!

[starfish-comics]

Fane sure did sit there for days and days struggling and failing to get that dead guy's face off while I left him hanging about joining the party though.

[julymusings]

dark chocolate cherry

i want to bring you flowers from the mountains, bluebells, dark hazels, and rustic baskets of kisses. i want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees.

or; your boyfriend shows up when you just want some alone time [3.2k]

jason todd x fem!reader; reader gets her period and describes painful symptoms; just fluff; jason "words don't come easy so here's acts of service" todd this is earlier in the relationship which is why he's still a little shy but she knows he's red hood? idk man. i was just going with it; can you guess what inspired this? (everything is awful)

The day started at 2 AM when you woke to shooting pains in your abdomen and blood everywhere. It continued until 2:45 while you cleaned yourself, changed clothes, put on a fresh pad, took some painkillers, and changed the sheets. It paused for about an hour until you woke up again at 4:00, courtesy of Gotham’s patented night-life that had taught you to completely tune out the sound of police sirens. Tonight, however, they weren’t tuning out.

The sirens quieted at 4:10, by which angry tears collected in the corners of your eyes as you flopped around in bed in an attempt to get comfortable. No matter what you did, there was always something wrong; the pillow was too hard, the blanket was too scratchy, the position hurt your arm.

From 4:11 to 4:12, you screamed into your pillow.

By 4:15 you had settled in front of the TV with a bowl of dry cereal (it took everything in you not to cry over the lack of milk in your fridge), a heating pad, and your favorite comfort show queued up.

At 8 AM you managed to drag yourself to work, where you half-assed the day’s tasks, took a 15-minute break to cry in your car, then dipped out a half-hour early.

Now, at 5 PM on a Friday evening, you’re curled into the fetal position in front of your TV with your comfort show resumed and your trusty heating pad cranked to the highest setting. Prepared to spend the entire night here, you already changed into pajamas and kept a couple blankets within reach. Your phone buzzes on the coffee table, and you stretch to reach it, careful not to lose your comfortable position or roll off the couch.

Jason About to leave Be there in 20

You groan out loud. You want to throw your phone across the room, but decide against it because no amount of hormones from hell are worth six hundred dollars. You’re still angry, though, for being so stupid as to forget about the date you had planned for tonight. Scrolling up to earlier messages, you see another text from today wishing you a good morning and telling you he was excited to see you tonight. But, too down to bother checking any messages today, you had missed it.

You I can’t tonight anymore I’m sorry I don’t feel great

After hitting send, you place your phone on the ground, not even having the energy to reach for the coffee table again. Or the energy to lift your arm back up, apparently, given how it hangs limply over the edge of the couch. You feel guilty about cancelling, but you are in no state to go out tonight. You’re used to the symptoms of your period hitting so hard. As much as you and Jason care about each other, you’re not sure you’re ready for him to see you like this. You’ve managed to plan your relationship around your hormone cycle so far, but today it came early.

Your phone’s buzzing is muffled by the rug, and you almost don’t hear it. Jason’s photo is displayed on the screen.

Your hanging hand clicks ‘answer’ and puts it on speaker so you can take the call without moving from how you're curled up.

“Is everything okay? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I’m fine, I just don’t feel up for going out tonight. I’d rather stay home.”

“Did something happen?”

“No, I just got my period so I’m not really in the mood.”

“Okay, we can stay in tonight. What do you feel like eating? I can pick something up.”

“No, Jason…I want to stay home alone tonight.”

There’s a beat of silence on the other end of the line.

“Okay…did I do something?” His voice comes out a little smaller.

“No, you’re fine, I promise. I just don’t feel like seeing anyone right now.”

“…Not even me?”

Your hand presses against your temples to soothe the building tension headache. The self-doubt in his tone brings the anguish of the entire day bubbling up your throat. You feel like the worst person in the world. Exactly how you don’t want him to see you.

“Jason…it’s not you. I just…I feel like shit right now, honestly. Everything hurts, I’m miserable and sad and angry at everything, I’m breaking out all over.” You feel yourself welling up at all these little stresses coming out. “I’m craving everything but feel too sick to eat anything…I feel pretty disgusting right now, and frankly, I don’t want you to see me like this.” You finish your rant with a sniffle. You wipe your nose, trying to hold back the sob that’s threatening to break through. But at his silence, your worst, most improbable fears claw their way to the surface: he hates you now. You scared him away. You exhale heavily into your sleeve as more tears spill.

The phone is quiet for a long moment.  Then; “I could never find you disgusting,” he says, gently. “But if that’s what you want, then we’ll reschedule.”

“Thank you. And sorry.”

He speaks with a tone you can’t quite parse. “Don’t apologize. Just feel better.”

-

-

-

It’s one hour after your phone call, and at the first knock, you know who it is. Who else could it be? With that soft, somewhat hesitant, one-knuckle rap on the door. Only one person knocks on your door like that.

“Jason, I told you not to come here,” you say a little more cutting than you intend to, but your back and shoulders feel like they’re about to snap under a phantom pressure and the frustration of your request being outright ignored leaves a burning bitterness that channels itself into a violent wrenching open of the door.

He jumps a little at the abruptness of your greeting. One look at your face and he visibly deflates.

“I’m sorry…I know you said not to come, but…” his gaze casts downward to his hands. You follow; he’s clutching a reusable grocery bag. Peeking out of the top is a gallon of Neapolitan ice cream. The ice cream carton’s condensation seeped through a small patch of the cloth bag and dripped onto the other items; a bushel of greens, among some other fruits and vegetables, as well as a parcel of brown paper that was fastened closed with a twine string. You return your gaze to his face.

“I think—” he cuts himself off, free hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. Then he drops his hand and sighs. “I’m sorry. This was a bad idea. You told me not to come here and I ignored you, but I thought…” he trails off, probably hoping you’ll say something so he can gauge your reaction.

You just stare at him.

He shifts his weight back and forth. His hand twitches.

“Okay, yeah, I’ll—”

Then, you burst into tears.

Jason’s eyes widen. He reaches out to touch you, then stops himself. “Oh, fuck, I’m sorry! I’m sorry, this was stupid. Please stop crying, I’m so sorry—” He’s panicked, trying to calm you down with apologies and soothing assurances that he will leave immediately and never go against your wishes again. All the while you stand in the doorway, blubbering like a toddler with a skinned knee, new tears forming faster than you can wipe the old ones away.

He once again raises a hand towards you, before it stutters, then clenches into a fist as if it takes all his strength to fight against the instinct to be close to you, fighting against the string that tethers him to you. He drags his hand down his face, then it falls back to his side.

“Okay, I—I’m leaving now. I’m leaving. Do you…want this?” He holds the bag out to you.

With it now in front of you, its further contents are visible. You manage to tamp down your tears enough to get a few words out.

“Did you—hic—buy me groceries?”

“Yeah…” There’s a wince in his tone, as if he’s only now realizing that his gesture is not translating as he intended.

You look back up at him with pursed lips and knitted brows, sniffling. Sure, the ice cream you can understand, but…you have no idea what to make of the rest.

The bag drops back to his side. “I figured…it’s just— it’s the stuff that you’re supposed to—” He strokes his palm over his mouth, eyes screwing shut for a moment. He huffs at himself, then continues. “I mean I’m sure you already know all of this, so maybe you already have all these things, and now I’m realizing how unnecessary all this was, and I shouldn’t have assumed—”

“Jason,” you say. Your upset has since been overshadowed by something else, though you can’t tell what it is. And your crying has stopped, but its lingering effects have you feeling congested and a little foggy. You’re half expecting this to be a fever dream that you’re moments away from waking up from in a cold sweat.

“—because obviously you know what helps you feel better much more than I do—”

“Jason.”

“And you— yeah?” His eyes are a little harried when they find yours again. But off your tired and still-confused look, he gets the message and collects himself.

“Right, yeah, I just thought that…maybe I could bring you some of the stuff with all those minerals that are supposed to help women when they’re…menstruating.” He briefly breaks eye contact at the end of his sentence, red rouge creeping up his neck.

You can’t help it; you start to giggle. You can’t remember the last time you heard a man use the term ‘menstruating’ in a non-medical context. And the fact that he’s so shy about it— upset as you may be (though not at him), there’s no denying how adorable your boyfriend is. His head shoots back to you as your laughter intensifies. He blushes harder.

“It’s not that funny,” he mutters.

You step away from the door, finally closing the space between you, and wrap your arms around his torso. Your head nestles into his chest. He gently drops the grocery bag on the ground and reciprocates your hug. He rests his chin on your head, which fits perfectly under his. Like two puzzle pieces clicking into place. You breathe him in.

“Sorry I’m such a mess,” you murmur into his shirt.

He breathes into your hair. “You have nothing to apologize for. And you’re not a mess.”

You look up, chin resting in the space between his collarbones. He looks down at you with a small smile, but some wariness is still etched into his features. Fear of unwittingly upsetting you again. He brings up a hand to push some hair out of your face and tuck it behind your ear. His hand remains there, toying with the hair that falls below your shoulder.

"Thank you for the food,” you whisper. The moment feels too intimate to speak any other way.

“I’m sorry for not listening to you. I just…” He imitates your quietness, like his admission is also too vulnerable to say loudly. “I really wanted to see you. And I hated the idea of you feeling bad about yourself, or being in pain. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Your eyes feel wet again. The first instinct is to hide your face, maybe press it to his chest once more. But, for some reason, you don’t. You want him to see you like this, messy and emotional and upset. You want him to see every part of you, and you want to see every part of him, the good and the bad.

“You didn’t.” A tear slips past the effort to keep it at bay. He shows no reaction to it, eyes never leaving yours, other than a quick swiping away with his thumb. “No one’s ever done anything like this for me before. That’s why I was crying. Not because you showed up.”

“That doesn’t seem right. This is nothing. You deserve even more.”

With no words to fully, adequately communicate the blooming in your chest, you stand on your toes, reaching up to him for a kiss. But given his stature, your lips only reach his chin and brush over its underside.

At your quiet whine, he chuckles and leans down to meet you in the middle. The kiss is soft; filled with the innocence of fresh blossoms in the spring, and the sweetness of its borne fruit.

You pull away when a vicious cramp roots you back to the present. Your limps tighten around Jason with a groan.

“I need to go back inside. I’ve been away from my heating pad for too long.”

His shoulders sag when you step away from him. “Oh, um…do you still…want me to leave?”

With a simple exhale of humorous disbelief, you grasp his hand in yours and tug him to your front door. He’s like an excited puppy, eyes brightened and perking up as he grabs the grocery bag and happily trails after you.

He goes straight to the kitchen, pulling out a chair at the counter for you to settle into, then sets the bag on the counter. The ice cream carton has dampened most of the cloth by now, and likely the rest of its contents, but rather than attending to the groceries, his first action is retrieving your heating pad from where it rests on the couch. He unplugs it from the wall outlet and brings it to you. You curl up on the chair with it pressed flat against your lower stomach. It only takes a minute for the pressure in your hips to abate.

Then he moves to the groceries. The ice cream immediately goes in the freezer, and he unloads what’s remaining onto the counter, one by one, and you take note of each item. There’s spinach, carrots, apples, oranges, dark chocolate, some kind of meat wrapped in brown paper, and, strangely enough, an entire block of cheese.

You give him a quizzical look, picking it up to read the label. “You got me…cheddar cheese?”

He retrieves a cutting board and knife from its spot next to the sink, then takes the cheese from you. “Good for certain symptoms.” He slices open the plastic wrapping and cuts out some cubes with skilled efficiency. He does the same with an apple. “They all are,” he says, referring to his entire haul. He completes the makeshift charcuterie board with a couple squares of dark chocolate and slides it across the counter.

You look down at the cutting board, thinking about everything he’s done for you; everything you never even had to ask for. The words sit on your tongue, encaged by your clenched teeth; an admission that coils itself around your spine and squeezes tight, restricts your breathing and pumps your heart at thrice its speed. But you feel yourself welling up again, and the first bout of tears already exhausted you so much that all you can manage is, “I don’t know what to do with all this. I don’t have the energy to make anything good.”

But he just smiles and says, “That’s what I’m here for, honey. Can I make you something?”

You nod. He gets to work. The immediacy of his actions, how he takes no time to decide on a dish or find a recipe, makes you think his previously stated intentions of ‘just dropping this off’ were less genuine than he lead you to believe. Nevertheless, you munch on the snacks he laid out for you and watch him work. The cheese and apples are a surprisingly cohesive combination, the meshing of sweet crispiness and savory creaminess eliciting a contented sigh from you. You try to ignore the way Jason smirks in the corner of your periphery. The chocolate is incredible, yet unfamiliar. You read the label on the packaging: 80% Dark Chocolate with Cherry and Almond Filling. Even if you hadn’t tasted it yet, the quality of the packaging itself would have been enough to let you know that this chocolate is extremely high-quality. Like, special-order-from-Europe quality. Not stop-at-the-grocery-store-on-the-way-home quality.

“Where is this from? Did you buy this today?” You ask him through a mouthful of the rich, melting chocolate.

He doesn’t look up from the carrots he’s dicing. “Uh…no.”

Anyone else would attribute his avoidance of eye-contact to standard kitchen-knife caution. You are not anyone else. You could blindfold him, spin him around ten times, put a sharp knife in his hand, and he could still pull off a perfect julienne. You look closer. His cheeks are dusted with pink.

You let out a laugh. “Jason, you’re not embarrassed about liking fancy chocolate, are you?”

“No! Not at all,” he says, ceasing his chopping. He looks up, but not quite at you.

“Then?”

“‘Then’ what?” He asks.

“Then why are you being so shifty right now?” You try to catch his gaze.

“I’m not!” He defends. “It’s just chocolate! Do you like it? I’ll bring you more.” He’s stealthy with the way he avoids your eyes; you almost can’t notice how hard he’s trying not to make eye contact.

“Jason!” You reach across the counter, having to rise off the chair slightly, and take his face in your hands, making him look at you. When he does, he wears a sheepish smile.

“It’s…” His removes your hands from his face, holding them in his. He mumbles something, turning his head to the side. But you catch the tail end of it, a goading grin already creeping up your face.

“What was that?” You tilt your ear towards him, exaggerating the action.

“It’s Bruce’s.” He, in turn, exaggerates the enunciation, rolling his eyes at your simpering. “I…found it. In his pantry one day. And I liked it, so I took it. And then I…kept taking it. Every time I visited.”

You pout teasingly. “And you’re ashamed to admit that you think he has good taste in something?”

He doesn’t say anything, only hiding his face in his shoulder. You pull on your intertwined hands and he gets the message, skirting around the kitchen counter to come closer.

“You are so adorable, you know that?” You say. You reach up and pinch his cheeks. He swats your hands away, but there’s no mistaking his broad, childish grin for anything but affection.

He breaks off another square from the chocolate bar and holds it to your lips. You bite off a small portion, then push it back to him. He takes the remaining piece in his mouth and his eyes close for a brief moment as he savors the sweet, tart, and nutty flavors. You simply watch, entranced by him. Then, he kisses you. You lean into it, hands sliding up his shirt to grip the fabric and bring him even closer. His hold finds your waist.

He tastes like cherries and dark chocolate.

He breaks the kiss to rest his forehead on yours, and you want to tell him that. That, and so much more. But from the look on his face, the way his eyes find yours and the tips of his ears have a similar heat to the one in your chest, you can tell he already knows.

when it comes to jason's post-pit-repressed-teenager characterization (aka despite being older he's still as inexperienced and confused and insecure about the world outside of vigilantism and w/ women as a 15 y/o would be) (aka my favorite characterization tee hee), i think that he's mature about periods, knows they're normal and not gross or shameful etc, but still gets shy about saying the actual word, for no other reason than the 'shy around women' part always makes me giggle

also bruce is keeping the chocolate stocked specifically because he knows jason likes it and will keep taking it because he loves his son even if his son doesn't love him (he does he's just in his angsty teen 'i hate this family you don't understand me' phase rn)

divider is from here

quote at the beginning is pablo neruda <3

[nicksolemnlyswears]

JUST TEASIN’

summary: you call joel an old man…amongst other names

pairing: joel miller x reader

word count: 4.4k [i need to learn how to keep things concise]

warnings: 18+, cursing, spanking, p in v, fingering, oral (male receiving), age gap? totally legal though, joel's in his early 40s and reader is in her early 30s, joel is an ass guy which is strange cause i always make my men boob guys, idk i guess this is pretty tame

a/n: as a joke i tend to call pedro and joel peepaw cause he’s older and a total dilf but i love these men so fucking much. i'll be the first to get on my knees

thought i’d make a sweet oneshot about how they’d react to you calling them old. it’s a mix of fluff and smut. a little something for everyone!

also don’t judge me, this is my first time writing for joel 🥺

there’s a little nudge to another favorite fictional men of mine

i want to thank @yxtkiwiyxt for providing me with all the pedro pascal pictures and gifs and movie trailers and for ranting with me all day every day about how amazing this human is… if anyone is to blame about this oneshot it’s her ❤️

It’s one of those lazy Sunday mornings where everyone sleeps in, leaving the Miller household at complete ease. There are no responsibilities to tend to and nowhere to go.

You’re the only one awake, singing quietly under your breath and flipping pancakes until they’re nice and golden. Joel will come seeking you out soon, missing the warmth of your body and Sarah will follow when Joel cracks her door open to let the sweet smell of batter waft into her room.

No matter how hard you try you’re always the first one up. Sometimes you stay in bed with your husband, tracing figures on his bare skin until he pulls you into him and kisses your head good morning, raspy voice begging you for five more minutes.

But most of the time you decide on getting up and having an early start to your day, which includes making breakfast and sorting through your work emails.

The puppy Sarah adopted a couple weeks ago, sits on your feet, licking your legs as if begging for the fluffy sweetness of the pancakes. He had a taste of it when batter dripped on the floor, he licked it up before you had the chance of cleaning it.

Lost in your little world, singing to the tune of Lana del Rey you fail to notice your husband coming down the stairs. Joel leans against the kitchen island admiring you in your distracted state. The loose brown curls in a disarray at the top of his head.

His eyes scan you from head to toe, noting your messy hair pulled up to a half ponytail half bun thing he can’t begin to explain. Down they go to the cropped tshirt with his company’s logo on the back. The frayed edges are the byproduct of your use of kitchen scissors to crop it yourself.

Joel bites his lip as he ogles at your ass and thick thighs framed by the tiniest cotton shorts he’s ever seen. They fail to cover the bottom of your butt cheeks, exposing a sliver of the indigo panties and the crease where thighs meet butt.

Unable to stay away, Joel wraps his warm arms around your waist as he presses a kiss to your temple. He squeezes you to him, bodies pressed flushed to reveal the stiffness in his pajama pants.

The puppy wags his tail in the presence of his favorite human, standing on two legs to call his attention. The man didn’t want him in the first place but was out voted by the females in the household.

“Morning,” Joel murmurs, placing kisses all over your cheeks and down your neck until he finally presses a warm kiss on your shoulder where he rests his chin to look over at the stovetop.

“Morning old man,” you say with a giggle as his scruffy beard tickles your skin. Your lips press against his in a quick kiss, muffling his sigh of disappointment.

“Don’t start, sweetheart,” he warns. His lips brushing against your ear. Joel’s hands find themselves under your tshirt, his thumbs ghosting over your underboob. At the same time the fingertips of his other hand teasingly dip on the waistband of your shorts.

“Or what?” You say with a bite to your lip, flipping over the last batch of pancakes. Couple more seconds and they would’ve burned—that’s how much he distracts you.

“It’s too early for this!” Sarah’s high pitched voice yells. “Not in the kitchen and not in front of the baby, please!”

The puppy scrambles over to Sarah, jumping into her arms. He recognizes she’s the one who will cave and give him scraps of food.

Joel, startled, takes his hands off of you, facing Sarah with an apologetic smile, not that she sees it as she covers her eyes with a hand. “Are you decent? Can I look now? I’m really hungry if you don’t mind.”

You laugh loudly, shaking your head at Sarah’s dramatics. She takes after Joel and is well on her way to beat him at his own game.

“We’re not doin’ anythin’,” Joel mumbles, sitting on one of the kitchen island stools and petting the pups fluffy head, and the ear that flipped over cutely.

“Not yet,” you whisper to him as you place his stack of pancakes in front of him.

“I heard that!” Sarah yells, covering her ears this time. Joel laughs, nudging her shoulder and telling her to pass the syrup.

You lean across from them, grabbing a sliced strawberry to plop into your mouth. Sarah takes over the conversation as you and Joel share a glance. This is far from over.

Later on the day you head outside with a tray of lemonade and pie in your hands. You’ve gotta take care of your dear husband before the Texas heat gets the best of him.

You nudge Joel’s leg with your foot. He’s under the beat up truck, fixing some odd part. He has the means to replace the old thing but he likes to remind you that ‘Betsy,’ as he’s named his truck, is a part of the family and will never be replaced.

“Thanks, darlin,‘“ he drawls, wiping his dirty hands on a random rag he found on the bed of the truck.

Joel takes a second too long to get up from the floor. You see the hesitance in his eyes as he tries to think the best way to stand without hurting or pulling a muscle.

This is your chance. “Need help there, grandpa?” You pipe up, resting the tray on the portable table scattered with tools.

Joel openly glares at you while you smile broadly at him. It’s not often you make fun of his age, or rather, the age gap between the two of you. It’s only when you’re feeling a particular sort of way.

The age gap between the two of you isn’t the craziest but it’s large enough for people to notice. Joel is easily through the first half of his fourth decade, while you are barely entering your third.

“Watch your mouth,” Joel warns you, standing up quickly despite the cracking of his knees and the ache on his lower back.

Your eyes spark when he grabs the glass of cool lemonade and begins chugging it. The drops of sweat sliding down his neck and into the damp collar of his shirt stealing your attention and any innocent thought you’ve might’ve had about him. They weren’t many to begin with.

You clench your thighs together as you imagine licking that same trail, tasting his salty skin. Say what you want but you love a man that works with his hands and gets all dirty and grimy.

Joel catches onto the glazed look covering your eyes and grasps your chin between his thumb and pointer finger. His body gravitating towards yours as if nature demanded it.

You’re overly conscious of the motor oil covering his hands if not you would’ve sucked his thumb into your mouth, reminding him just exactly you can do with your tongue.

“What’s in that pretty lil head of yours, darlin’?”

Him. It’s all about him. He’s always interrupting whatever sane thought you have. Scenarios of you being bent over the hood of the truck as he sinks his aching length from behind. You riding him in the front seat as you’ve done on more than one occasion, fogging up the windows. The time he was knuckles deep inside of you, teasing fingers drenched during his lunch break.

“How good gray looks on you,” you reply, diverting the conversation somewhere else entirely. A delicate fingers wraps around the charming curl that constantly falls over his forehead, twirling it around.

Joel doesn’t take kindly to your comment, rolling his eyes and clicking his jaw as he lets go of you to return to the truck. Your hand which had been playing with his curl drops to your side as you cock your hip to assess him.

He’s much too aware of the age gap, it makes him insecure. Like you’ll one day realize you’re with an old man and leave him for someone younger.

Except in your eyes he’s the most perfect man alive. The grey streaks of hair that mix with the typical brown of his curls give him an air of authority, making him look dashing in all ways. A silver fox. Strong muscles from working manual labor most of his life are now covered with a healthy layer of fat but remain strong nonetheless. Warm brown eyes that sweep you off your feet every morning as soon as they open.

That man is aging like fine wine and he doesn’t begin to realize it. You feel extremely lucky to be the only one to enjoy it…squeaky joints and all.

Joel is experienced and mature and loyal. He simply wants to have a nice life with his family. A family you’re now a part of. It’s all a woman could ask for.

“You know I love you,” you tell him, wrapping your arms around him as he leans over the hood.

“Love to torture me,” he scoffs, taking hold of one of your hands affectionately. He can never stay mad at you.

“I don’t know what you mean? I brought you lemonade and even that apple pie you love so much,” you feign innocence, pressing a kiss to the middle of his back.

Facing you with a sigh, he lets his heavy hands fall on your hips, “What’re you playing at?”

“Me? Nothing,” you say with a wicked smile, “I’m gonna go with Sarah to the mall to get her homecoming dress. Will you be alright here with Ghost?”

He’s quickly distracted by the words Sarah and Homecoming. His babygirl is growing too fast, starting High School and going on dances with boys. She hasn’t told him yet if she’s been invited by someone and he hopes it stays that way.

There’s no way he’s letting her go with a date and you can’t convince him other wise. If she wants a date she can take the puppy she adopted, Ghost. Joel is determined to teach the ball of fur how to defend his daughter.

“Here,” he says, pulling out his wallet to hand you his credit card.

“No, it’s my treat!” You say, pushing his hand away.

“Take it,” Joel insists, trying to slip it into the tight pair of jeans you’re wearing. Fuck. How didn’t he notice until now.

It should be illegal to wear jeans that make you look THAT good. The blue material hugs your thighs tightly and lifts your perky ass to heaven—not that you other wise need it.

He doesn’t hold back and slides his palms on your back pockets, giving you a firm squeeze. You stumble, falling onto him with a weak protest.

“‘M so fucking lucky you’re my woman,” he groans, taking another feel. Temporarily forgetting the conversation at hand, yet another comment directed at his age snaps Joel back to reality.

“Honey, I know I married an older man but it wasn’t for your money,” you tease again, patting his cheek and removing his hands from your pockets—credit card and all.

A sharp slap to your ass, startles you, eliciting a cheeky giggle. All this teasing and you’re leaving him home alone with the mutt.

You don’t apologize, you’ll never apologize for teasing him. Unless it’s in the right circumstances…in his bed.

Towards the end of the night you finish pushing him to the edge of no return. Remember, opportunities are always around when you’re determined.

“Dad, can you sign this for school?” Sarah comes into the living room where you and Joel are watching a movie. Ghost’s head is plopped on his lap, where Joel had been ‘forced’ to pet him.

“What’s this for?” Joel tries to read the paper but has to keep it at arms reach to be able to read it. Failing, he searches for his glasses until Sarah points at his head where they’ve been resting for half the night, nestled between his curls.

You stifle a laugh as you think of what to say. “Sorry Sarah, good old peepaw needs his glasses to read.”

It’s clear you’re pushing it far as Joel freezes only to glare at you. If looks could kill you’d be six feet underground. Sarah laughs until her belly hurts, repeating the word peepaw between breaths.

“You two are bullies,” Joel shakes his head in disbelief, signing the permit and handing it to Sarah who is wiping her tears away.

“I’m heading to bed, goodnight old man,” Sarah tells a pouting Joel, kissing his cheek and running up the stairs. “Come on, Ghost. Bedtime!”

“Peepaw? Really?” Joel raises his eyebrows at you when both Sarah and Ghost are gone.

You shrug feigning innocence, hiding your smile with the edge of the blanket. ”Yeah, peepaw. It’s cute.”

“It ain’t cute,” Joel kisses his teeth before turning off the TV and standing from the couch, leaving you behind.

“Where are you going?” You call after him.

“To bed,” he dryly responds, shutting off the lights and climbing the stairs. He only leaves the lamp by the couch on. How considerate of him.

“What? Joel it’s barely 10!” Hiding your satisfaction is difficult. Joel’s ticked off, a day of calling him old will do that. It’s exactly what you hoped for.

“Guess that’s what old men do, darlin,’” Joel says sarcastically half way up the stairs.

With a hand over your mouth, you follow him, “Honey, come on. Don’t be angry, it’s harmless teasing. Are you really heading to bed?”

Joel turns at the top of the stairs, glaring down at you, “You really think I’m an old man?”

“Technically speaking you are an older man,” you quip, scrunching your nose cutely.

“You know that’s not what I mean.” Joel crosses his arms, reprimanding you for your cheekiness.

“I dunno why you get like this, you should know I love my older men,” you say sultrily, although it falls on deaf ears as Joel retreats to the bedroom.

When you step into the bedroom you’re instantly pressed against the door, slamming it shut. Joel’s sneaky hands lock it. “You’re playing a dangerous game, darlin.’ Don’t make me bend you over my knee and give you a spanking.”

The thought alone makes you shudder in delight. Wetness instantly seeping into your underwear. You’ve finally succeeded. You have him right where you want him.

With your hands braced on his chest you deliver the final blow. “You sure your knees can take it?”

Disbelief flashes in Joel’s eyes, “That’s it!”

Grabbing your arms Joel leads you to the bed where he sits on the edge. He roughly pull down on your jeans, panties and all, leaving them pooled on your knees, limiting your mobility.

With another tug he lays you face down on his lap, holding your wrists behind you in a tight grip. Joel shakes his head at your upturned ass that’s waiting a little too eagerly for his touch.

Delight bubbles out of you and Joel is determined to take you down a notch or two. Let’s see how you handle this after fucking with him all damn day.

The first swat comes without warning, eliciting a gasp from you. It’s sharp and borderline painful. A red handprint magically appearing on your left butt cheek.

Joel massages and paws at the skin, getting ready to deliver another one. “Cat got your tongue?” He questions at your sudden silence.

You try to look over your shoulder and say, “Is that all you got?”

A sarcastic chuckle leaves Joel’s mouth. Then, three fast slaps are delivered, successfully earning him a whine from your pretty lips. He rubs on the sweltering flesh, easing some of the sting.

Finding their way to your thighs his fingers dig between them to cup your pussy. It’s no surprise that it’s warm, messy and slick. Clear strands extending from it to the inside of your thighs and covering his digits.

You’re a fucking vixen who loves to torture him for your own fucking pleasure and he’s the damn fool who falls for it each and every time.

“Touch me,” you huff, wiggling on his lap to grind on his hand, hoping to gain more contact with his coated digits.

“Touch you? Oh, darlin’ you’re not getting off the hook so easily,” Joel mentions darkly, retrieving his hand and landing yet another smack to your ass, making it ripple from the impact.

“Ow!” You flinch yet remain in the same position, expecting more. You fucking love when Joel gets rough with you. It’s a shame you have to gauge it out of him like this.

“Wasn’t this what you wanted? Hm?” Joel’s asks and when he doesn’t get a response his hand flies down once more. “What was it you called me?”

There’s a beat of silence before his hand strikes, this time aiming towards the middle. “Gra-grandpa,” you stutter at the small burst of pleasure.

“Mhm, what else darlin’?” He prompts again. His middle finger tracing the slit of your pussy, feeling you grow impossibly wetter. His pretty little wife is always so reactive to his touch.

“Old man.”

The stinging in your skin grows warmer, no doubt turning a considerable shade of cherry red. Yet the ache in your cunt obscures it all. The scraps of attention only makes your arousal worse.

“I think there was one more,” Joel hums, urging you on. His slick finger teasing your weeping entrance.

“P-peepaw,” you gasp when Joel pushes it in until his knuckle meets your delicate skin.

“That’s right, peepaw,” Joel repeats absentmindedly, pushing his middle finger in and out. Listening intently to the squishing sound your pussy makes.

He’ll have you calling him something else by the end of the night.

Tight walls grip his finger like a vice, refusing to let go. Soft puffs of air tumble out of your mouth and he knows your eyes are closed as you concentrate on the minimal pleasure he’s providing you with. It’ll never be enough to make you cum but it’ll keep you bothered.

“Get up,” Joel orders with a softer smack to your bottom, wiping his slick covered finger on your skin. He helps you up from the restrained position he kept you in and makes work of taking off your clothes.

Joel pulls and tugs on your shirt roughly, throwing it mindlessly across the room. He palms your tits briefly, pinching one of your nipples to make you whine his name. With cracking knees he kneels on the floor to help you out your jeans and underwear, kneading your thighs with his big strong hands.

He catches a glance of your reddening skin and feels a prickle of pride at the mark he left. Most of it will fade by morning but you’ll feel it nonetheless.

Sitting back on the edge of the bed he wordlessly motions you to get on your knees. A wicked smile spreads on your cheeks as you do as you’re told, kneeling between his spread legs.

Eager hands grasp his belt, undoing the worn leather to get to the button of his jeans. He provides no help, leaning back on his hands and simply watching you with hooded and expecting eyes.

You pull down on his jeans and underwear, revealing the happy trail that comes down his navel to the patch of brown at his pelvis.

His hard cock springs free once you’ve worked his pants down enough. A throaty groan coming from above you at the release of tension.

“Mmm,” you hum, grasping his length in your fist. His eyes meet yours when you look up to press a kiss to the tip, your hand pulling the thin skin back to reveal it.

“Stop with the teasin,’” Joel growls audibly, chastising you.

You rolls your eyes obnoxiosuly, “You’re no fun, g-“

A hand flies to your hair, gripping the roots tightly. Your eyes fly open, starting up at Joel. “You sure you want to finish that sentence, babygirl?”

“Maybe not,” you shrug with a pout, your hand mindlessly pumping his length.

“That’s what I thought.” Joel keeps his grip on your hair, pulling it back to see every detail of you taking his cock into your pretty mouth.

Your tongue goes flat against the underside of his shaft, tracing the vein that runs along his length and letting saliva drip all down and into your fisted hand. Joel watches intently as your lips wrap around the angry red tip of his cock.

You start off slow taking more of his length with each bob of your head. Your eyes never leaves his face, observing every small reaction he makes. The sharp intake of breath when your tongue grazes his tip, the furrowing of his eyebrows, the bobbing of his adam’s apple as he fails to keep his moans in.

The sudden jerk of Joel’s hips causes your eyes to water and screw shut. The initial intrusion of his cockhead unexpected yet welcome. Joel throws his head back, “That’s a fucking good girl.”

Those magic words make everything worth it as you messily continue to suck and lick every inch of his cock. Neither the tears in the corner of your eyes nor the saliva dripping down his length stop you from tasting him.

You swear you’re dripping on the floor as your pussy flutters at his pleased words. You could touch yourself but all your energy and attention goes to pleasing the man above you.

The pain of kneeling hard wood floor for an extended period of time doesn’t bother you and the ache on your jaw is barely noticeable because all your concentration is on Joel and making him feel good.

Joel continues to set the pace, his grip tight on your scalp. “Fuck, just like that,” he moans when you tease the crown of his cock expertly.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Joel’s voice lilts in a reprimanding voice.

A string of saliva connects you to the tip of him as your hand continuing to work on the rest of his length.

Joel takes note of your red rimmed eyes and flushed nose as well as in your swollen lips and moussed hair. The picture of you completely filthy and sexy.

Joel cups the back of your neck, bringing you up to his height. He brings you into a sloppy kiss consisting of teeth and tongue and saliva. Joel loves that can taste himself in your mouth. A job well done.

You straddle his lap so his cock grazes your dripping pussy, tugging needily at his tshirt. “Take it off,” you beg. Your lips separate for a brief second as the shirt comes off before they smash back together.

He complies but quickly reminds himself that this all started because you were calling him old. He can’t be quick to reward you.

You foolishly believe that’s it and you get to have him. Eagerly you try to sink into his cock but he holds you still, not letting you take him to the hilt.

“Who’s the tease now?” You pant against his lips, stealing another long kiss before whispering in his ear begging him to take you, to use you.

“I like to see you begging for it.” That’s Joel’s response as he pushes you off of him.

You protest but fall silent when he removes his remaining clothes. God you’re like a teenager desperate to fuck with clothes and all.

It drives Joel nuts the way you look at him with lust filled eyes. You bite your lip as you take him in all his glory, hands reaching to touch his chest.

He pulls you back to him, his cock wedged between the two of you. The saliva covering it, sticking to your skin. He cups your face, “You have something to say?”

“Nope.”

Joel to cos his head in disappointment, pushing you into bed and maneuvering you till your head is buried in the pillows and your ass is high in the air. It’s tinged a dozen shades of pink and red from his hands.

You wiggle your hips offering yourself to him. Air hits your pussy, giving you an idea of how aroused you are. That’s what happens whenever you have the pleasure of going down in Joel.

Joel grips himself, spreading his pre before pumping his hand. Smack. His hand flies down to strike your ass once more. Your back arches when Joel teases your entrance with the tip. He runs it up and down your slit, wetting it with your slick. He lightly pushes into you so only the tip is inside before he pulls out again.

“Please fuck me,” you plead breathlessly, attempting to rock back to get more of him inside you.

Joel laughs. “Now you’re nice and polite. Is there something else you want to tell me?” He asks expecting an apology.

“No,” you repeat stubbornly.

He’ll get you soon enough. There’s no way you’ll resist.

Joel’s cock brushes against your clit, making you jump and moan. He does it again and again. Your pussy clenches desperately wanting him inside of you.

“You sure? You don’t want to apologize?” He gives you another chance. Sinking his cock deeper into you to give you a taste before he pulls out.

You huff and pout but you can’t take it anymore. You need him. “I’m sorry!”

“Now, was that so hard,” Joel grunts, pushing his length all the way in, rewarding you.

You bury your head into the pillow, stifling the guttural moan that rips from your throat. You could die like this suffocated and blissfully impaled on Joel’s cock and be happy.

With a tight grip on your waist Joel fucks into you at his own pace, watching how easily you accept him, covering him with your essence. It feels fucking fantastic.

His skin slaps against yours rhythmically. You swear you can cum at that moment but Joel knows all your tells and he slows his pace, pushing into you only when the tip remains. Long, slow strokes keeping you from cumming.

“I wanna cum,” you cry out frustrated but he ignores you, edging you.

“If you want to cum tonight you have to stop calling me old,” Joel grits. This is torture for him as much as it is for you.

“I said I’m sorry,” you sob into the pillow, your back arching as you try and take matters into your own hands. Smack, another spank, warning you to stop.

“Will you stop calling me grandpa?”

You have the audacity to fucking hesitate. He’s serious about not letting you cum but he’s confident he’ll get you to cave in.

Joel pulls out his cock when you refuse to answer. He instantly misses the warmth and tightness of your walls. His cock is soaked with your slick, a creamy white substance covering him from root to tip.

Licking his middle and ring fingers he replaces his cock, feeling your walls clench around them. He pumps them angling them downward to reach that spot inside of you, his other hand pressing on your lower back so you arch more.

“Oh fuck,” you gasp when this thumb presses on your bud. An orgasm quickly building. “Please Joel.” You wanted to cum around his cock not his fingers but at this point you’ll take anything you can get. Your mind is completely clouded and years for release.

“Did you reconsider what you wanted to call me?” Joel curves his fingers, quickening the pace.

“Yes,” you whine as your hips grind against his hand.

“And what’s that?” His fingers are sticky, your essence dripping down his hand.

“Please, daddy,” you cry abashedly, hiding your reddening face in the pillows.

“I didn’t hear ya’ darlin’. How about you look at me when you speak?” Joel dares to say while his fingers continue to drive into you.

Fuck, your legs are shaking and the knot continues to tighten in your belly. You have to say it or Joel will stop. You turn your head to meet his eyes, “Please, daddy.”

“That’s more like it,” Joel’s raspy voice says, removing his fingers when you’re at the cusp once more.

You audibly groan in frustration but it’s interrupted when Joel eases his cock back into you Fucking you just as you want it, hard and fast.

The bed sheets are fisted in your hands as you hold on. Your nipples brushing against the bed with each thrust. It doesn’t take long at all for you both to titer over the edge. Your pussy squeezing tightly around him, milking him for all he’s worth.

When Joel pulls out you fall to lie on your stomach, catching your breath. He lies beside you doing the same. Sharing a glance you both start laughing.

“Next time you want it rough just tell me,” Joel shakes his head at you. He knew all along and yet it still pissed him off.

“It’s not the same, honey,” you sigh, kissing his shoulder. The nearest part of him you can reach without moving too much.

The following morning you wake up with a kink in your back and Joel being the ever loving husband brings you painkillers to bed where you’re lying still, “Take these grandma. They’ll make you feel better.”

He won’t ever call you ‘grandma’ again. The daggers you sent him were fucking terrifying.

listen...typically i'm not the biggest fan of the daddy kink...but when it works, it works

[hanasnx]

baby daddy jason for when the one parent-teacher conference the sweet unassuming teachers like “mrs. Todd” and you’re “uhhh we’re not married”, but Jason, despite not being up to the commitment, likes the idea. He definitely would not correct the teacher like you immediately would.

Actually idk where I was going with this I had an idea but then it kinda stopped soz

MINORS DNI 18+

You’re not even sure how it happened. In your opinion, it’s best that BABY DADDY!JASON TODD stay far away from you and your daughter. Maybe he sifted through your mail the last time he snuck in, maybe he intercepted your calls, maybe he followed her to school to add himself to her emergency contacts—all completely feasible when dealing with someone so meticulously thorough and annoyingly committed. You’re face to face with him outside your daughter’s teacher’s door.

“What are you doing here?” you seethe in a whisper, avoiding a scene.

Jason’s face twists in feigned confusion, pointing to the flyer on the wall. He reads out its words as his finger follows along, “‘Parent teacher conference.’” He points to himself finally. “Parent.” A smug curl forms on his lips, standing tall in outsmarting you even though it’s not what you asked.

Your nostrils flare as you suck in a breath. Unfortunately, Jason is exceptional at getting on your nerves. You wonder how he managed knocking you up. Advancing on him, he mirrors you, meeting you in the middle as you engage him, “Jason, I don’t want you here—“

The door swings open, and you jump in place, leaning away abruptly. Jason coolly inclines back, shoving his hands in his pockets, he’s got nothing to hide. Your daughter’s teacher greets you both with a cheerful grin, beckoning you in. “You made it! Come on in, come on in.” You exchange a warning glance with Jason, but you clutch your purse strap and duck in while he trails leisurely after.

The meeting goes well, the teacher rants and raves about your daughter, especially about her art skills, showcasing that talent with pictures of it. You open your mouth to speak, but Jason beats you to it, “Takes after her mother, huh? What do you know?” he says with pride, and you witness a genuine grin on his lips as he leans forward to take a closer look at the mess of glitter and stickers in the teacher’s hands.

Your heart skips a beat, and you fiddle with your hands in your lap. One reason you try to stay away from Jason is because of times like these. Makes you second guess your decision to end things with him, and that’s exactly what’s most dangerous.

“So, Mrs. Todd—“ the teacher’s voice breaks you from your stupor, gaze snapping up to her as you furrow your brows.

“Oh, we’re not married.” you object, interrupting her starkly, and she flushes, setting the artwork down with a nervous smile.

“Oh! My mistake. You two just seem so close…”

Jason sighs, raising an arm to wrap around the back of your chair. “Well, not yet.” he says with certainty, and you turn your attention to him, glancing at his arm placement and how the sleeve of his biker jacket brushes your hair. His hand cups your shoulder, which you stare at, and glare when he starts stroking your skin with his thumb. What makes you the most angry is not the entitlement to touch you—which he’s always had—but how he’s clearly messing with you on purpose. This is just like his brand of cruelty, embarrassing you further in a social situation. You tune out whatever crap he’s telling the teacher about the fake wedding and you peel his arm away from you, shoving it back into his lap.

“No, that’s not happening.” you object again, harsher this time and Jason merely scoffs through his nose as you deal with the poor confused teacher.

After the meeting, you’re practically corralled out of that room bickering. You somehow end up on the back of his bike instead of in the car you drove here. Somehow, further, letting him inside your place. Shouting over each other about how inconsiderate he is, and how serious you are, curtly removing your outerwear.

“Would it really be that bad?” he yells, that loud voice that gets you weak in the knees booming through your apartment. You’re lucky your babysitter still has your daughter. “Being married to me, would it really be that bad?”

“It’s not about that, Jason! You know that!”

Your objections are drowned out in how his big body herds you into your bedroom, how his hands push you down to rip off your jeans. How he palms your mouth to shut you up while he’s kissing on your neck, clumsily searching for the give in between your legs. His tip eases in as you lazily bat at his hefty shoulders and thick biceps. “Don’t wanna be Mrs. Todd, huh?” You relax under him the longer he’s inside you, rutting into you with patience as you jerk your head away from him. “What’s wrong with that? Don’t want my name? Don’t wanna be a happy little family?”

Your fist bangs against his rotator cuff and he laughs, husky and light in your ear. His teeth latch onto your lobe, playfully tugging on it while he bottoms out, and you emit a noise from your throat.

“Mrs. Todd,” he chides, “So wet for your husband. S’almost like you want it.”

[corroded-hellfire]

Idk if you're taking requests but I got an idea for the As You Wish AU!

I used to babysit for this couple who were complete metalheads and they had a 6 month old. Whenever I couldn't make her stop crying and put her down for a nap, I played "Crazy Train" and she immediately stopped crying when Ozzy screamed "ALL ABOARD!". She would jump in my arms for a bit, then be out like a light before the song was even over.

I can totally see that with Eddie and Eliza ❤

I’m pretty sure this is Eddie’s proudest moment as a father

Words: 1k

[As You Wish masterlist]

“Oh, thank God.”

You heave a sigh of relief and let your bag fall to the floor next to your feet. The hours long car ride home from your weekend with your sister not only exhausted you, but it made your muscles stiff and sore. Your neck has the most knots in it, so you roll it out as you walk further into the house, deciding you’ll pick up your bag later.

“Perfect, you’re home!”

Eddie darts down the hallway, a grin on his face, and Eliza in his arms.

“Hi.”

You can’t help but smile at the sight of their faces. Two pairs of dark chocolate eyes and the same shade of messy curls.

Eddie leans in and presses a kiss to your lips before he holds Eliza close enough to your face so you can pepper kisses along her cheeks.

“I missed you both,” you say. “Where are my boys?”

“Luke’s in the shower and Ryan went with Wayne to bring home ice cream for everyone,” Eddie tells you. “How was your weekend with Gin?”

“Good,” you say, reaching out and running a finger down the side of your six-month-old’s face. “Nice to be home, though. How was Liza without me overnight? Cause I was quite cranky without her.”

“She missed you,” Eddie says. He puts his left hand on her tummy and his wedding ring glints in the lamp light as he rubs over her fuzzy pajamas. “Took longer than usual for her to fall asleep. But I taught her a trick!”

The excitement in Eddie’s eyes makes you laugh and shake your head in amusement.

“She's not a dog,” you say.

“Tell that to Luke.”

“Is he still using little pieces of banana to try and get her to crawl?” you ask with a mix between a chuckle and a sigh.

“This is what we get for not letting him adopt a pet, I guess. But, come on!”

Eddie turns and shuffles back down the hall toward Eliza’s room, far too much energy in his step for your exhausted body. You trail behind him, but he passes by the pink princess nursery and takes your daughter into your room. He stays standing near your dresser, but you pass by to go and take a seat on the bed.

“Ah! Before you sit down, can you hit play on the stereo?” Eddie asks.

You furrow your brow as you pivot in the direction of the stereo tucked in the corner.

“Did you find a new bedtime song for her?” you ask.

“Oh yeah,” Eddie answers with a laugh. “Worked like a charm last night. I’m hoping it was more than a one-time thing because it was perfect.”

“Uh huh,” you hum as your finger hovers over the play button. It makes a soft clicking sound as you press it, then you turn around and give your full attention to Eliza in her father’s arms.

Ozzy’s maniacal laugh bursts forth from the speakers and you restrain yourself from rolling your eyes. It doesn’t surprise you in the least that your husband attempted to use Crazy Train as a lullaby when left alone with her.

To your surprise though, Eliza quickly becomes alert when she hears that laughter. Her back straightens and her neck is craned towards the stereo, as if she’s waiting for more.

“Awwh abwooooah!”

Eliza’s baby babbling may not have made quite the same sounds as Ozzy’s “All Aboard” call, but she had the tune and timing of it down pat.

Buh dun. Buh dun, buh dun, buh dun.

As the bass leads into the guitar, Eliza begins to thrash around in Eddie’s arms. She jumps and bounces as the song’s intro blends into the chorus. Eddie’s watching her with a proud and entertained grin on his face. His hold on her is secure, which is a good thing with all the bopping around she’s doing.

Eddie looks from her to you, and the two of you share an amused look. Eliza’s small head begins to shake back and forth, the short spiral curls whipping back and forth as she does. It’s the best headbanging attempt you’ve ever seen from a six-month-old.

About halfway through the song, Eliza’s movements begin to slow. Instead of full out throttling in her dad’s arms, she’s just weaving from side to side now. You can see as sleep catches her in its grip, her eyes becoming heavy and her moves turning into slow motion. By the time the song is playing its final notes, Eliza has her head smushed up against Eddie’s shoulder, eyes closed and small pink lips parted just slightly.

Once the song ends, you press the stop button so the next track doesn’t start. With a soft chuckle, you walk towards your husband and daughter.

“I’m impressed,” you admit.

“I finally have a heavy metal child,” Eddie says, which makes you chuckle again.

“She’s only six months, babe. Still plenty of time for me to turn her into a pop princess.”

“Don’t you threaten me,” Eddie says, narrowing his eyes at you.

You press a kiss to his stubbled cheek and straighten the back of Eliza’s purple onesie that got twisted from all her moving about. Eddie gives a gentle kiss to the top of Eliza’s curls before heading to her room a few doors down. The sound of the shower running echoes through the hall as you follow Eddie into the nursery.

Slowly, Eddie lowers the baby into her crib, while you turn on her nightlight that’s shaped like a princess crown.

“Sleep tight, Ozzliza,” Eddie whispers.

You turn to your husband with an affronted face. As annoyed as the nickname makes you, it’s impossible not to laugh as you scold him.

“Never call our daughter that again, please.”

Eddie smirks and throws his arm over your shoulders as he leads you both to the door.

“As long as you never leave me again for a whole weekend,” he says.

“Deal.” You slip your arm around his small waist as you step into the hallway. “I can’t sleep without you, anyway.”

“Well, guess you’ll just have to sleep with me tonight.”

The double entendre is clear and, somehow, you don’t feel quite as exhausted as you did a few minutes ago.

[ooffmlsorry]

Law Bends the Rules for You

A/N: This is my first time writing "Law x reader" or "x reader" in general. Takes place before Dressrosa. Oh! and have fun reading!

To a planner like Law, you had an invaluable devil fruit: the spy-spy fruit. The ability to touch any item and know everything about it instantly.

Moments ago, you had taken off one of your gloves and touched his hat. You were able to tell him what kind of animal it was made out of, who made it, from what store it came from, that it belonged to him and how long he'd had it. You were even able to tell him when he had modified the brim.

"If the item has been around a person long enough, I can even tell a little bit about them," you said, casually, even though your heart was pounding. Law could probably see the pulse throbbing in your neck. You came across pirates all the time but none from the Worst Generation. He was taller than you expected, handsomer, and more composed than his exploits at Sabaody Archipelago two years ago would've let on.

"I know this hat has been through a lot." You chose your next words carefully, "and it's owner has too."

Laws golden eyes flashed for a moment.

Something about that caused a flutter from your heart to your stomach. The wanted poster truly didn't do him justice.

"I-I'll help you. I'll join your crew," you stuttered. "Under two conditions."

Law smirked roguishly and raised an eyebrow. He remembered you saying you wouldn't make for a good pirate but from where Law was sitting he could see the makings of one already. Making a deal with him was bold.

"What makes you think I'll agree?" He rested his hand lazily on Kikoku, a wordless threat. His eyes drifted over your body back up to your face. "Or I could just make you, you don't look all that strong."

As much as that shouldn't have been hot it was, and that was almost as concerning as the implied threat in his words.

You rolled your eyes and looked away from him to hide the heat creeping up your face. "Why don't hear them before you say no," you snap.

Law scoffed, but his hand left Kikoku. He leaned his elbows on his thighs and laced his fingers together, ready to listen to you. "Out with it then, [Name]."

"Please don't make me wear one of those suits the rest of your crew has on," you said.

It was almost enough to make you burst out laughing the way Law's hands dropped as well as his jaw, eyes wide in a mix of shock and disturbance. You managed to stifle it just enough to continue. "I'll wear the insignia, make my own clothes if I have to, but I've spent enough time looking how someone else wanted me." You left it at that.

Law composed himself. Was it just your imagination or was he embarrassed you managed to catch him off guard. He cleared his throat and looked away from you. "Ridiculous, but fine," he said. "Is you're second just as stupid?"

You grinned. "Yeah," you said and carried on in the same breath without giving him time to interrupt. "You have to let me bring my cat!"

Law had no clue by agreeing to your conditions he was doomed to repeating himself on why Y/N got to wear whatever she wanted. Most of the time his answer included: "Because I said so" in true tired grump fashion.

A/N: welp, that's it. Hope you liked my first foray into writing "x reader." I guess stay tuned for more? Idk? I hope you have a good day <3

Part 2

[ratskinsuit]

Hey! Love your writing oneshots so much💗💗. I was thinking abt Adam whos surprisingly being subby bitch for female reader, its up to you whether shes a demon or angel. Do your thing!

MDNI

A/N: Guess who’s back bitchesssssss! >:D sorry it took so long for me to come back, my mental health was real bad, but it’s slightly better now! So I have returned to feed you feral trash pandas, queer possums and fancy rats (lovingly). Updates may be slow because im still very busy but I plan to do a bunch of requests so stay tuned! (ALSO I MAY START WRITING FOR CREEPYPASTA. I’m not much into the fandom though so idk lol)

So Adam always comes off as a Dom to most people right?

Bragging about how he makes you “scream his name” every night

Acting like he’s the one domming you

Presenting himself as a high and mighty god in the bedroom

But that’s all completely wrong

Because what people don’t see is how much of a little fucking bitch he is for you

How he’s often tied up in the bedroom, hands tied above him with a pretty red ribbon

Chest adorned with intricate ties and knots

Legs forcefully spread open, presenting himself to you shamelessly

his wings strapped down behind him, ruffled and twitching

His face red, hair messy and tangled from your hands digging into his scalp

Shoulders covered in bite marks, and back decorated beautifully with scratches (*Cough* masochist *cough*)

Eyes blown out with with lust staring down at you, filled with tears as you tear away yet another orgasm from him

his throat is scratchy from begging, the only sounds he can make out now are slurred, sentences as only being fragments and whines and moans of your name as he drools all over himself

He’s honestly so fucking bratty

He loves pushing your buttons, riling you up so you can fuck his brains out later

pretty loud honestly, but luckily he has soundproof walls, because he would probubly die if anyone ever hear how whiny he could be

honestly so up for public sex, push him up against the wall in a far back alleyway and make him forget his own name

Closet sex? Hell yeah

but you gotta gag him otherwise all of hell and heaven would be able to hear him

He won’t ever shut the fuck up so we know he’s good with his tongue.

Aftercare is usually consisted of you tryna get towels to clean him up and him whining and bitching

A/N: Kinda shitty rn because I’m doing this in like a severe thunderstorm with a high probability of tornadoes and I hate that bs so likeeeee- yeah

[cartoonguy08]

Been wanting to draw the difference between the RED team and BLU team from TF2 but I feel like I wanna tell my theory on them first. And I guess some twists on it? (Idk if they’re really twists)

First, I do believe in that clone theory. Red is the original and the BLU team are the clones.

BUT, everyone on the BLU team is the clone EXCEPT BLU Engie. RED Engie is actually the clone and BLU Engie is the original.

I believe this because in the comic with Dell’s grandfather you could see he’s obviously wearing BLU right?

I think, genuinely BLU Engie is the original Engie while the RED is the clone, unlike the rest of the RED mercs that are actually the original. Does this make sense?

I also think about how since RED Engie is on the RED team he thinks he IS the original Engie when he’s not. BLU Engie knows RED Engie feels this way but he doesn’t say anything. And he also doesn’t say anything to the BLU mercs to not startle them. Get what I’m saying?

Also with the whole hand thing. Personally I believe both Engie’s cut their hands off in different ways, and dealt with them differently.

BLU Engie was drunk, was making the Gunslinger to experiment and when drunk off his ass enough thought “I should replace my hand with this gunslinger, yeah, that’d be such a good idea!” And when he did it he realized what he did. I think he doesn’t regret it, but he covers the hand with a type of skin cover, like fake silicon skin.

With RED Engie I personally believe he did it just cuz he could lol. That God complex is STRONG in RED Engie.

Which also brings up—I think BLU Engie has an obvious god complex too, but not as strong as RED’s. RED’s a different breed 💀

I think that is enough said about Engie? Um, the whole clone theory thing is self explanatory, the BLU team are the clones of the RED team (the exception of Engie, BLU Engie is the original while the RED is the clone).

Now another thing, which is a bit confusing: Scout’s mom wears the blue and red dress (switches from one to the other) but is specifically RED Scout’s mother. BLU Scout (and this goes for the rest of the mercs) have “memories” (which really aren’t memories, just a copy of RED’s memories) of “his” mother. But Scout’s mom has no idea of BLU Scout. Neither does the rest of the mercs parents, they have no idea about the clone thing. But the BLU Team genuinely think that is their family.

I know that’s confusing I’m so sorry 🙏💀 But I’m thinking hard here man

I think that’s all there is to know? I’m gonna work on designs for the BLU team (eventually) and compare them to the RED team. I think I’ll do that cool thing where they’re different in tiny ways. Idk, stay tuned for that though 🤙

[skzooweemama]

Hello!!! Omg I've recently been obsessing over your posts 😅 I love your writing style!

If you're not too busy, could you do a thing that's like skz's reactions to finding out you're ticklish?

It's totally fine if you don't want to, take care!! 💕

yes ofccccc!! i'm so glad you like my writing!

formal apologies to all my not ticklish stays- just pretend for this one :) <33

two posts in two days? who am i? guess i’m on a writing kick lol- unfortunately i do not think this will continue (but also i don’t want it to be another month before i post again so i’m gonna do my best)

anyway- hope y’all enjoy!! this was super fun to write! still experimenting w formatting too so stay tuned 😵‍💫

~~~

Bang Chan:

channie definitely figured it out quick

literally he is always touching you

we've been over this

of course he is a gentleman

his love language may be physical touch, but he had to make sure you're okay w that first!

waits until you begin to initiate affection more often before he gets clingy

but then he's kind of all over you :)

you invited him over to your place one night, and even though he had just been working for hours, he was just too excited to see you

he was super tired though, so you took it upon yourself to set up a cute movie date so the two of you could just chill out and cuddle

at first, channie was just happily cuddled up against your side, an arm lazily slug around you waist while you petted his hair

it was cute and sleepy and perfect

until he just had to go and mess it up

chan's musicality seemed to get the best of him as he began to drum the rhythm to one of their tracks out on your waist

your very ticklish waist

there was a noble and valiant effort to stop yourself from freaking out, but alas

you let out a squeal and suddenly chan perked up, his exhaustion completely gone

safe to say you got pinned to the couch and tickled within an inch of your life

praying for you babe, he is a true monster

Lee Know:

minho wasn't really on the hunt for your tickle spots tbh

honestly, it's not something he thinks about a lot

unless it's happening right in front of him or he's feeling mischievous and he can take it out on someone in his direct vicinity (ex. our maknae on top)

his interest has to be piqued first

that's why when he figured out that you're ticklish, it was literally in the most cliche way possible

that's right- you got stuck in your shirt

it was a cute top that was way too expensive, but you had splurged a bit because you wanted something nice to wear on night outs

unfortunately, it was also incredibly tight and hard to get on and off

especially for your tipsy post-date brain... you were struggling

that's how minho found you, with your top half off, arms trapped in the fabric pulled over your head

he scoffed at you, shaking his head and tutting that you should've asked for help

just like him to be condescending at a time like this smh

but he does help you, grasping at your fabric cage and yanking upwards

and it was so helpful, except for the fact that he just barely brushed your underarms

which made you squeal and pull away from him

which made him curious

minho helped you out of the top completely before he decided to explore what made you squeal like that

after that, though, he tackled you onto the bed and found every single tickle spot you had before he even thought about letting you go

and he's a meanie too... idk if you'll survive :)

Changbin:

changbin has definitely tried to tickle you before

he just never found the spot

yk how sometimes you'll see vids of idols "tickling" their member's forearms or like shoulder?

he did shit like that, fully expecting you to laugh

safe to say you did not

so he had mostly given up, content with the fact that you aren't ticklish

however

he did start to take you on gym dates

and on one of these gym dates he discovered just how wrong he was

you decided to try to do an unassisted chin up, which you had been building up to by using resistance bands each time you tried

changbin was standing close by for moral support (and also to catch you just in case)

you made sure to remember the proper technique and pulled yourself all the way up, chin just meeting the bar

changbin cheered when you dropped down, grasping your waist and kissing your cheek proudly

you felt so victorious! but when changbin's hand just brushed against the skin of your stomach from beneath your shirt, you froze and let out a squeak of surprise

despite my earlier comments, changbin is no dummy

you can be sure that later that night he decided to see just how sensitive you really were

you'll never have a moment of peace with him now ;))))

Hyunjin:

hyunjin is a poker

for some reason, those long fingers of his are just drawn to exposed skin

changbin is a frequent target, but tbh all of the members have fallen victim to his shenanigans at some point

and ofc, there's no special treatment, even if you're dating him

you will be poked, and it will tickle

your first mistake was wearing a new shirt that had those slits going diagonally down the front of the top

you hadn't even thought anything of it when you put it on that morning

i mean, it's a shirt and you were under the assumption that your boyfriend wasn't a weirdo

(you were wrong)

that night, hyunjin decided to help you make some dinner

and by "help" i mean he stood behind you with his hands around your waist and his chin on your shoulder while you cooked, talking your ear off about whatever came to his mind

he's annoying

anyway, eventually he got bored

you were too focused on the food! how could you ignore him?!

as he stewed in his boredom, his fingers found their way to the slits in the front of your shirt and brushed up against your warm skin

and then, he delivered one firm poke

right to your bellybutton

immediately, you let out a strained giggle and tried to move away from him, but unfortunately he had you trapped between the kitchen counter and his body

before you could even devise another plan of escape, his hands slipped beneath your shirt and began to wreck your tummy, shirt slits be damned

you nearly died that night, and it was certainly not the last time something like that happened~

Han:

jisung was shy

really he was, especially at the beginning of your relationship

it took him a while to even work up the nerve to kiss you after you began dating, and even then he was kind of drunk

but somewhere around the 3 month mark, a switch flipped

he began to touch you more and he was more playful

introverts are funny like that

it stands to reason that he discovered how ticklish you were not long after

i mean, how were you supposed to respond when he asked to give you a foot massage? say no?

you tried that, but he pouted and you caved

you sort of accepted the fact that he'd find out, especially when you got out of the shower to find him on your bed with lotion and foot masks

and he looked so fcking cute too, curse you jisung >:(

safe to say he knew something was up as soon as you sat down to offer him a foot to massage

you were bright red, stuttering, and even sweating a lil bit

and when he started teasing?! telling you how cute you looked?!!?

oh no, you were done for

he couldn't even start massaging, you collapsed in giggles as soon as his fingers grazed the bottoms of your feet with lotion

your silly boyfriend started laughing at you, and the next thing you knew, your feet were headlocked beneath his arm and he was going to town on them

you screamed and thrashed, and eventually pulled a foot away and gave him a good kick

bad idea, because now he's gonna get revenge by finding out what other spots make you scream <3

Felix:

felix was totally curious

like you knew he was ticklish (you reminded him of that fact frequently), so shouldn't he know if you were too?

he thought he should

his investigation began one evening when he came over for a sleepover

you, ofc, were expecting nothing but cuddles and romantic cutesy stuff

after your last week of midterms at university, it felt more necessary than ever

felix, on the other hand, was nothing if not conniving

it wasn't his fault that you just looked so cute in your pjs

perfect to test his theories on as well

you had dragged him to the bathroom so you could do skincare together, and then made him sit through a face mask, and then you two finally went to bed

but felix still had to wait for the perfect moment

and he wasn't gonna stop you when your lips found their way to his, small kisses blossoming into a lazy make-out session

emphasis on "lazy" because honestly you could hardly keep your eyes open by the time he pulled away

he giggled and brushed your hair from your eyes, thumb tracing your kiss-swollen lips as he whispered about how pretty you were

you flushed, scolding him about being a tease before you reached to turn off your bedside table lamp

felix suddenly remembered his mission

and his time had arrived

you just barely clicked the light off before felix stuck his fingers right into your armpit, massaging deep circles into your flesh

you positively squealed, unable to stop yourself from falling into witch-like cackles

felix's investigation was a success, and you can bet he'd use these findings again and again

Seungmin:

seungmin tickles you to get what he wants

or at least, he does after he finds out about your weakness

and it doesn't take long really

technically, the two of you weren't even official yet when he makes the discovery

the night before, one thing kind of led to another during an after-party, and the next thing you knew, you woke up in the same bed

wearing very little

anywayyyy

seungmin was the first to wake up in the morning with a raging headache

no lie, he felt like he had been run over by 20 tour buses

somehow, when he saw you, cuddled into his chest snoozing peacefully, he felt less gross

it was probably because he was in love with you, but he wasn't really ready to admit that to himself yet

and he did really have to pee, and he could not do that with you koalabeared onto him

no time to think about emotions or anything

at first, he tried to shake you awake, which proved to be futile

next, he tried prying your arms off from around his waist, but your grip was like iron

finallly, he tried poking and prodding you because he didn't have any other ideas

almost immediately you began to squirm away, trying to fight off the tickles in your sleepy state

eventually (partly because you were too cute gently giggling and partly because now he really needed to pee) he finally dug into your sides and really gave you a good wake up call

you woke up laughing loudly from the tickles, and when your vision cleared, you saw a blushing seungmin making his way to the bathroom

I.N:

Jeongin tickles you when you annoy him

which you do a lot

it's like you were built to push all of his buttons istg

the first time he ever found out you were ticklish, you were making fun of him

it was a personal favorite pastime of yours

(definitely not because you thought jeongin was hot when he was frustrated, no ofc not)

today had just not been a good day for him in the slightest

his voice was a bit hoarse so he couldn’t record, he kept missing steps in their dance practice, and to top it all off he was breaking out from the stress of a new comeback

so really, why were you adding gas to that fire?

usually you only bugged him because you wanted to get his mind off of whatever was bothering him

your teasing was light hearted, and you never had bad intentions

but when you wouldn’t stop asking for kisses, started whining at him after he said he didn’t wanna give you kisses, and then sat yourself right on top of him and refused to move… that’s when he got fed up

and yet you kept it up

jeongin decided he needed to do something drastic

and of course he’d never hurt you and he wasn’t truly mad, but he did need to teach you a lesson

so… he set his hands on your hips, looking up at you from where you were seated on his lap, facing him

and he asked if you would move

when you said “no” once again, he squeezed your hips like his life depended on it

you shrieked and fell to the side, trying to squirm away from his evil hands as they tickled you mercilessly

as jeongin pinned you down and made you laugh until you couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t help but think about how you deserved this

whatever, it was fun so you just decided to be even more annoying in the future :)

[burningcheese-merchant]

You have single handedly converted me into a burningcheese fan and it is now my hyperfixation fuck you /j (ty for feeding me 🫶🏼), in all seriousness I saw your fics and damn your writing is good :D I'm glad I wasn't the only one thinking spice was kinda acting yandere in the story 😭also the fankids are so cute omgg 💞 I'm sorry for yapping haha, have a lovely day/afternoon/evening :)

Hehehehehehehehehehehe I dragged someone else into the cult, there is no escape, you will ship BurningCheese or face the death penalty (seriously though, thank you! I cannot stress enough how happy it makes me that my writing brings people joy. I have many more fics planned for the future because I, too, am now fixated on this ship to the point of insanity, so stay tuned! I shall feed the BurningCheese nation until my kitchen blows up)

Tbh you kind of had to have been blind to NOT notice how down bad Spice was acting in episode 6 lol. There were hints of BurningCheese in episode 5, and then for ep 6 they just decided to go ham, I guess lol. Calling her "little bird". Smiling and laughing and CELEBRATING when she busts out of jail, saying he knew she wouldn't disappoint him. Pushing her to get high with him (wtf was with him constantly bringing up "the spices in the air" and telling her to breathe them in???). Tracking her either by her smell or her aura, idk he just always knew where she had been and there's a weird implication there lol. TELLING HER TO HER FACE THAT HE WILL DESTROY EVERYTHING TO GET HER. That demonic grin and laughter when she awakens, bro is HAPPY. EXCITED. Probably popping a boner tbh lmao. BurningCheese is canon, you guys, it's crazy /j

And thank you about the fankids 😭😭😭 I know I don't draw well at all, but I try (hopefully I start to improve eventually lol). I put a lot of thought into them both and I just love them a lot 😭 I can't wait to share their stories with you all, I have so much already done or planned and I really hope people take interest and stick around to hear it all

[arcane-hotties]

Now that the preliminary polls are done, I thought it would be fun to compare the results to the last time I did this:

Unfortunately, for the men, sample size was significantly smaller, so idk if I can say for sure this signifies broader trends. But let's pretend it does.

Viktor won again, with Ekko in second again, although both their vote shares decreased. I guess there are just more hot guys this season to grab people's votes. Jayce jumped from fifth place to third. His season 2 crisis served him well. Silco dropped from third to fourth, and Vander from fourth to sixth. He was overtaken by a dark horse contender, Scar. Though Singed's vote share increased, it sadly wasn't enough to keep him in the running. He got bumped by newcomers Loris and the apparition of Kino. I'll have to come up with some side polls to include Singed.

Voter turnout for the womens' poll, meanwhile, was higher this time. Mel displaced Sevika, which isn't surprising since she did win the season 1 tournament. Vi is still third, though her vote share dropped a lot. Those votes may have gone to Ambessa, who jumped from sixth to fourth, taking Caitlyn's old place. Caitlyn is now fifth, with newcomer Lest close behind, which means Jinx dropped from fifth to seventh. And then Maddie somehow made it into the mix.

I'll probably take my time finding good screenshots to use for the tournament, so stay tuned. Here's what the match-ups are going to look like:

I want to have more fun this time around... I'm trying to think of ways to inject some shenanigans into the tournament... no promises for how things will go, maybe it'll all just be straightforward... we'll see...

[blood-grove]

ruffled feathers

avian/harpy! ghost & soap + child! naga reader

tws; broken bones, near death experience, angst, kidnapping?, idk if this would count as DDD :( its jut overall a dark au take on avian and the world they live in, .

a/n; yeah this one is really heavy compared to my other ones stay safe, also my interpitation of harpies are the ones that have normal human arms and a set of wings but everything else about them is cryptid like

I really hate how stupid I was sometimes, I thought if I could just reach the nest get the eggs I'd be done head back down and enjoy the small feast along with all the other things you've foraged today.

The further I went the more painfully exposed I felt glancing around anxiously before reaching the nest digging threw it snatching up the eggs I could grab stuffing a few in my mouth already before starting down the tree a bit unevenly trying not to drop the eggs or fall.

My tail subconsciously wrapping around a branch as I almost had reached the bottom—

Only to have some huge slam into me the bark of the tree digging into my tail as it attempt to try and hold on my brain registering what the hell was going on till there was loud snap and crunch and my own scream of agony till my tail went limp and I was snagged away from the tree a few branches snapping and creak in the process.

Pain radiating threw my body like I had been crushed like a tin can, I was in the air.

I was in the air?

Did I die that quick is this heaven?

"Hope your still alive down there."

That gravely voice was clear indication I wasn't in heaven and possibly in hell.

Simon honestly did not know why he had picked up the small thing he could barely tell if it was still in his talons grip the ragged breaths and tired sobs it started to let out were a great reminder to him.

The thing would barely even be a snack honestly but better than nothing Soap needed that food badly ever since the loveable idiot broke his wing its been critical to nurse him back to health of course Price and Gaz also helped but they also had there own lives own territories so it was usually down to him to help.

Whatever the Owl Harpy could grab he'd bring back ranging from larger to smaller prey.

Small centaurs, hybrids, humans.

You name he's probably killed it.

But right the task at hand feeding Johnny.

Another few eerily quiet wing beats and he was back on track.

Landing on the ground couldn't have been fun from the little snake he hoped it broke or passed on already lifting his talon to examine the snake making sure it didn't look like it was infected the last he needed was to give Johnny food poisoning.

When he saw the little thing stirring out of its unconscious state he sighed rolling his eyes as his talons popped unlocking from around the little snake that started to sob again as I picked it up it weighed decently he hoped it wouldn't put up much of a fight for Soap.

Not his fault the thing decided to keep living usually he aims for the head or body the force of him pouncing and the whiplash of being torn away from where ever they wear would stun them long enough or kill them.

"P-please let me go-"

"What?"

God it was a mess its left arm clearly limp and useless as of now bruises blooming on there body and the few smaller cuts on there tail no doubt either from the tree he yanked it out of.

"Please it hurts—"

Simon just ignored it as he went into the interior of there little nest outpost enough room for wing spans but small enough to conserve heat as he tuned out the Naga's begs and sobs looking to see if Soap was awake finding the man stretching out his uninjured wing perking up at the sight of Simon with a smile.

"Ghost! Ah thought ye'd be gone for a few more days?

"Wasn't findin' much food out South brought ya' a snack though-"

Simon slightly waved the weakly squirming naga Soap grimacing a bit.

"Why is it still alive?"

"Thought it died on the way here guess not, What? Need your food chewed up like a fledgling?"

"Shuddup! Whatever give it-"

Simon grinned as he pulled the snake away out of reach chuckling as at Soap's huff.

"Please d-don't eat me.."

"It can still talk?"

"Yeah?"

"God's Si ye' sick bastard just crush it already you know how I feel about you toying with food- Espcially young ones-"

"Alright alright-"

"Please don't kill me I-I'm sorry!-"

Soap just huffed making a grabbing motion towards Simon as he begrudgingly handed the sobbing thing over.

"God it's barely got any meat on it."

"Best thing I could find when winters coming around the corner soon enough.."

"Can't we just..let it go?"

"And let it just freeze to death up here in the mountains sure-" Simon grinned as he looked down at Soap who just glared back up at him from the nest of pelts loose feathers fallen feathers along with whatever other makeshift bedding they've collected.

"Not what I mean but I guess you make a decent point.."

Soap sighed as he looked a down at the small naga who sobbed and whimpered.

"I- Well I can't kill them Si-"

"Alright I will then-"

"No!- I.."

"Soap..You need food you haven't even in a couple of days and neither have I.."

"Well..can't you get..something else?.."

"..Fine but I'm going to eat them then-"

Soap flinched at this subconsciously tugging the naga closer much to the pain and bewilderment of the child and there broken arm.

"For the gods sake Soap!- Do not make me take that thing away it's a waste of heat and air were already struggling to eat anyways and you haven't been healing well-"

Simon grumbled rubbing his temple as he sighed heavily.

"Please Johnny."

Soap shifted as he looked down at the writhing form in his arms there snake half had constricted barely around his leg in a attempt to force him to let go which did not work as he basically ignored them as he frowned.

"I-..Can't we keep em' Si?"

"No"

"But just look at the poor thing- Look I- Please-"

Simon just just sighed as he turned his feathers ruffling as he picked up a satchel.

"I'm going to go find some more food and some berries or whatever if I can..If you haven't eaten it by then, Then fine you can keep it or whatever but it's not eating our food."

Soap frowned slightly but he took it as a fair enough deal grinning slightly as he looked over to the little naga that had passed out either from pain or shock.

When he looked up Ghost was gone leaving him alone again.

Well not completely.

I could barely register anything that was going on the next time I woke the pain in my arm had gone down surprising a sour tart taste in my mouth either from the lack of water so far or blood.

I was warm,

Like unnaturally warm.

It kept me still the pervious cold that had been biting at my body was gone it made me lethargic looking around I noticed my arm was a in a makeshift sling.

It felt nice..It would feel nice if I didn't feel eyes on me.

"..Ye alive little snake?"

I shifted away slightly letting a raspy hiss.

"Thought so, Y'know ye know A dinnae want tae eat ye honestly yer very small skin an bones"

"I wanna leave"

"You can't really not with that broken arm..You sound parched as hell let me get some water.."

Soap smiled softly shifting a bit as he got up heading over to a part of of the cave coming back with a small bowl full cool clear water.

"Theres a spring that leaks into her..should be cool enough."

Soap sat infront of me as I glared trying to slither back as he pushed the bowl towards me.

"C'mon.."

I just hissed again as I coiled up grumbled ignoring his offer He sighed mumbled before shuffling back to his spot.

This was gonna be a long night.

a/n: WHY DID I MAKE THIS ONE SO LONG ITS SUPPOSED OT BE SHORTER THAN THIS...idk if i wanan make a pt 2 tried keeping it 1st person for reader i default to 'You' a lot bad habit.

[kazumist]

EPISODE 7 ★ FUZZY FEELING

FAKE IT TILL WE MAKE IT — A SCARAMOUCHE SMAU

masterpost / prev ep / next ep / timestamps don't matter

scaramouche must have been crazy.

seriously? a date? it was the last thing you expected! however, if you were going to pretend to be a couple, going on dates is actually a given. and like you said in your message to him:

we both have to suck it up.

even if that means having your first date with the guy you hate.

luckily enough, the awkward ride to the aquarium ended faster than you expected. but now that you’re here, how does one enjoy an aquarium date anyway? or what does one even talk about on their first date in general?

these were the questions running through both of your heads as you mindlessly wandered around.

“hey,” scaramouche starts.

“hmm?”

“this fish looks a lot like childe for some reason.”

when you turned to look at what he was looking at, you seriously had to hold back a loud laugh. because why does the fish actually look like childe? “that’s a clownfish, right?” you ask him.

“you know about these things?”

“not really; i just watched finding nemo back then as a kid.”

“oh wait, here’s the description. yeah, it’s a clownfish, and it seems like even their description fits childe even more,” scaramouche says, pointing his head at a podium nearby with his hands inside his pockets.

“clownfish are active and territorial fish with an erratic swimming pattern who sometimes appear to be doing acrobatics while defending the area around their anemone," you read aloud. “see? it fits him perfectly.”

“are you saying childe seems to do acrobatics sometimes?”

“no, i’m saying that he’s way too hyper for his own good.”

“isn’t that supposed to be venti, though?”

“they’re practically the same kind; does it really matter who is who?”

you laugh at his response. 

maybe this isn’t so bad. just maybe.

with the sun almost setting, your little trip to the aquarium ends, and you both decide to stop by a cafe on the way home.

but unfortunately, the awkward tension comes back.

what now? are you supposed to say, “hey, i had fun today,” and just move along? are you supposed to ask, “so how did the date go for you? did you have fun like i did?” you couldn’t find the right words to say, but you couldn’t stand this awkward atmosphere either.

“i… kinda had fun today.”

can this guy read minds or something?

"likewise."

time flew by faster than you expected, and now you were walking out of the cafe with scaramouche. “thanks for today, even though i was kinda against it at first,” you said.

“i hope you realize that we have to do this often if we really want to be convincing.”

“yeah, yeah, i get it. give me a break. who would’ve thought that i would be going on a date with you, of all people?”

“why do you sound so icked by the thought of going out with me?” he rolled his eyes.

“because i am icked by it, smart ass.”

“says the one who equally enjoyed the day like i did?”

“sorry, my pride is too high to make me admit that i actually enjoyed your company.”

he shakes his head at your response. how very… likely of you to say such a thing.

“i guess this is goodbye, then?” scaramouche asks.

“yeah. why? do you not want the day to end?”

“don’t put words into my mouth.”

“you didn’t really deny it, you know.”

“why are you like this?” 

“why shouldn’t i be like this?”

from your peripheral vision, you could see a familiar sight of blue-ish white hair as well as a blonde walking nearby. since they didn’t really know that this wasn’t real, you acted out of impulse. but what did you do exactly?

you kissed scaramouche on the cheek and waved him goodbye, just like that.

extra notes.

i didn't expect this chapter to be so long uhm idk im 50/50 on the narrations bc deadass it was hard 2 write for me ... OTL

theyre kinda getting close! emphasize on kinda though

more silly little romance in the next chapter haha pls stay tuned

synopsis.

what happens when scaramouche, your rival since the first year of highschool, had some annoying admirers on his back? easy—he (fake) dates you to shoo them off. nothing can possibly go wrong with faking a relationship with the guy you hate, right?

spoiler: apparently, a lot can go wrong.

taglist (open): @niiheng @yinyinggie @ilyuu @veekoko @motherscrustytoenailclippings @the-ghost-0f-t0m0 @akairaindrops @kichiyoshi @lxkeeeee @user11918163805279 @sketcheeee @yukiipc @kyouzki @quokkatss @ynverse @yuyumaru @danhenglovebot @sheep-from-rad @gekkow @aeongiies @scararaw @beriiov @thenightsflower @simpforsubmissivemen @sakurapeach @akxtagawaxryxn0sxke @naheana @supernova25 @mitsu-moshi @yelleloww @kiyomi-hoku @kazemiya @theblueblub @lazy-sanns

[onesidedradiostatic]

helluva boss s2e1&2 reaction

season 2. let's go

episode 1

oh my god backstory time

ah, arranged marriage

that makes sense

I see so they both worked at the circus together

the love at first sight here is crazy bro's not even doing anything

oh my god

BUY HIM???? oh this is so fucked up

this is cute

he's doing a really good job at that stealing from the rich thing though good job blitzo

this is pretty cute, if only their situations weren't so fucked up

OKAY I'M NOT SCREENSHOTTING THIS BUT THE SCENE IN THE BEDROOM WITH BLITZO AND STOLAS WHERE BLITZO IS TRYING TO STEAL THE GRIMOIRE IS KILLING ME

"sorry I fucked your husband" WHY WOULD YOU TELL HER THAT

well damn...

idk if this is controversial but can stella be allowed to like... have any singular moment where it's not just her being an asshole? like honestly I just want a bit more dimension to her than just abusive bitch wife, she can still absolutely be a classist abusive asshole and an antagonist and not likable, I just wanna see more to her y'know, another side to her? idk if I can explain myself well here, but even when being abusive to her husband, I feel like she should have moments where she acts another way when it comes to other people? other situations? idk. I am AAALL for evil women, but I feel like all we've seen of stella is just angry shouting and nothing else, I just wanna see something more than that. but like I guess I get we're only seeing her from stolas' perspective right now so it kinda makes sense...? idk I just wanna see something a bit more from her.

I mean I'm not done yet so maybe I'll get to see it soon?

episode 2

so from what I can see I'm guessing this is the episode loona and octavia meet

or well bond? they already know of each other I guess

not blitzo's confidence being crushed cause of people not laughing at him years back 😭😭 but hey I feel you man

maaan.

NOT THE FUCKING ACID WATER ON THE POSTERS EARLIER????

sweet

"why does he hate her more than he loves me" aw man

that's cute

awwww

think I'll post this and maybe group 3-5 and 6-7? but yeah really good stuff here, I liked that we got to see a bit of the fucked up origins of their backstories, starting with blitzo being bought just to please stolas and blitzo taking advantage of stolas' liking of him for his benefit, like that's how they STARTED and how they continued to be 😭😭

anyways, stay tuned 🤞