#if I didn't already feel so irritated about my job I probably wouldn't be do angry but I'm Already feeling singled out

[trans-yllz]

the after school program I work for will do long 8:30 to 4:30 days when there's no school sometimes and monday is a long day so my boss emailed everyone asking what hours they wanted and I asked to start at 10:30 but she sent out the schedule today and it has me starting at 1?? when someone else who said they're available for whatever is needed is starting at 10:30??? I'm hoping it's a mistake and I'm going to talk to her about it today but if it's Not ooooh I'm going to be so fucking angry

[swe3tte4rs]

" My mom is so beatiful! " - Batfamily x Model!Batmom headcanons

Request: Batmom headcanons where batmom’s a model & the coolest mom ever?

Author's note: Thank you anon 🫶! Here is my second request, so I hope you like it. I didn't know what to put for the title so I settled for this one.

And it will also take me a while to upload the Zatanna x reader oneshot 🤗.

Again I clarify that my main language is not English, so sorry for the spelling errors 😿.

TW: nothing!! Just fluff I think

Nightwing / Dick Grayson

Since he met you, he was fascinated with your beauty and elegance.

He loved when you went to galas and you wrapped him up in your long elegant jacket while you picked him up in your arms and let him fall asleep like that.

Dick didn't miss any of your shows or commercials.

I bet he has your older shows saved on his computer.

A model and cool mother at the same time? Wow, Dick couldn't ask for more.

You are his only support, the only one who was there and loved him no matter what.

Dick will always ask your opinion about what he wears or what haircut he will get.

He goes crazy every time he hears someone say "Your mom is hot."

"It's not my fault that my mom loves me and yours didn't love you, fucking slu-"

I feels like he would play with you by imitating your walk just to annoy you.

Always showing off his mother, yesyesyes.

The YJ and Titans members would be very jealous of him; because you treat him very nicely and send him food, without saying that you drown your son with love.

Jason Todd / Red Hood

When he was Robin he was dwarf and plump. I and other people agree 😇

Jason loves the support you give him and keep giving him.

And he also loves your delicious food, he probably asks you to prepare some for him every time he goes out on patrol.

I just imagined him (when he was Robin) bringing you a bouquet of flowers bigger than him once you finish the show, seeing you with those beautiful and big eyes 😭

I bet he sometimes got scared when he saw your face on a commercial billboard.

And he keeps doing it, only he spits out whatever he's drinking when he sees you in TV. (Without him knowing that you participated as a model in X brand)

He loves and continues to love your attacks of kisses on his face.

Yes, he would also ask you for style advice, but only once a year, he is very proud when it comes to his clothing style.

"YOU SON OF A BITCH!! HOW DARE YOU HAVE A FUCKING POSTER OF MY MOM?!?!"

Damn Jason, your mom is a model, what do you want them to do?

Tim Drake / Red Robin

He has a love-hate relationship with your love attacks.

Tim, like his other siblings, would not miss any of your shows, or the parts in which you appear.

He would help Barbara to make sure no one wants to sabotage you at one of your shows.

If given the choice between your food or the support you give him, Tim would jump off a bridge. (jk)

"Bro, can you shut the fuck up and stop saying how beautiful my mom is? I already know that."

Tim gets embarrassed every time he is with his friends and you call him (by phone XD), because you start reminding him that he is very handsome and he need to eat something. But it irritates him more when his colleagues ask to talk to you.

Damian Wayne / Robin

I think he wouldn't care about your job

He's like, the most attached to you.

After your shows he would be attached to you like a flea.

Also at the galas.

Damian was surprised that you were so kind and loving towards him despite the things he said to you before him had that mother and son connection.

I think that at first Talia wouldn't like you, but after several talks with her and assuring her that you're not going to do anything to Damian, you could even be friends.

Oh yes, he wouldn't care about your love attacks, as long as it's not in front of his friends.

"Yes mom, yes I ate the food... Yes, I know you love me. *sighs* I love you too mommy..."

You're like Jon's second mom.

His favorite days are pool or beach days, he likes to enjoy the sea while spending time with his mom.

Cassandra Cain / Orphan

Cass is the vice president of your fan club.

Cass loves you infinitely.

She has an album full of photos of you and her after the shows.

She doesn't like the idea of you parading in swimsuits.

She would always ask you for clothing tips and advice.

Cass likes, loves, and admires having a mother who understands her and can be herself with her.

She wouldn't care if you show her love in public or private. She always gives you more love back!

Skincare routine between you and her.

You always make sure that she is fashionable but also has her own style.

She would have a lot of admiration for you.

I feel like she would hardly take any notice of "your mom is hot" because she thinks they are flattery.

But if they go overboard and insult you, Cass wouldn't hesitate to give them a good beating. Nobody messes with her mommy.

I think she would have you as her wallpaper. A photo of you and her on your birthday or on her birthday.

Stephanie Brown / Spoiler

She is the President of your fan club.

Throughout the parade she is like "how boring, I want to leave" until you finally appear, it doesn't matter if the outfit you wore is ugly, she would applaud you with all her might.

"WHY DID YOU AGREE TO DO A BIKINI COMMERCIAL?!?!"

I feel like she gets angry every time anyone tell her "she's super hot" (you), and Steph is like "the nosebleed I'm going to give you is going to be hot."

Every time she sleeps over at the mansion she joins you and Cass's skincare routines.

She loves you because every time you talk there is some laughter.

Steph appreciates and adores the support you give her as a mother figure.

You rarely have love attacks towards her.

But she adores them.

Every chance she would go shopping with you.

Duke thomas / The Signal

Just let me...

Duke is your photographer.

He had a hard time opening up to you at first, but you were just great and so sweet to him.

He doesn't react like his brothers do when they tell him "your mom is hot", rather he would feel uncomfortable.

Only if they insult you would he get serious.

He likes that you are always there to support him every time he goes out on patrol or comes back from patrol.

You and Duke's connection started when you tried to get him to distract himself from the harsh reality of his biological parents, like going to the park and all that.

He is embarrassed when you have your love attacks towards him. It doesn't matter if you are alone or in public, he will be embarrassed every time you have those love attacks.

I feel that when you go with him to buy clothes, you spend a lot of time because you can't decide what clothes to buy him.

But in the end you end up buying everything for him.

Barbara Gordon / Oracle

Yes, I added Barbara, okay?

In my AU there was no love affair between her and Bruce 😇

The one in charge of making sure everything goes well at the shows.

Sometimes she sees you as her mother, sister and best friend.

Barbara always sends you messages; according to her so as not to lose contact, which is a lie because you know it is purely on a whim.

I don't think you have love attacks with her, just a simple kiss on her cheek or forehead.

Although sometimes she envied the attention you gave to your children.

Barbara would value and care for you deeply.

[You can add more headcanons if you like <3]

[theawkwardsiren]

fake dating - Veneer x F!Reader (fluff)

summary - Veneer asks you to be his fake girlfriend to help him ward off crazy fangirls and get the press off his back. however, your feelings are real and he doesn't know.

warnings - little bit angst, just a little bit

a/n: i need, need, NEED more Veneer content

Your inability to say no to Veneer is what actually landed you in this position. You knew it would probably not end well, but you said yes anyway because you'd do anything to help him and make him happy.

After all, how could you possibly say no when he came in one day singing your name, draping himself around you and batting his pretty eyes?

-

"(Name)~"

Your head instantly snapped up at the sing-song call of your name, heart fluttering at the sight of the green-haired teen. Butterflies formed in your stomach as he approached, worsening when he leaned over your desk to put his face close to yours.

"I have a favour to ask, darling," he practically purred, laying on the charm thick. "There's this problem I've been having with the public and it's getting super annoying, so I need you to fix it."

"Of course," you answered without hesitation, "What is it?"

"I need you to...be my fake girlfriend!" He proposed, making jazz hands as he did. His eyes gleamed with excitement, but you weren't sure why.

Your own eyes widened, almost choking on your saliva as you heard his words. Where on earth had that come from? Did he really mean it? Was he really asking-

"Earth to (Name)!" Veneer waved his hand in front of your face, amused at the shocked expression. "Oh come on, anyone would kill to date me! I mean...fake date me." He didn't sound very enthusiastic about the last part.

You swallowed thickly, weighing your options. You could get chewed out by Velvet for not assisting - which is your job - and risk losing whatever connection you have with Veneer. Or you could do your job and make the twins happy, while suffering from knowing that it could never be real.

"I'll do it."

-

The public went insane after hearing pop star Veneer had a girlfriend. After showing your face on the red carpet with him at an event, your face was all over the news and social media. Your followers skyrocketed, and soon everyone in Mount Rageous knew your name.

Which wouldn't have been bad if your relationship was actually real. Veneer was so affectionate and loving - or maybe just good at faking it - that you were finding it increasingly difficult to keep it a pretend relationship. Behind closed doors he would pull away, go back to being his usual self and forget you existed. And it hurt, a lot.

But what else could you do? You had to deal with it, and you dealt with it most times in your office, away from the obnoxious twins. You were careful not to have them walk in when you were upset or crying, because you knew they would just get irritated. Well Velvet would, Veneer might ask if you were okay, but that's if he wasn't with his sister.

"I cannot believe this is actually working," Velvet scoffed one day as you helped them get ready for another event. "It was such a stupid idea."

You tried to keep your composure as you finished doing her hair, but Veneer's words almost made you break it.

"Oh please, the public is eating it up! And I get to ward off crazy fans without actually having to be in a relationship. It's a win-win!"

Their conversation was very much slapping you in the face repeatedly, but you had to maintain a calm demeanor until you were done.

"There, all ready," you smiled, but it didn't quite meet your eyes. Which Veneer noticed, along with how your voice cracked. "Good luck out there, I'll just be in my office."

Before either of them could respond you were gone, finding refuge in the safe and comforting environment your office provided. Thinking the twins were already gone, you finally let the tears fall and slumped into your chair, burying your face in your hands. Little did you know, the male twin was standing right outside and could hear every sniffle and every sob you thought you kept down.

"VENEER!"

The shout startled you, and when you heard the sound of frantic footsteps fading, a horrible realisation hit you. Veneer had heard you.

-

After a few days of avoiding speaking to him any more than you had to, you finally worked up the courage to tell him you wanted this to stop, that you couldn't do it anymore.

"Veneer...this isn't working anymore," you couldn't even look him in the eyes as you said it, "I think your fans have gotten the point. We can stop now."

The boy looked pretty nonchalant on the outside, but he was panicking on the inside. Why were you saying all this? What was he doing wrong? Did you really hate the idea of dating him that much? Did this have anything to do with why he heard you crying in your office the other day?

"I don't understand," he frowned.

"I can't keep fake dating you for the rest of my life," you continued, "I want to have a real relationship, with someone who really loves me."

Your words were like a punch to his gut, knocking all the wind out of him. You had never known, but the green-haired pop star had always been in love with you, since you joined them as their assistant. The thought of you wanting someone else made his stomach churn unpleasantly.

That's why he had no idea why or how the words that he said next came out of his mouth.

"Then date me. For real."

Your jaw dropped, also unable to believe he just said that, "Veneer-"

"I want you, (Name), and I'm tired of pretending," he started moving closer, "I know I haven't exactly showed it, but I was scared you wouldn't feel the same way. I also don't want to keep pretending, but I don't want to see you with someone else. I want us to be real."

You were stunned into silence, trying to comprehend his words. You'd never expected him to feel that way about you, so now that he was here and confessing, it felt like a dream.

"I'm dreaming, right?" You asked, but the clock on your wall said otherwise.

"You dream of me?" He teased, hand reaching out to find yours.

"Every night," you admitted, heart skipping a beat. "I can't tell you how long I've been waiting to hear those words from you."

"Yeah?" He smiled, a genuine smile, "Cause I've been waiting a while to say them."

To say you were happy would be an understatement. The joy that flooded you was incomparable, and you immediately went to hug him, but he had other ideas. Your lips met, and it was the best feeling you'd ever experience. His lips were soft, warm, and tasted like mint. His spindly arms encircled your waist, pulling you to him so your chests met, head tilted to kiss you deeper. Your own arms wound around his neck, everything inside you turning to mush at the feeling of kissing the boy you have been insanely in love with for the longest time.

When you finally parted, you were both breathless and smiling like idiots in love. Which you were.

"I can't wait to do that on the red carpet," he managed to breathe out, turning your face that same colour.

And kiss you on the red carpet he did.

This boy is clingy, and extremely affectionate, which is what you loved about him. So he was kissing you every chance he got, showing you off to the world for real and clinging to you whenever you were at events. He was inseparable from you from the moment he confessed, which you didn't mind.

This was your dream, and you were finally living it.

[francis-writes]

In the dungeons

Judge Claude Frollo x fem!reader

Smut. I might got carried away.

You were standing in the hall of Palace of Justice, nervous and shivering. Not only it was cold there but also you never liked this place, it made you feel uneasy. Maybe it was the thought about all the people who were tortured and sentenced to cruel death in this building that caused your antipathy. In normal circumstances you would never come there but you needed to see your husband. He wasn't one of the poor prisoners - but who knows if it wouldn't be better for you. Your husband was no other than the infamous judge Claude Frollo.

Honestly, you wasn't worried when your parents decided that you should married him. Though his old age, in your opinion judge was still handsome and his authority and coldness somehow only made him more attractive to you. It was hard to decide whether you're friends were more frightened or disgusted when you told them about who's gonna be your husband but you always had a thing for older man. Well, maybe there was something wrong with you but at least you had fun.

I mean... for some time.

You shouldn't complain about your marriage. Frollo provided you safe, wealthy and comfortable life. You lived in grand mansion in Paris, without any duties, large group of servants helped you in everything and they were at your command. You could have almost anything, Claude was very lavish with you and he was willing to fulfil your every whim. He was smart, handsome, he cared about you and treated you with respect... your life was almost perfect. Except for one little detail. You felt lonely.

It sounded stupid but that's how it was. Your husband was very reserved and he rarely showed you any affection. He spent most of the time at work and when he came home, he was talking about his job. This... you could even understand. Due to the difference of age and passions between you, there was little amount of topic that interested both of you. But you talked with your friends. You always found yourself something interesting to do in your free time so you didn't need your husband to accompany you at the day. But at night - there was the problem. 

Claude didn't avoid his marital duties, he probably enjoyed them but you couldn't stand how boring and conservative your love life was. Sometimes you noticed a glimpse of desire in Frollo's eyes. You knew you were beautiful and your husband wasn't made of stone. But the bigot in him looked for sin in any pleasant activity and that's why sex between you always was so modest. And dull.

You were young and hungry for life - that's why you decided to visit your husband in work. You hoped that you'd be able to convince him to going home earlier than usual.

You knocked to the door of Frollo's office. Hearing cold "Come in", you entered the room with a bit of a worry and a bit of excitement mixed in your heart. He was sitting behind a desk, reading documents but when you came, he stopped working and looked at you surprised. 

"Y/n? What are you doing here?" Frollo asked with a note of irritation in his voice.

"I, uhmmm...." your throat became dry as you wondered what to say. Your husband had another disadvantage (though it was certainly very useful skill during interrogating prisoners): in his presence you always felt litlle and insecure, as if Claude was not your husband but an inquisitor arresting you.

(Fact that it was turning you on didn't help)

"I just wanted to see you" you finally said, immediately realizing how stupid it sounded.

Your husband raised an eyebrow.

"You saw me at morning and you would see me at evening when I come home. Is it not enough of my company for you?"

Oh God, it was bad idea. You tried frantically to find a good explanation for your visit.

"am I bothering you here?" You asked.

"No, not really" Claude steepled his hands "I simply thought you had an important reason to visit me"

You blushed. Well, this discussion was already awkward so you decided to be absolutely honest. What bad could happen? (Probably a lot of things but you didn't want to think about this now)

"So, I know this isn't the best moment to talk about this but I feel like I don't attract you"

(That wasn't actually true but it sounded better than "you're a goddamn prude and I want you to pound me as if your life depended on it")

"What?" Judge asked in a shocked tone.

"When we're together you seem so distant and cold... I understand that you have a reputation to uphold but... even when we are in bedroom-" God, you could feel your cheeks getting redder and redder "you... you don't seem interested and sometimes I feel that if we didn't spend nights together, it wouldn't make you any difference"

You felt silent, waiting for answer. Probably your husband would scold you for talking about such things in his work.

Claude looked at you, full of thoughts and inner turmoil. To say he didn't desire you was a complete lie. Since the very first moment he saw you, he thought you were incredibly beautiful and he looked forward for your wedding night. And after it, his feelings only intensified but he tried to hold back his desires and restrict his love life to make sure that he doesn't commit sin of leacherousness but the sight of you standing in front of him, blushing, made him forget about his doubts. Suddenly he had a wicked idea. If you felt that he doesn't desire you.. maybe it was a good time to show you what he fantasised about?

"I think that I can fulfill your needs" he said, getting up. "Just come with me".

You followed him, titillation and impatience seething in you, especially that you went down the stairs to the floor where prison cells and torture chambers were located.

When you entered one of the dungeons, Claude hanged the torch on a wall and locked the door.

"Why-" you wanted to ask but he interrupted you.

"I'm making sure that no one will find us. I have a reputation to uphold"

His stern voice and a little smirk on his face when he looked at you, made you shiver. Though you weren't sure whether it was a caused by fear or by excitement.

"Are you absolutely sure you want to see what I dream about when I look at you?"

You replied without hesitation.

"Yes"

"Then take off your clothes " he ordered. You blushed as you always made love in darkened room, under the sheets, but you began to take off your dress. You weren't going to disobey your husband, especially not now.

When you were finally naked, Frollo stood there for a moment in silence, eyeing you up as if he wanted to note every inch of your body in his memory. He probably still tried to hold his mask of a pious judge, but his face, his eyes, were barely hiding his desire and long tamed lust.

Finally Claude came closer and grasped your hands, then handcuffed them above your head. Position was highly uncomfortable but you didn't make a sound, wondering what would happen next. You could see a lot of different torture devices around the room (honestly you didn't even have idea how some of them worked) that only increased your fear.

You weren't able to turn your head much and see what's happening behind you, you could only hear footsteps of your husband so first lash of the whip was unexpected. You screamed loudly as ineffable pain pierced your back. You still couldn't see Claude but you had an impression that you heard a pleased gasp.

"I want you to count strikes while I'll be punishing you". And after a moment of consideration, he added "ehm, if you feel that you can't take it anymore... and you want to already stop, just say 》red《. Nothing else will stop me. Crying, groaning, whining, begging for mercy will be ignored. You understand?"

"Yes" you whispered. Your back felt as if it was in fire and you had no energy to speak but somehow... You wanted more.

"Speak louder, I can't hear you. And call me 》Your honor《. Clear?"

"Yes, your honor"

Then another strike hit you.

"Two!" You shouted, tears streamed down your face. Your voice was shaking, your back was burning, your arms ached because now you were almost hanging on them.

Another strike.

"Three!"

Now you openly started sobbing and whimpering.

"I am s-s-so sorry, your honor... I beg you, have m-mercy on me... I will d-do whatever you w-want!"

Frollo put bat aside and embraced you, with no regard for your hurt back. His one hand caressed your skin, wandering from your thighs, belly and spending longer time between your breasts. He buried his face in you hair, enjoying the  moment. After a while he rested his head on yours, pressing cruelly his body to your suffering back.

"If you're begging so desperately... I will have mercy"

He stood in front of you and freed your hands. You fell on your knees, too sore to stand.

Frollo smiled, enjoying the feeling of power that punishing people was giving him. He took of his robe and pants. Standing naked in the light of the torch made him feel uncomfortable but thought of having sex in clothes was simply unappealing for him.

He put his hand in your hair, stroking it gently.

"I'm lucky to have such obedient wife" he murmured.

You raised your head and looked up at him, with tears streaming down your face.

"Will you..." you gulped, unused to talking openly about intimate things with your husband. Ironically, you talked  about it with your friends, especially before wedding, trying to guess how your married life's gonna look like - but never with the one person it concerned. "Will you take me now... your honor?"

He crouched and took your chin if his hand.

"I thing you deserved it" Claude leaned over and kissed you. He never did it so passionately, aggresively even, before. At some point he bit your lip. You pulled of, surprised with sudden pain. You touched your lip. After seeing blood on your fingers you looked at your husband who was observing you carefully, and smiled. God, honestly you used to think about Frollo punishing you and having sex in dungeons but it felt much better than you could ever imagine. You wrapped your hands around his slender waist and sank in his lips. His hands were roaming your body, causing a pleasant shiver. You could barely breathe but you didn't want to interrupt the moment. After a moment you tried to pull Claude on the floor but he stopped you.

"No" he said standing up and grabbing your hand "there's a better place"

He led you to a massive table - or rather a rack - in the corner. As far as you were concerned, prisoner's hands and ankles were fastened to rollers on devices ends and executioner was stretching victims body until it caused excruciating pain.

"Get on it" Frollo ordered and you obediently followed his command. He began tying your hands to the rack.

"Are you gonna use it on me?" You asked jokingly but with a bit of anxiety. After all, you didn't know how far Claude wanted to take this game. Well, he told you that you can stop whenever you want and you supposed you can trust him.

"Maybe another time" he replied in a serious tone and kissed your neck, sucking on a delicate skin. Then he crawled on the top of you and stroked his member a few times until it got hard. He didn't fasten your legs to the table so you wrapped them around his hips.

"Are you ready your honor?"

He nodded with cocky smile and entered you.

It wasn't painful like the first time. For a long time it was awaited moment and you loved feeling him inside you, thrusting, feeling his warm breath on your neck and hearing quiet moans, proving that as much as he doesn't like to show this, your husband enjoys what you're doing. Usually your hands were wandering along his back, sometimes scratching it, but this time you were restrained and you could only arch your back when pleasure was too overhelming.

Finally, Claude came and fell on your body, breathing heavily. You wanted to move hair from his wet forehead but with tied hands, you could only raise your head a bit and kiss his cheek. Frollo kissed your lips and smiled.

"I love you, y/n. You know it right?" He said and you felt surprised. Of course, he was your husband but Claude rather avoided talking about feelings so you had to guess if he has any affection for you. This confession made your heart warm.

"I know, Claude, I know" you smiled. "And by the way, we need to do it more often"

[smytherines]

Hey, I saw that you were bored, and I am also bored, so have an ask! Your Owen headcanons are great, so I was wondering if you have any about Owen's interest in acting/theatre?

It's one of the things that's really interesting to me about his character, even though it only gets a brief mention in canon.

Sorry if you've answered something like this already!

Ooooooooo this is such a good ask

It's weird, because despite being a hardcore theatre kid myself (I spent ages 8-18 in a community theatre program doing 2 plays and a musical every year), I always tend to see Owen's interest in acting in relation to my autistic Owen headcanon, as allegorical instead of literal acting/theatre.

Although in my experience, masked autistic people make excellent actors because it's what we do all the time anyways- every social interaction is a performance. We finesse ways to deliver lines, body language, tone of voice. I have to physically stop myself from rocking or swaying. I say combinations of words I've memorized from TV, delivered in the style of whatever actor's delivery is most appealing to me. Before I was diagnosed I used to joke that I built my public personality around Lauren Graham's line deliveries in Gilmore Girls. (I also routinely quote that show in social interactions)

It's exhausting, but I can more or less be at a social event for a few hours and seem ~normal~ and then come home and fall apart. The only time I feel like I can really unmask is when I'm totally alone, and the more time I spend with others (even people I love and adore!) The more irritated I get, the more quickly I melt down, the less I'm able to keep up the "I'm totally normal" facade I've constructed.

Obviously I'm 1000% projecting onto this character, but that's kinda how I see Owen and how I write him. I mean he literally is masked for most of the show, the acting, the way he speaks and his body language changing based on who he's around and what he's doing, him putting on personas and playing characters, the specific way he speaks with his hands, the way he seems to fixate on certain interests and ideas and ideological positions, the way they emphasize his interest in details, just so much of that feels familiar to me.

I do think he probably would've enjoyed acting. It saved my life. I wouldn't have survived without learning how to be someone else, someone other people don't immediately reject. For a second I thought maybe he could've been involved in vaudeville as a teenager, like Cary Grant, but vaudeville was on its way out by the early 30s so that doesn't seem likely. He'd be too young for it.

But I imagine he really liked to read plays, even if he didn't necessarily have a way to act or to see theatre as a kid/young adult. I think in the chwm epilogue I wrote about him buying a used copy of Pygmalion (unless I deleted that in editing, I can't remember). I think he probably read a lot and listened to radio plays and listened to BBC News to perfect his respectable posh accent.

I've had a headcanon for awhile now that Curt and Owen used to have sneaky little late night movie dates, because they just both love movies so much. Curt loves the action and the fantasy, the heroics of 1950s cinema, probably westerns, war films, musicals. Owen likes noir, and sci-fi, and british kitchen sink social dramas (those might be a *bit* late for him but the precursors for that), and is fascinated with the mechanics of acting, picking things apart, like he almost sees it as research for their jobs.

That's mostly just because I love classic films from the 30s-60s and now any time I watch something that came out during their time period I find myself wondering how those characters would react to it.

To me, in my little headcanon, Owen Carvour meticulously built this image of the perfect dashing confident charming British spy. And eventually he meets Curt and he trusts Curt, he sees that they have these similar rough edges that they hide with arrogance and vanity, that they are both playing a role. Curt is the first person who more or less experiences the world the way Owen does- filtering out the unacceptable parts of themselves to get by.

Curt is the only person he ever feels safe even partially letting the act drop with. Not all the way, they could never be 100% vulnerable with each other like that. But enough that Owen feels... safe with Curt. Not just about their secret (although yes also that), but Curt is the only person Owen allows to see any vulnerability, any trace of who he really is. It's part of why what Curt does feels like such a betrayal, why Owen can't move past it. Because he had a relative safe harbor, one person on earth he trusted, and it nearly got him killed.

[maochira]

hehehehehheheheheheheh

can i request reader x demon!barou? ;; and maybe as an extra secnario where reader keeps asking stupid questions about the demon body parts (e.g.: "can you feel it if I touch your horns" "could you lift something with your tail") ykyk

love ya pupsi dupsi mwah

I LOVE THAT SCENARIO HELP

Requests open! - event list

Tags: gn!reader x demon!Barou

First meeting

It's not much more than a regular morning for you. Everything has been going as always. Just when you're in your kitchen to have breakfast, you can't manage to open the jam jar, no matter how hard you try. Out of nowhere, a deep voice asks "You need help with that?" and when you raise your head, you see a tall demon standing in front of you. Of course, that startles you so much that you immediately drop the jar and it shatters into countless tiny pieces on the ground. "That's a great start..." The demon mockingly mumbles under his breath.

General headcanons

-everything about Barou's demon features is big. His wings almost reach the ground (but he keeps them folded most of the time), his horns grow out a little above his forehead and they're like 15cm big and his tail is dragon-like and has a row of spikes going down

-you always fear he's going to accidentally knock something over, but Barou has learned how to be careful, so nothing ever happens. He probably knocked something over once when you weren't around but he'd never admit that he messed something up

-even though his actual job is just to keep you company, Barou does a lot of your housework just because he thinks you can't manage to do everything on your own. At some point, he ends up doing all of it so there's nothing left for you to do

-you jokingly call him your maid sometimes, but every time he starts holding you a speech about what his job is, that you should be thankful for him, and that he'd "leave you if he wasn't connected to you now" (he wouldn't, he got emotionally attached to you after two days)

How you fell in love with each other

You were the first one to fall for him, and it didn't take long. Maybe two weeks? You were almost constantly around each other, after all. Although, you didn't plan on confessing those feelings because you didn't know if you were allowed to date him anyways. After a few more weeks, Barou slowly found himself falling for you as well but he kept denying it as soon as the thought popped up. Although at some point, he got irritated with pushing those feelings away. And since he's going to be stuck with you for who knows how long - possibly forever - he decided he should just tell you how he feels. He already noticed how much you liked him a while ago anyways.

Extra scenario (before you started dating)

"Do you feel that?" You ask while reaching out your hand to touch one of Barou's horns. "I told you not to touch me without asking first." Barou growls while pushing your hand away. "And no, I don't feel that. I already told you I don't have nerves in my horns." - "Okay but..." You reach your hand out once again, this time towards one of Barou's wings, "Do you-" - "Stop touching me!" Barou almost yells as he pushes your hand away once again. Seeing him so easily irritated is funny to you, so you can't help but burst out in laughter. "Okay, okay, sorry." - "What did I do to deserve being stuck with you..." Barou mumbles under his breath and gets ready to continue whatever he was doing before. But you could swear there's at least a slight blush on his face.

Taglist (sign-up link): @kaineedstherapy12 @zyuuuu @luvcalico @remy-roll @truegoist @vanitasbrainrot @weichspuelertrinker @acacIa @kermitslefteyeball11 @futuristicxie @bluelock4life @https-archangel @userwithlotsoftime @slowlyholypeanut @isagikisser

[dckweed]

well hidey ho, been a minute. I've had a rough few weeks and I'm not 100% sure I'm totally in love with this part for Sugar Sweet but it's okay because i know it's building up to something. How are yall doing? Also, my requests are OPEN for any top gun asks.

warnings: mentions of weight and poor body image, but that's about it. this whole part is literally just Jake and sugar being oddly domestic bc for some reason the thought of Jake being a domestic kinda guy just feels right.

summary: you and jake have breakfast on a rare day off for both of you.

word count: 2,512

SUGAR SWEET, part two.

"GOD DAMMIT, BECKY!"

Irritated as you were by the man showing up at your door, and even more irritated by Pete thinking you could get along, you knew that you didn't have a choice. You couldn't afford not to have a roommate, not with the giant stack of over due bills piling up on the desk in your living room. You trusted Maverick's judgement about his character, he seemed nice enough as annoying as you had a feeling he could be just off your last few interactions with him, he also seemed like a pretty straight shooter and you felt like that would be good company to have around your brother after what your last roommate had been doing behind your back. 

The tour of your home was short, you lived in a small three bedroom cottage, just three houses over from Penny, and there wasn't much of it to see. You had shown him around the kitchen, to the shared bathroom and had let him look around the second biggest bedroom that had once been yours, but would now be his. After running over his shared portion of the bills, and letting him know that you didn't mind cooking for him as long as he chipped in on groceries, you two shook hands and called it a day. 

A couple days has passed since he'd moved in, and honestly, you'd been working so late the past couple of days that you hadn't even noticed him. Your brother said that he liked him well enough, he thought his job was the coolest thing ever (which seemed to boost Jake's ego more than it needed to) and he seemed to enjoy having him around, something you couldn't be mad at. 

You were up early on your fourth day of having Jake as a roommate, early enough that you assumed he was already on base, because he always seemed to leave in the dark, early hours of the morning, and definitely early enough that your brother was still asleep. It was Saturday, he wouldn't be up until well after ten in the morning. It also happened to be one of your rare days off, and you were planning to go use your free membership perk at the gym, but not before making breakfast. 

The kitchen was probably your favorite place in the house, it wasn't the biggest or the nicest by any means, but it had always been somewhere that felt like home to you, especially when it held so many happy memories of your father. Knowing that your brother slept like a boulder, you didn't have any qualms about turning on your bluetooth speakers and letting your favorite playlist play through them, singing along happily to the lyrics as you cracked eggs and drizzled oil on the bottom of your biggest skillet to start some hashbrowns and peppers together. 

The smell of food is what woke him up first, the aroma of the peppers roasting in the pan and some bacon frying hitting his senses like a god send. Jake hadn't had a proper home-cooked breakfast in a while, and just the thought of it drove him to swing his legs over the side of the king size mattress he had bought and shuffle over to his dresser, that had clearly been your own at point. He shoved his legs into a pair of gym shorts, he figured you would find it impolite of him to go wondering about in his underwear in your own and he was all about being a gentleman. 

As he made his way down the hallway, the music is what perked his ears up. He grunted a little, running a hand through his surely messy hair as he made his way into the living room, he was too tall to look through the breakfast bar slot without needing to crouch so he rounded the corner, stopping in his tracks as his eyes found you. He had to admit, you were quite the sight dancing in an extremely oversized t-shirt with what looked like nothing but panties on underneath, your thighs on full display. He had to tear his eyes away for a moment, afraid he was going to pop a boner as he watched you bend over to grab something from one of the lower cabinets, singing along perfectly to whichever song was coming through the speakers. You looked relaxed, he dared to say that you even looked happy, like you thoroughly belonged right there in that moment and something about that was insanely breathtakingly beautiful to him. 

He could have watched you like that for hours, but he knew that would be creepy and that you would probably catch him at any second. Jake clears his throat, leaning against the door way on his shoulder. "So, Sugar, do you do this often?" He asks, hiding a chuckle as you jump and turn, your eyes narrowed. 

Jake had scared the absolute shit out of you, but you weren't about to show him that. "Make breakfast? Yeah, every morning." You say, rolling your eyes. "Do you always walk around without a shirt on?" You turned your head back to the stove, hoping he wouldn't notice the blush creeping along your cheeks. He looked good standing there like that, his entire toned stomach on full display, biceps too as he crossed his arms over his chest. He was a beautiful kind of man, and you could stare at him for hours. 

"Do you always walk round with just your panties on?" He asks with a scoff, pushing off of the door frame to pour himself a cup of coffee as his eyes locked onto the pot that smelled like it was freshly brewed. You make a squeak of a noise and furiously make sure your shirt is covering your bottom. "How do you take your coffee, sugar?" 

You glance over at him, watching him grab two mugs from the cabinet right above the coffee maker. You wondered how he knew the color changing star wars one was your favorite. "Black." You say, giving the potatoes and peppers one last stir before putting them onto a serving platter next to the eggs and bacon you had made. "And my name isn't Sugar." 

"Woman after my own heart." Jake says, ignoring your annoyance to his pet name andbpouring himself a cup of coffee the same way before taking them both over to the kitchen table. "Also…star wars?" He opened up the curtains next to the table, he had a feeling that you liked the morning sunshine. 

"Are you really about to bash me for star wars right now, hangman?" You ask, humming appreciatively as you set down the large serving platter before going to grab plates. You had made more than enough for the both of you. "Don't you usually go to work before the sun comes up?" 

Jake makes a noise as he sips at his coffee. "Damn girl you make it strong.." He says, sitting down at the round table to your left 7side after subconsciously pulling out your chair for you before you came back with the plates. "I'm on standby most weekends, much to my annoyance. I'd rather spend my time on base or in my plane..but, i use the weekends for heavy work at the gym..don't you usually work every day?" 

You set a plate in front of him with some silverware on top before sitting down in the seat he had pulled out for you. "I have a rare day off..but I'm working the Hard Deck tonight.." You say, scooping food onto your plate before sprinkling some hot sauce over your eggs. "So you're going to the gym today then?" You ask, rethinking your plans to go. 

He nods, grabbing the bottle of hot sauce after you set it down to pour over his own plate, completely covering everything on it. You cringe at the sight. "That must be a guy thing." You mutter, shaking your head at the man. Jake only hums as he scoops up a fork full of egg and potato and shovels it in. You watch as you eat your own food, him already halfway through his plate in a matter of minutes. You take note of the way his forehead shines with sweat and his cheeks and nose tinge red. You want to laugh but it reminds you so much of your father and brother. "Spicy?"

Jake shakes his head. "Not spicy enough." You drop your jaw. With sweat dripping down his face and his skin red, how was it not spicy enough? He reaches an arm across the table and grabs the hot sauce bottle again, it was one you had made yourself, a recipe you had thought interesting. "This is good, did you get it at a farmers market? It's really fresh." He says, coating what's left of his eggs once more. 

You can't help but to wonder if all that time spent in the thinner oxygen so far up in the atmosphere has somehow altered his brain. "I made it." You say simply, picking up your half eaten plate of food and heading towards the sink. You dump it down the garbage disposal and start gathering the rest of the dirtied breakfast dishes, washing your skillets by hand. Just as you're about to start loading the dishwasher you feel Jake next to you, setting his plate down on the counter for you to clear. 

"You really made this?" He asks, clearing all the condiments and things off of the table. You felt awkward, not used to anyone helping you clean the kitchen, that had always been left up to you. 

"Yeah, saw a recipe on pinterest and thought I'd try it out..Kai loves hot sauce, always complains the store stuff sucks." You didn't mention that your father had always made his own as well, which is why your brother complained about the store bought crap you had been recently putting in the fridge. 

Jake hums while you finish washing up the mess you'd made, you don't say anything moreand neither does he until he thanks you for the food and leaves the room, you hear his feet travel down the hallway and the click of his bedroom door. You breathe out a sigh, wondering why you felt so tense and awkward around him. 

You don't dwell on it though, and head to your room to get ready for your day. You figure you shouldn't avoid going to the gym just because he was going to be there, you missed working out and it's not like you didn't need it either. You're quick to change into a pair of spandex shorts and one of your fathers baggy old t-shirts, throwing your hair up into a claw clip before before heading towards the living room. 

You're putting on your sneakers when you catch a peek9f of Jake through the breakfast nook window, he's got a giant tumbler bottle next to him, and a good five or so small tubs of something. He's humming to himself all as he mixes a bunch of it into the tumbler bottle. "Watermelon or Fruit Punch?" He questions to himself and you can't help but to giggle a little when he glances down at his white athletic shirt that clung to his upper body tightly. "Watermelon doesn't stain as bad as fruit punch." 

"Do you always talk to yourself when you're alone?" You ask, catching him jump in fright as you round the corner into the kitchen. You couldn't help but to think it was your own form of payback for earlier. 

"Sugar, I am my own best friend, no one gives me better advice than myself." You felt like you lost braincells when he turned and winked at you. "Want a pre-workout shake? I have Blue Raspberry, orange, Watermelon.."

You cock your head at him. "Pre-workout?" You hated to sound dumb, especially because you worked in a gym, but you really had no clue what he was offering you.

"It gives you the extra boost to get through your workout, helps with recovery while you're working out..good for the muscles too if you buy the right ones, like me.." He said it so matter of fact that you didn't think he was punking you. "Caffeine, basically."

"...then why don't you just drink coffee?" You ask and it must have been a dumb question because he looks so bewildered. He slaps his hand down on the counter top and shakes his head, mouth open. 

"Sugar, coffee and pre-workout are not the same thing." He says, almost offended by your question. "Has your brother taught you nothing?" 

You roll your eyes, exasperated. "Okay, well, I'm headed out. I have to go to the grocery store after I'm done at the gym, text me if you want something specific..have fun with your Caffeine on steroids." You grab your purse and keys and head to your car. 

It's already god awfully hot and you damn near cry when you remember the air conditioning in your car is broken as you slide into the already boiling interior. You toss your bag into the passenger seat and put the key in the ignition, turning it. It makes a choking sound. Confused, you turn it again and it makes a wet cough type of sound. Hoping that maybe it's just because it's old and needs a few minuets sometimes, you turn the key for a third time and this time, there's not a single noise or sign of life. 

"God dammit Becky you piece of crap!" You holler slamming the driver side door closed. You so could not afford this right now. You hoped it was easily fixable and were just on your way back inside to see if you could call Maverick to come help you out, or even wake up your brother and see if he could check it out, when Jake came walking down the driveway towards his truck parked on the curb. 

"Who's becky?" He asks, glancing down at the car and then back to you before making the assumption. "..need a ride?" He unlocks his beefy GMC pick up and tosses his bag into the back seat. You're about to protest, not wanting to drag him off to the grocery store on his day off from work but he beats you to it. "Come on, it's not like i have anything better to do all day, I'll even look at your car when we're done at the grocery store.." 

Honestly, you should have said no and turned right around and gone back inside, because this? This day was the start of your downfall, the beginning of your heart somehow totally belonging to Jake fucking Seresin without even so much as a warning and even more honestly? You would so do it all again if it meant you'd got to relive every moment of this day knowing full well what it was going to lead to. 

@novagreen04 @t4medicroe @dempy @djs8891 @potato-girl99981

[silverynight]

The roommate

<----Previous

Part XIV

They have a nice dinner and Izuku decides not to mention anything so Shoto and he can enjoy their night, although part of him is still thinking about it.

Katsuki arrives early in the morning and the noise coming from the entrance wakes Izuku up, he moves carefully so Shoto can sleep a little bit longer and puts something on to greet his other boyfriend in the living room.

"How was your–" Izuku gets cut off by strong arms around him, lifting him from the ground suddenly.

Katsuki pulls him close to his chest and kisses him all over the face like he was away for a month instead just a couple of hours.

That's getting weird.

"I'm glad you're okay."

"Of course I'm okay," Izuku mumbles, narrowing his eyes at him. "Why wouldn't I be? I'm not the one who risks his life every day, you and Shoto are."

"It's not the same."

"Kacchan..." Izuku says as a warning, pulling away and prompting Katsuki to pout. This is getting a little bit irritating, especially because he knows there's a reason for this kind of behavior and no one wants to tell him. "What's going on?"

That's when he feels a kiss on the top of his head and realizes Shoto is already up. Even better because he needs an explanation.

"Let's make breakfast first."

"Shoto..." Izuku narrows his eyes, putting both hands over his hips.

It's actually Katsuki the one who takes a deep breath, exchanges a look with the other pro hero before putting both hands on top of Izuku's shoulders.

For a moment Izuku can see all the concern in those red eyes and he starts worrying too.

"What's happening?"

"Do you know about the disappearances?" Shoto asks carefully, hugging Izuku from behind.

"A little bit," he admits. "My coworkers started talking about it at work."

"We haven't caught the fucker yet," Katsuki growls, looking like he hates the villain already, well... Izuku can't blame him for that, he's kidnapping innocent people.

"But what does have to do with–"

Shoto cuts him off with a kiss on the back of his head, burying his face in his wild, green curls for a moment.

"At first we thought they didn't have a pattern, that they just picked random people on the streets; they're all adults, but they could male, female, different ages, different jobs... And that didn't help with the investigation at all."

"But then ponytail..."

"Kacchan!" Izuku scolds him lightly, stroking his cheek, Katsuki takes the opportunity to hold his hand and kiss his knuckles. They have talked about the nicknames he uses for the people he knows, that one isn't particularly rude, but he uses a couple that are not kind at all.

"Sorry," he rolls his eyes. "Yaoyorozu realized that none of them were single."

"Okay... I get it, you're worried because I'm not single either."

Katsuki shakes his head and Shoto leans to kiss Izuku's cheek.

"We also found out they all are in some sort of relationship with a pro hero."

"And you're dating two," Katsuki finishes before pulling Izuku to give him a possessive kiss on the lips. He's obviously worried, they both are.

"That doesn't mean they're coming after me, Kacchan." Izuku whispers, feeling a little out of breath, his cheeks are probably pink.

"But you're certainly at risk," Shoto argues, before turning him around to give Izuku a kiss too.

"That doesn't mean you should change your work schedules for me!"

"It's already done," Katsuki informs him with the stubborn determination that Izuku recognizes perfectly well. He knows nothing will make him change his mind. "You knew us well before starting dating us. Overprotection comes with the package."

He's right, of course he is.

Izuku sighs.

"Alright... Just don't... over do it."

He notices that none of them say anything to that, but he supposes he can deal with that later.

"Let's have breakfast together."

Izuku really hopes they catch the villain soon.

***

The next days are a little bit difficult for Izuku; it's not like he doesn't appreciate his boyfriends' concern, it's just that he's used to take care of himself.

They have changed their shifts so Izuku doesn't spend a single minute alone; it's fine for the most part because he loves them and likes when they keep him company, but knowing the main reason behind it makes it a little less... cute.

It's okay. Izuku knows they're under a lot of stress at the moment, considering they haven't caught the person responsible and now they also have to keep an eye on him.

They have become a little bit clingy in the past days too; Izuku usually finds himself with Katsuki's arms around him and resting his cheek against his chest; Shoto sits him on his lap or sometimes he sits on the floor, right below Izuku so he can place both of his freckled legs over his shoulders.

"Listen... My day off is tomorrow and I know how busy you two are so I've decided I'm going to spend it inside the apartment and–"

Shoto and Katsuki look at each other before the blond pro hero nods.

"I'll take a day off tomorrow, Izuku."

The green haired man sighs.

"You're not listening, I'm going to stay inside... So you don't have to worry."

"The villain could break into the apartment," Shoto argues.

"Well, yes... But you told me all the other people have been taken from the streets," Izuku protests. "So it wouldn't make too much sense to suddenly change their MO for me."

"You could be right, but that doesn't mean it'd make us feel better; I know we'll both be distracted during work thinking something could happen to you while we're busy doing something else," Katsuki says, voice shaking, red eyes filled with so much worry and fear, Izuku feels immediately sorry. "Don't ask me or Shoto to go through that..."

"I won't."

It's fine... they're definitely many benefits of having one of his boyfriends home. Although Izuku ends up covered in bite marks the next day; he needs to use a turtle neck to go back to work the next day.

"I bet I can leave more on him," Shoto says that night, when he finally sees them.

"Oh, it's on!" Katsuki smirks, prompting Izuku to blush to the tip of his ears; he shouldn't feel so flustered at this point, it's not the first time something like that happens after all.

Izuku has to use turtle necks and long trousers for the next days and it doesn't help that his co-workers are constantly glancing at him with smirks on their faces.

"We're happy for you, Midoriya!"

"Please, stop talking!"

Izuku is embarrassed, but at least it takes his mind away from all the kidnappings for a while.

***

Next--->

Patreon

[verdemoun]

So sorry for spamming your inbox 😰😰 but you mentioned the gang kinda infantilizing timewarp Kieran and thinking that he wouldn't know what sex is when in actuality that man FUCKS!!! And especially since I think you've said he has anxiety and autism or atleast autistic traits and it's common for allistics to think that autistic people can't make choices or advocate for themselves does he get a bad bitch moment of telling other gang members to STFU!!! And that he has infact been living in modern times for several years and doesn't need to be coddled through everything. Or am I looking into a single line too hard and I'm actually crazy

I am going to kiss your brain that was a very intentional deliberate line congratulations on picking it up!!!!! Yes that was a very conscious seg-way into the gang tending to infantilize Kieran a little and he will absolutely manipulate it.

Sometimes - sometimes he does appreciate it. Sometimes he needs those borderline childish comforts people wouldn't think to offer an adult. If Lenny is struggling they will offer him a whiskey and a night out at the bar, which if Kieran was already not in a good headspace would be Hell. The fact the gang would sooner bring him his safe snacks and hot chocolate and a plush blanket while he watches cartoons is comforting even if it is coming from a place of not entirely seeing him as an adult. But it gets irritating. Being semi-verbal, even when he expresses said frustration it can get brushed off and it just adds to the irritation . The gang freaking out over room shuffling to make room for a new timewarped person: Kieran he would offer his room knowing it was temporary and is fine sleeping on the couch, hell he'd probably enjoy sleeping on a bedroll in the backyard for a few days/weeks: but they won't even consider asking Kieran for anything.

But most of the time he manipulates it. Hosea never lectures Kieran about a job because poor helpless boy could never survive the real world so he gets to live easy staying at Bessie's house or Annabelle's being absolutely spoiled. All he needs to do is flash his big old sad eyes and the gang will give him cash for whatever he wants. Sometimes it's the latest breyer horse model, sometimes it's alcohol and a few galaxy brownies. No questions, no bills, he's living the millennium dream.

Javier is the first one to see through his pouty playing into the infantilization and is honestly just jealous he can't get away with it himself. Calling Hosea out like 'stop telling me to get a job you never tell Kieran to get a job are you saying my patito is less capable because his brain works different despite being you more than willing not to say anything to protect him from being a whipping boy in the old days???' and Hosea has to walk away he is simultaneously stunned and ashamed. Still doesn't start nagging Kieran to get a job and Kieran playfully whacks Javier for even risking putting the idea in his head. He likes easy street and feels he's bloody earned it after his life experiences.

The number one thing that reminds the gang Kieran is not baby boy is any shooting game. He is first pick in paintball or laser tag or anything similar because the Kieran Duffy 'tendency not to mention how capable I actually am' started long before modern era and he is a terrifyingly good sharp shooter. First time the gang realised he was the last man standing and had taken out everyone in pvp they were almost annoyed why didn't you bring this up in canon era and he brushes it off with a teehee I like horses more. Bordering on being a brat about it sometimes and the gang still don't notice how much they tend to infantilize him. He will abuse the assumption he is incapable of things like it's lumbago, he isn't lazy he just doesn't like being expected to work and for the most part won't go out of the way to correct the infantilized assumption he can't do things by himself.

[pigeonwhumps]

Contract 2

Bug and Company masterlist

Taglist: @littlespacecastle @whumpymirages @flowersarefreetherapy @painful-pooch @whumplr-reader

Introducing Bug's primary handler.

696 words

CWs: BBU, pet whump, whumper pov, creepy whumper, sadistic whumper (sadism only mentioned), dehumanisation, institutional pet whump, mentions of breaking people, mentions of torture

Bill jerks awake when the papers slap him in the chest.

"I wasn't asleep, and they're secure anyway," he murmurs. Then he sees who's standing over him and scrambles backwards. "Shaniqua. You're 134U's primary?"

"The one and only." She smirks down at him. "You're lucky it is me. Sleeping on the job? What would people think?"

Bill shrugs. "The paperwork's finished, this sofa's comfortable, and the new pet isn't doing anything interesting."

"I didn't think you'd have finished staring at their tits yet. Apparently, I was wrong."

"You were. I mean they're cute, and their tits are gorgeous, but there's not enough fear there yet. There's only so long you can watch a pet stay in one place when you're unable to do anything to them."

"You should become a handler. We'd love to have you."

"But then I wouldn't get to watch the intake. That's the fun part, especially with defiant ones. Getting to watch their fear and resignation."

"Oh yeah, that reminds me." She whistles sharply. "726E, heel."

A young man trots into the room carrying two plates of food and a jug of water. Bill raises an eyebrow. Shaniqua doesn't usually eat while she works.

"The nachos are for you. And you'll see what I'm doing with the rest of it. 726E, place everything on the coffee table."

726E obeys, then kneels gracefully at Shaniqua's feet. She ruffles his hair.

"Good boy."

Bill remembers this one, he thinks. One of his most defiant intakes initially, but so quick to snap like a twig at the first hint of pain.

"Entertainment class, huh? What tricks can he do?"

Shaniqua grins. "Roll over. Play dead. Freeze."

The pet freezes like a statue, one arm and a leg in the air.

"Okay, back to default."

He moves back to a knelt position at Shaniqua's feet.

"You've done wonders on him," says Bill admiringly. "Final test today?" Shaniqua nods. "How do I help? Surprisingly, my shift has never actually ended up coinciding with one before."

She chucks a mostly-full notebook onto his lap. "Stay with him while he watches the new intake, and write down whenever he has any sort of reaction to it. I need to make sure they're in line with what his prospective wants."

"Gotcha. Can I play with him?"

"Later. If you promise to be extra good in bed tonight."

Bill grins, already relishing the thought of both. "Now that's a deal I can get behind."

"Excellent." She pats the carpet at Bill's feet, and 726E crawls over, kneeling there instead. Then she wanders over to the intake room (plate and jug in hand) and peers through the floor-to-ceiling window at the new pet. "Certainly cute. Good call on the hair, by the way. I'm surprised though. That's a lot of restraints, even for you. Your manipulation skills going?"

"The information their foster parents gave was sparse, and they don't have a lot that I can guess they care about. Brute force was the best way to go."

Shaniqua whistles lowly. "Okay, yeah, I get it. Not so easy to use that. Wow. I feel like I'm gonna have a lot of fun with them."

Bill chuckles. He knows she enjoys using the more advanced methods to break and rebuild pets, that's why she did extra training, but she doesn't always get much of a chance.

"Just... I don't know, be a little careful? We spent a lot of money on them. You remember how long you had to spend training on X-designated pets before you learned where to stop."

Shaniqua flips him off without looking, and he smiles. She gets irritated by him constantly bringing that up, but it's true. She probably has the highest track record of Xs entirely destroyed. It's a good thing that's why they keep them.

Shaniqua squares her shoulders, grins, and saunters into the intake room. The door locks automatically with a quiet snick, a sound all pets learn to be afraid of.

He picks up a cheese-covered nacho and pops it in his mouth, nudging the pet at his feet to make sure he's in his peripheral vision. Now to sit back and enjoy the show.

[dameronswife]

9, 11 and 15 for the General Selfship ask game :)

hey thanks for the question!!! <33 I like your url!

9. How long have you been part of the selfshipping community? How long before have you selfshipped without being aware of the community or publicly partaking in it?

That is an excellent question with a very complicated answer! So, I've been self-shipping probably my whole life, in terms of "imaginary friends" and such (when I was little, like prior to ten, I had a big huge crush on a.nakin and kind of imaginary friend'd that, and then did so even more with the eleventh doctor when I was 13/14, even read some x reader, BUT I wouldn't classify that as "romantically" self shipping bc I was very irritated with all the romance and was like. ugh. fine if i love him and think he's cute I gUESS I'll kiss him if i have to it's basically a job requirement for companions anyway).

But actually shipping an oc with a character? I've been doing that since 2017, and if you guessed that it was for Poe, you'd be right. I stopped reading x reader for a long time, but abruptly remembered they existed and started reading them again and made up an oc that had a history with Poe for a sequel trilogy au I was writing at the time; she kind of ended up being a lot like Z.orii, a bounty hunter character who had a backstory with Poe (they met in the navy though). They didn't wind up together, because at the time I guess the possibility didn't occur to me, but they did kiss (and I described Poe as looking like an angel, lmao).

Flashforward to 2021, and a late night (for me) conversation with my partner @hermitmoss resulted in us tossing around what would happen if their s/i met the resistance crew, and that snowballed into fae mentioning that my already existing Star Wars s/i Volya, would immediately crush on Poe...and with a lot of enablement on faer's part, I wound up....shipping Volya entirely with Poe. They describe it as "how I started openly dating Poe around [my partners]" and they're not incorrect in the slightest!

Then in 2022, I followed someone who self-ships and asked them about it and they explained to me what the community was, and what it entailed, and I realized I'd been doing it my whole life. Shortly after, I made a blog for it specifically!

11. Do you incorporate kink into your selfships? If yes, any kinks you prefer?

[nervous laughter] would you look at the time. no, I kid, I kid. I've been wondering about Volya's kinks for a long time, in all honesty - there's a lot I like to play around with, for her and Poe. Title kink definitely comes up for them, but I think a big one is soft d/s vibes. Also there's the tiny fact that I kind of COMPLETELY unintentionally wrote Volya perfectly into the role of an omega, if I ever did an omegaverse au. Seriously, when I finally asked one of my partners about it and they gave me a rundown and I was like holy shit. It's kind of impressive lmao.

But yeah, I think a lot of soft d/s, maybe some bondage - I think that would be an interesting thing to explore with Poe and Volya's respective traumas. I think they'd definitely think roleplay would be fun they'd get a crack out of it, I bet.

As for Emilia and Marc, I haven't decided what kinks they're into, but I definitely think they're freaky. she's a spider person, and every spider hero seems really into kinky sex, and I don't think she's an exclusion to the rule. But I haven't thought enough on their sex life yet to get totally into what they'd both be into. I definitely think their respective superhero staminas get a lot of use though

15. If you're fictionfolk, how does that affect your selfships?

One quick google search later...I do think I am probably a little bit fictionfolk, I certainly can relate anyway, especially being a system host when majority if not all of my headmates are fictives. Uhm, I mean I don't know - I feel like it definitely adds a component to the sense of yearning I have. I'm not just yearning for Poe, you know, the Resistance, D'Qar - that genuinely feels like home for me. I feel, genuinely, like I was born in the wrong world, and that's why this one is so hard for me and why I can't find my footing in it. Like...I am yearning for the place that I feel like I do genuinely belong; I poured...so much of myself into Volya. She is me, and I am her. It is a moebius strip, she is the deepest, innermost parts of myself made ink; she is everything I love about myself, everything I loathe about myself, every piece of me I've fought to hide because it felt too vulnerable to show anyone. She holds all my desires, she has the family I crave and long for, she gets to touch and hold and kiss and make love to Poe, she gets to stand up for herself and what she believes in, she gets to call Leia mother...

It's a good kind of hurt, but it's still a hurt. And I think it definitely impacts how I self-ship at least with Poe; I don't have that same sense of yearning for the universe that Marc is in, because that's basically my reality, so I haven't quite been able to pour myself so directly into Emilia yet. Emilia is a part of myself, she has a lot of backstory similiarities to me, but she's a lot cooler than me. A lot more self-reliant. But I know where I end, and she begins. I don't with Volya.

Well...apart from the fact that she's blue and I'm not, anyway.

general self ship asks!

[theleg]

Week 2: Mirror sex, edging - L x (fem)reader

@dnkinktober

ao3 account: ArsonistsXD (its satire, I swear)

You sit in a grayish room, one that resembles a jail cell. There are no windows, and you’re sitting

in a chair, completely tied up. After a small tug you learn that there's no way to move.

You hear a slight buzz, then a voice comes in through what seems like an intercom. The voice has a robotic filter over it.

"You have been put under suspicion for being the Second Kira. All of the evidence that we have gathered points toward you. Do you want to confess?” the electronic voice asserts.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about. I have absolutely no relation to Kira or the Second Kira!” you stammer, looking at the security camera placed in the right corner of the cell.

“Don’t try to lie. I know it’s you, everything we have gathered shows that you are Kira," says the man through the voice filter. There’s a hint of certainty and confidence that leaks out. You just shake my head, shocked at the bizarre situation you’re in.

Never once had you ever even considered helping Kira. Not that you could, you have no connection to them. But whoever is speaking to you thinks otherwise, and it's your job to prove your innocence. After gathering your thoughts, you speak again.

"I don't know who you are, or why you're accusing me of this, but you're wrong. I would never do such an awful thing," you claim, your voice coming off as more confident then you feel.

"We'll see about that," the voice says dismissively. You scan over the plain gray room with hopes of finding where the voice is playing from, but it seems to be hidden. You have no idea why there would be a need to hide a speaker, but there's probably a good reason.

You lean back into your chair, trying to get comfortable within the restraints. There's no point in replying, so you just sit back and relax. You can't think of any way to prove you're not some insane murder's psychotic copycat, but there's absolutely no way this robo-guy can prove something that isn’t true. For now, all you can do is stare at the wall, looking as pissed off as you feel.

"Now, tell me about your home life. Oh, and any friends, or connections you may have," the voice orders after realizing you had no reply.

"Wouldn't you like to know," you shot back. You figure that if you’re going to stay tied up in this dull room, you might as well have fun with it.

"Yes, I would like to know. While I already know most of your daily routine and hobbies, it would be nice to know what you do in more detail. Maybe you could make me familiar with your acquaintances," whoever is speaking must be either stupid, or such a wreck socially to have not caught onto the sarcasm. Or they're just ignoring it.

"Creep.." you mutter under your breath, with no intention to answer any questions. You find no point in answering things this stranger already knows, it's not like you have any secrets.

"This will go by faster if you cooperate with us," they say, having a frustrated undertone to their voice. You assume they'd rather do anything than be dealing with your shit, but they stay anyway.

"Don't care. I'd cooperate if you hadn't accused me of something I didn't do," you roll your eyes, wanting to be here no more than the voice. Nobody is happy with this.

"Don't give me that, as I've said, all evidence I've gathered points toward you. Your schedule, your connections, even your personality," they list these out with what can only be confidence shining through the robotic tone.

"I'm not a killer," you spit, your voice growing annoyed and irritated. Before the person you had been talking to can respond, you can hear faint talking on the other end. By straining your ears, you make out small words like 'wrong' and 'out'.

The talking on the other end continued for a few moments. After a bit, it stops, then the voice cuts back on to your room.

"I’m sorry. It seems you have been telling the truth. One of our very incompetent members had gotten you mixed up with our true target. We will let you out, but it will take a few minutes," a rush of both anger, and relief rushes through you.

Before you can respond, an older man with a white mustache comes into the room and starts to untie your restraints. He looks polite enough, so you figure some conversation would be nice.

"Were you the one on the other end?" you ask, voice now more polite.

"Oh, no, you were talking to the lead detective, I’m just the middleman," he says with a chuckle. I give a soft hum in response to acknowledge him.

"Am I gonna meet this lead detective? I'd like to know who had me tied up here. I've heard that ‘L’ is the head of the Kira case. It’s him, isn’t it?" you ask, wanting to know the asshole that had you restrained in this room for a solid thirty minutes. The old man hesitates for a moment as he finishes untiring you, before the robotic voice cuts back on.

"I would not mind meeting you. And yes, I am L," they say, before cutting off again.

The older man helps you up and leads you out of the room, through several locked doors. The room he takes you to is full of monitors, and is considerably big. But, the thing that stands out the most to you is black-haired man, sitting strangely in a chair.

"Watari, please give us a moment," The man says to who you now know as Watari. Watari nods and exits the room, leaving just you and the black haired man, who you now notice also had huge eye bags.

"I'd like to apologize to you. It was our task force member, Matsuda, who had gotten you mixed up with the correct suspect. I am L, the one speaking to you while you were tied up," he speaks about Matsuda with a hint of venom, which in this case, you think you would too.

"Well, at least I get an apology. And it would be great from someone like you," you say with a teasing tone. L looks like he's dying, but for some reason, you find him really, really attractive. He may be the “World’s Greatest Detective,” but what bad could it be to flirt just a little?

"Someone like me?" He asks, not picking up on the flirting tone.

"Well yeah, someone attractive, like you," you explain to the clearly uneducated man. This causes him to look a little surprised, with a light tint of red creeping onto his cheeks.

"You think I'm attractive?" L questions. It's at this moment you realize that you could have a lot of fun messing with him.

"Well who wouldn't? I won't be surprised if you were good in bed too," you smirk as you say this. A part of you didn't want to go that far, but the rest of you wanted to mess with this slightly pathetic detective.

"I don't know if I am, I've never done.. that.. before," he chews on his thumb nail as he talks, the red tint on his cheeks becoming more notable. You had assumed he was a virgin, honestly, but you don't care. It just makes it easier for you to tease him.

"Would you want to?" you ask, under the assumption he'll decline. You wouldn't mind if he said yes, of course, but you've known him for maybe forty minutes. To your surprise, he gives a small nod.

"Yes, I'd like to see what it's like.. and you seem like a good option for it," his tone makes it sound like he isn’t talking about fucking a person he just met, let alone someone he had been interrogating.

"Alright, where's the bedroom then?" you ask with a slight smirk. You’re astounded that he agreed, but now that he accepted you have to go through with it. L stands up and starts walking, waving for you to follow.

"Follow me, it’s.. up these stairs,” he states, still continuing to awkwardly gesture toward where to go. You follow, an amused smile on your face at how nervous he seems.

You walk up a flight of stairs and he opens a small, white door for you. He lets you enter before he follows behind and closes the door.

"How do we start..?" He asks, clearly flustered. You reply by grabbing his hand and dragging him over to the bed, sitting him down and leaning over him.

"Do you wanna start slow?" you ask, not wanting to overwhelm the detective.

"Yes please.." he looks down as he responds in an attempt to hide his embarrassment.

"Alright, I'll start us off slow," you lean down and plant a soft kiss on his lips, making him grow weaker under you. You put a finger under his chin to make him lift his head more as you deepen the kiss.

You stay like that for a few moments, before you pull back, making him look disappointed. Noticing this, you lean back in for another, more aggressive kiss. This time, you open your mouth just enough for him to do the same. You slip your tongue into his warm mouth and he begins to catch on, letting his tongue and movements become fluid.

As both of you make out, you use both of your hands to lift up L's shirt. You both part lips for just a moment to take his shirt off, then continue to kiss.

Your hands run over his bare chest, feeling every bit you can put your hands on. Each part of his body is thin and boney, but you don't care, you love all bodies. You break the kiss once more to move down and start planting small kisses down his neck, causing him to softly whine.

You both stay like that for what feels like forever, before you feel him hardening under you, causing you to smirk. You run a hand over his crotch as you kiss and he shivers.

"Please.. I need more than this.." L says, his voice weak and nervous. You stare at him for a moment before getting an idea.

"Alright, of course," you pull him up with force and push him face first against the body mirror in the bedroom. "But you get to watch yourself," you add with a smirk. He gives a meek nod, not willing to fight it.

You press yourself against his back and unzip his pants, then pull them down, including his underwear. You can now see just how hard he's gotten from everything.

You run your finger lightly over the blunt tip, making him moan softly. His moans are a lot quieter than you thought they'd be. Before he's about to ask you to start, you wrap your hands firmly around his dick and start stroking him. He arches his back with pleasure, trying to keep his eyes away from the mirror he's pressed against.

“I wasn’t expecting you to be this big, L. I was underestimating what you were hiding in those baggy jeans..” you tease. He twitches in your hand, so you assume he’s enjoying it.

As you use one hand to stroke him with a slowly increasing pace, you use your other hand to grab his chin and make him look at himself. This pulls him closer to the edge, his moans getting slightly louder.

"You're doing good," you murmur with a soft smirk on your face as you keep your grip from around his cock.

Just before he's about to cum, you pull your hand away. He looks back at you, both confusion and lust apparent on his face.

"You're not gonna finish just yet," you whisper in his ear. L looks upset, but he knows he's in no place to argue with you.

You get in front of L and kneel in front of him, so he's still facing the mirror as you face his throbbing dick. He stares down at you with anticipation, clearly in want of release.

You give his dick a long lick on its underside and kiss his tip teasingly. You plant small kisses up and down his length, making him whine. Watching him grow this needy was amusing, but you couldn't blame him for being so overstimulated. You wrap your lips around the head and move down from there.

You're fitting more and more into your mouth, before L bucks his hips forward and bottoms out in your mouth. You softly moan onto his dick as you start to slowly bobbing your head on it. L continues to moan and whine, becoming completely undone at your touch.

You continue to pick up speed for a few more moments before L leans forward, keeping himself up by leaning on your head as he pants and moans. Originally, you were going to keep edging him for a lot longer, but knowing this is his first time, you keep going until he cums in your mouth. You swallow it, then stand to help him stay up.

"Are you okay?" you ask, hoping none of this was too much for his first time. He gives a subtle nod.

"You can sit on the bed, I'll set up a bath for you," you tell him before walking into the bathroom connected to the room. As you're turning on the bath, L walks in and kisses you softly, and you kiss him back. He breaks the kiss and looks in your eyes.

“I enjoyed what we did tonight,” L voices as he looks at you with a rare smile. He reaches his arms out to what seems like the beginning of a hug, so you wrap your arms around him in return.

“I’m glad that I could be of service,” you reply, gently holding the detective with a warm grin.

[weird-writes]

Five Runs: Run 5 - Home (The Mandalorian, E)

Title: Five Runs: Run 5 - Home

Series: Part three of Creed, a non-linear series about Din Djarin and his favorite... distraction. 

Description: A series of drabbles all sharing one theme: you've decided to run away from your Mandalorian. On purpose. For his birthday. Listen, everyone's got their kinks, and his is bounty hunting (sort of. Mostly, it's you.)

Pairing: Din Djarin x Female Reader

The fifth time, it's a hot whisper against your ear in the dark: “When I said run, I didn’t mean stay in my bed.”

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, canon-typical violence, object insertion but probably not in the way you think, oral sex, manual sex, implied penetrative sex, brief mention of somnophilia, canon what canon, no betas we die like men [warnings are for all drabbles.]

Tropes: established relationship, the helmet comes off, hurt/comfort, fluff, adventure

Author's note: This one is for @mandoloriancookie, who was one of the first people to encourage me to keep going when I posted my first fanfic in 20+ years. Hope you like Din with his helmet off.

RUN 5: HOME

The fifth time, it's a hot whisper against your ear in the dark: “When I said run, I didn’t mean stay in my bed.”

"Oh come on, it’s not like you had any reason to come back and look. And I had a hell of week, what with all the weird rituals and your Mandalorians staring at me. I didn't feel much like exercise.”

"They're not my Mandalorians. And not that I mind, but circling back to the ship is cheating," Din says, but you can tell his heart's not in it. You'd had the good sense to be naked when he found you and it's already paying off, because his irritation is muted by the way he's kissing down your collarbone toward the swell of your breast. Then he pauses, hovering over your nipple. "Wait. How the hell did you get back in here without tripping the alarm?"

That had occurred to you too. You had your own ground protocol disarmament button on your comm link, but if you’d used it, or opened the gangway hatch to get back inside, the ship would have notified Din and he would have known exactly where you were. So you pursued... other means.

"Promise you won't be mad if I tell you," you say, only half-joking.

You can't see Din's reaction in the dim space of his rack but you can feel him bury his head between your tits, press his nose to your sternum, and groan. “No, I don't promise, and I know you're dying to tell me anyway."

You absolutely are. "You know that job you took three weeks ago, when you were planetside without me? I rewired the security system to ignore the maintenance cubby below the hyperdrive. The one right against the bulkhead."

"That wouldn't have gotten you in." He sounds dubious but you're not done.

"And then I spent the next few jobs figuring out how to make a really, really tiny grav bomb," you continue, and Din lets out another noise like a dying bantha. "And then after that, when we took that job on Ferrix, I salvaged an emergency airlock seal and cut it down to size. Obviously we're still space-worthy, I'm not totally insane. I'll do the real repair in Corellia, they have amazing parts markets."

"You maniac," Din says. "You are insane. You spent three weeks and a pile of credits just to win a contest that doesn't mean anything and you're going to have to spend another week and another pile of credits to fix it, and you lost anyway."

You bridle at that. "Okay, first of all, it was a very impressive test of my skills so respect where it's due, tinhead. Secondly, I would have won if you hadn't decided to bring the ship with you to Central, which, by the way, is also cheating. And third -- technically, you haven't found the new countdown timer yet," you finish, a little breathlessly. Din's resumed his warm attentions to your breasts while you talk. He makes a skeptical sound as he trails back up your chest and bites down on one earlobe, playing the flesh gently between teeth and tongue and making you shudder. You wonder if you'll ever be less sensitive to the feeling of his mouth on you. You doubt it.

"How much time is left?" Din asks, when he finally releases you. You've dissolved into his touch as you usually do, pliant and willing underneath him, and it takes you a second to recall yourself enough to answer.

"Well, I'm not exactly wearing a chrono, but probably.... about five minutes?"

"Plenty of time for me to still win." You scoff at his confidence, but Din's response is to pin your hip down with one big hand while he slides down your body and nudges your legs apart with the other. He pushes a callused finger into your wet heat and you ache at the intrusion, canting your hips up to ask for more. He obligingly hooks another finger into you, earning a moan, and then you hear a muffled, triumphant noise as Din finds what he's looking for and tugs. The sensation of the biocoat prophylactic sliding out of you, its blinking electronic burden still safe inside, is extremely odd, even more so than inserting it was. You can feel yourself flushing with belated embarrassment, heat rising up your neck to color your cheeks. You still can't make out his expression but Din lifts his head from between your thighs and you just know his eyebrows are incredulous.

"You maniac," he says again, simultaneously laughing and appalled. "Maker, I remember when you were shy. Did you really think that wouldn't be the first place I'd look? I know you, mesh'la, and that includes your sense of humor. And even if I didn't, you know I can't keep my hands off you."

"Your fingers out of me, more like," you say, but you hope he can hear your grin even if you are blushing. "Maybe I wanted to lose. Maybe I thought you needed a win after I beat you so bad last time."

"Yeah, by getting arrested," he grumbles, but he sets the tiny round button aside, still wrapped, and dips his head to lick a long hot stripe up you instead. Then he does it again, and again, and you arch into the pleasure, countdown forgotten, begging for more of the touch that is finally permitted between you. For more of what he always awakens in you.

"Din-- fuck, Din -- right there, yes, please..."

He gives you a few more firm strokes, then trades tongue for fingers, lightly circling your clit, and presses a kiss to your inner thigh. "As the winner, shouldn't I be deciding the terms? We're supposed to be in the air and on the way to Corellia in…” He checks the timer. “Now.”

You whine. He's well within the rights of your game to pull away and make you wait as long as it pleases him, but the bed is so comfortable and he feels so good against you. You weren’t kidding about your week; all you want is your own Mando to yourself for a while. "Another five minutes-- it’s your birthday,” you plead.

He laughs into the soft flesh of your belly, his fingers never stopping their teasing. "I told you years ago. I don't know my birthday."

"Ugh, you're no fun. What kind of birthday is 'sometime during the rainy cycle on Aq Vetina' anyway?" Your complaint is familiar by now. "You let me pick a date on the standard calendar, and I picked today. So it's your birthday."

"If it's my birthday and I won the hunt, why does it feel like you're bossing me around?" You can feel Din's smile as he drags his mouth to the juncture of your thighs and spreads you open. You moan as his tongue dips just inside you, but he's continuing the conversation like nothing happened, speaking directly to your core. "Besides, who cares about birthdays when now I can do this anytime I want." His voice has taken on that rich, dark tone you've only ever heard him use with you. "I'm going to taste my riduur while she sleeps, eat her while she works, bend you over the console and fuck you with my--"

Din's list is cut short as you grab his shoulders, hauling him up your body to tangle your mouths together, the kiss as new and ecstatic as you feel. By the time you stop to breathe again, you're both panting, and you can feel the hard length of him pressing against your hip. You want him more than you ever imagined possible.

"Another five minutes," you say again, and bury your fingers in his hair to pull him closer.

FIN

run 1 | run 2 | run 3 | run 4 | series masterlist

[goshiikkuburcdo]

waxgentleman asked: Galdino can't really blame Buggy for not wanting to participate in these meetings, those two never spare him. He's always running too—doing the possible to not even cross in their field of view. His old boss for obvious reasons.. but in Mihawk case? Who wouldn't be afraid of the strongest swordsman of the entire earth? It's called being sane. Since all he had to do was to tell them about their monthly's income, he's obligated to attend instead of the clown. When Mr3 opens the door he's taken by surprise only seeing Mihawk there. That's feel somehow worse! The pressure in that room is killing him. "Oh Good evening!...................Actually—would you excuse me for a second? ga ne." He closes the door and immediately sounds of a muffled screaming can be heard. After a few minutes of whimpering, the artist enters the room again with tired eyes and a faint smile. "I see Crocodile didn't arrived yet—Buggy sadly won't be participating this time, ga ne. Would you like a heads up or do you prefer to wait, Mister Mihawk?" (HMM BIT LONGER THan I planned but i Hope it's alright!!🤝)

Of course it appeared no one else was going to take any of this seriously, despite having been so seemingly excited for this alliance. It should have come as no surprise that the clown was either too scared or too lazy to bother while Crocodile was happy enough to leave anything that irritated him to someone else to deal with.

This was the same type of redundant, tiring theater as he had dealt with during his time with the warlords. Truly it seemed nothing changed.

Finally though someone approached, eyes narrowed when eyes rested on neither clown nor Crocodile. Of course. While he was clearly irritated, there was a part of him that felt a bit of relief. Dealing with both those fools tended to end with him rubbing away a headache and medicating himself with a full bottle of wine in order to keep from swinging Yoru at them. Quickly though that relief was dashed when the man that approached faltered and squealed while attempting to stall and hide.

"I prefer not to have my time wasted. If you speak for them, then speak already." He stated, clearly ignoring the muted whines coming from the man. If they were to wait, it would be all night. Mihawk didn't have that amount of patience for this. "Perhaps you will retain this little job if you can prove your reliability. Clearly they cannot. Just, stop shrieking." Hopefully the offer of trust would relieve the man and create someone that could get something done. Someone he could actually deal with without wishing to walk into the ocean.

Mihawk settled back and waved a hand, inviting him to have a seat and get more comfortable. "Do I even want to ask what the clown's excuse is this time?" No, probably not. He loosed a dramatic sigh. "Lets move on. What are the numbers?"

[helloneighborfan]

PS: Probably the largest chapter I have ever written 🥹 and i'm proud of It. Enjoy!

Chapter 12: Periodistic sense

"The juiciest news will come in stormy times." It's what Norman hears whenever he feels "useless." He always wanted to be the author of the most important news that happened in the town, regardless of the topic he would touch on. As he gazed at his small workspace, he wrote down everything he did every day and what he saw, which was basically the same but with little drastic changes. As he was scoring he said:

- I think I should eat at least one bread and coffee to have energy- which is literally what I eat for breakfast weekly.

- And that's why there are the best biscuits and coffee in "The homemade touch"

Norman slowly turned his head so that she felt a slight discomfort in his chest and screamed.

-Gah! It scared me, sir.-

It was none other than Gordon leaning out of his office, letting out a humorous laugh in which he forced Norman to laugh uncomfortably. Breaking free from where he was, she walked in and stood next to him, causing him to make slight nervous movements to his head and get sweaty on his hands. He was nervous about what he would tell him, but something in his eyes warned him that this was not the case, something more intriguing than anything.

-Come with me, will you? We have to discuss a pending topic on my list. Norman stands up from the wooden chair and they walk towards his office. He thought his prayers "were" coming true or probably not, but he trusts that whatever it is, he'll face it and find a way out of that gloomy hole. -The guest is always the one who is tested-. He didn't understand what he meant but he theorized it was a saying so he didn't say anything.

-My office is comfortable and cozy, isn't it?

"I suppose, sir, ahem... I mean, yes, it's a comfortable place."

They sat down and Gordon started talking to her about some off-topic, like why do you eat brownies and coffee Monday through Friday? or he spoke shameful blasphemies about him, making him ashamed of his habits. When suddenly he started to talk about skills. "Only few are born with skills and know how to execute them perfectly."

"Do you see potential here?" Norman asked.

-Indeed, you have an ability buried there among all that cloudy head and that is why from now on you will be an investigative journalist. Now,you will go to the places that I indicate you to be able to obtain information, interviews, etc. . . -.

Gordon seemed to say it without emotion, but he made it sound interesting. He could detect it in this moment, on his face expresiones, but he was hard to know what was he trying to express.

-you'll continue writing articles and news, but the ones that do matter-.

-This opportunity is great, thank you sir, I will not disappoint you.-

So be it, Darby. You do not want that it goes back to sleep you in daily news or if? -. No. -Well, be a good boy for now .

-Before you go, I will tell you the first details of your new job class: you will be with the others when there is a special or rare occasion, such as the Tavishes, the mayor, some strange incident or other similar things. You will also be able to collaborate with others to get a "news special" and lastly, you will be involved in a news series entitled: "Raven Brooks Oddities".

- And what is this last one about?-. Gordon remained silent and trying not to feel irritated to talk about this ambitious project again, for which he told him that he would discover it when he already had the exact control of his "hidden ability". So he asked her to go to the first location he indicated: the university.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

While Norman went where he had been told, he would never know that it was the start of one of the jobs that would mark his life; Nerves invaded him at that precise moment, so he wouldn't stop drinking his hot coffee. "It's time, Norman."

He entered the building and went to the office to attend to the matter that he had to do, so he headed there. "Is that series of news related to meteorologists?" he thought he. He went into the office and called if there was anyone but no one answered so he turned around and almost fell due to colliding with someone, no, there were two people. One appeared to be the secretary and director.

-Who do we have here this time? hmhmmm- mentioned the director.

-I come from the Raven Brooks Banner and I am-

"There's no need for introductions, Darby, right?" Yes.

"Okay, now that you're here, let me take you where they asked me to take you."

In the blink of an eye he was already in the classroom that he had been told. There were many books, cups of coffee and a great speech was heard from there. -I suppose you already know your job, right?-

"No," he nervously answers. Apparently the director had not heard it and in the distance she was heard saying good luck!

-I like this rustic style of the university, maybe this is the most pleasant thing you can have all day, even as a place to work-. Norman jokes. He began to enter the room and sees around him almost a pile of books and leaves that make Norman surprised. The more he walked in the room, the conversation became clearer to the point of hearing the following:

"See, that boy has the same emerald eyes as you! I'm glad he was delivered safely from the hospital and that he continues to grow as he should, but is another one on the way?" A female voice silently nods. "She will be called Lisa Peterson." Lisa, a female name that fits like a glove. Norman argued mentally.

"The name is not bad at all." It's all the male voice had said. "I've been thinking about Theodore every day and I imagine that he will be, someone in this life, you know?"

While the conversation continued in the stern, Norman began to analyze each sheet and note that he found. Some mentioned about the <<strange events>> that only happened inside the town, like a storm that makes the crows go crazy and certain days it only rains. “No wonder why I had a mega leak on the roof of the house and I didn't sleep for the next three days.”

Norman's thoughts were interrupted when the two voices went towards him, looking at him as if they wanted to ask him endless questions. -I'm Norman Darby, reporter for the Banner! I swear I didn't want to interrupt your conversation! -. He spent a long silence in the room until he noticed that they both seemed to have a very good vibe.

-Hello, banner journalist-. He slowly raises his hand in greeting. - I'm Roger Peterson and this is my wife, Adelle Peterson.

"Nice to meet you, Norman." I guess you came for information. That's how it is. After Norman's unexpected welcome, he went on to ask them questions about their lives, why they consider Ravens Brooks a unique town, and to chat a bit about the debate that ocurred two days ago; They commented that there was nothing to fear about their reputation, what mattered was that the name of the town resonated with the people, but when they heard of a sect, they assumed that they were pulling the strings from the shadows without being discovered, some people would call them “forest protectors”.

As the 'interview' developed, Norman began to feel comfortable with them, so he decided to talk further with them about what they could achieve with the great opportunity that the three of them had been given.

Norman had left the place satisfied with nothing to worry about at all from the Banner because he had obtained enough data and said: What a day!

[walkawaytall]

This this this.

Many people who've had to get autoimmune disorders diagnosed learn this the hard way (and Lord help you if you have an autoimmune disorder and happen to be overweight -- even if weight gain is a symptom of the disorder you have). Thyroid in particular is frustrating because most GPs run a test on TSH only and declare thyroids "normal" even though:

You can have an autoimmune thyroid disorder and a normal TSH. It's super easy; I've done it for over a decade. But that doesn't mean that my autoimmune thyroid condition isn't affecting my body. Before diagnosis and treatment, I was resting all day to work 4.5-hour shifts at a job where I sat the majority of the time. I was 25 years old and having to make decisions between seeing friends for a couple of hours and doing dishes because I physically could not do both in the same day. But my TSH was normal! It's always normal!

"Normal" on paper doesn't mean normal for me. I know after 12 years of being afflicted with Hashimoto's thyroiditis that I feel best if my TSH is under 1.5. When it gets up to 2, I feel like absolute garbage and cannot function like a normal human being. But the normal range that labs list is often 0.5-5.0, so having a doctor that puts more emphasis on bloodwork results rather than the patient experiencing not-normal things in their own body leads to the patient being blamed for things like fatigue, weight gain, etc. when running other thyroid tests (like antibody tests and testing actual thyroid hormone levels) would likely show that things are not working the way they should.

It took four or five months for me to be diagnosed with Hashimoto's because, even though I have an extensive family history of a variety of thyroid diseases, my TSH was normal. My antibodies weren't. But I wouldn't find that out until I finally sent myself to an endocrinologist, something I only knew to do because most of the women on my mom's side of the family have thyroid problems. My GP did not suggest this to me because my TSH was normal. That's four or five months that I spent essentially sleeping and barely able to do anything because an expert didn't refer me to a specialist or run further tests despite my symptoms and family history all because of a normal TSH.

Almost exactly nine years after I was finally diagnosed with Hashimoto's, I woke up one morning with pain and swelling in both of my wrists even though I had done nothing to irritate them. Most people would probably just think this is weird, but since joining the Autoimmune Disorder Club means that developing other autoimmune disorders is more likely, I was worried about rheumatoid arthritis -- something that often shows up in mirroring joints at the same time. The PA at the clinic at my work ran an ANA, a standard test for a range of autoimmune disorders. Mine was negative (it's always negative). The PA ran a rheumatoid factor test. Mine was negative (it's always negative). X-rays were done. They were normal. I was diagnosed with De Quervain tenosynovitis in both arms even though I hadn't done anything out of the ordinary that would have resulted in overuse, which is what De Quervain tenosynovitis is generally caused by. I would bring up that I found it odd that I developed this in both arms at the same time with no real cause and my concerns about rheumatoid arthritis since I already had an autoimmune disorder, but the rheumatoid factor was negative! That means I didn't have rheumatoid arthritis!

I tried to be a "good patient" and just listen to the medical professionals and the test results. I did some physical therapy (though I admit I wasn't as consistent with my exercises as I should have been, they also were not helping). I iced my wrists/thumbs. I wore braces. I did nothing outside of what was required of me to keep my job. I couldn't turn a doorknob without severe pain -- and I have high pain tolerance (or, geez, keys were the worst because the combination of pinching and turning was excruciating). I couldn't chop vegetables, which meant I couldn't really cook the way I was used to. Lifting a saddle onto a horse -- something I had done once a week for a couple of years -- was now majorly painful. I spent my off time that summer watching TV and being generally glad that my riding school goes on hiatus for adult riders during the hottest months so I didn't feel like I was missing things, but also wasn't causing myself additional pain.

It took eight months for a doctor to run an anti-CCP antibody test, which is a blood test associated with rheumatoid arthritis. Mine was high, but not as high as it should be for people with full-blown rheumatoid arthritis. He ran the test again. Same results. Abnormal-but-low titers can apparently be associated with early stages of RA, so he decided to try treating me for it. He put me on hydroxychloriquine, a drug that treats a number of things, RA being one of them. I was pain-free within two months and have remained pain-free in the year-and-a-half since.

I could have trusted the PA that first diagnosed me. And I tried; I genuinely did. But when I'm sitting there saying, "This is not normal for me. I did nothing that would have caused this, and I also have a preexisting condition that makes these symptoms very concerning," and also, "I am doing everything you've told me to do and have seen no improvement," and I'm being told the same things over and over again based on blood tests for which a negative result doesn't actually mean you don't have what's being tested for (30%-40% of patients do not test positive for rheumatoid factor in the early stages of the disease), it is hard to give blanket trust to professionals.

I'm struggling with this again because I developed GI issues shortly after my RA diagnosis and the first doctor I saw told me what I was experiencing was normal. It's not. It's not normal for me. I have lived in my body for 36 years and come from a family rife with GI issues, and I seemingly spontaneously developed new and alarming symptoms that, again, might be on some sort of spectrum of "normal" for the entirety of humanity, but they are not normal for me and my body. (That GI doctor also told me she "could tell by looking at you that you aren't malnourished", which is a fascinating superpower to have considering most medical professionals I've met run blood tests for those sorts of things. I'm pretty sure she just meant that she could tell by looking at me that I am overweight -- though I had lost around ten pounds without trying to which seems...strange given the circumstances.)

The second GI specialist I went to I do trust. He was sure I had Crohn's. I have the antibodies for it. I have the existing autoimmune issues. I have the symptoms. But every time I've had a colonoscopy or endoscopy, they find a whole lotta nothing. A pillcam study found signs of erosions associated with Crohn's, but I'm now being told that the dozens and dozens of tiny spots that were circled mean nothing. The antibodies and symptoms and pillcam study don't mean much when compared to the clean biopsies from the colonoscopies and endoscopy.

And they might mean nothing! But also...this sort of thing is almost ubiquitous for Crohn's patients. If I get a Crohn's diagnosis in the next five years, I will be...whatever the opposite of surprised is. I don't want Crohn's. But the fact is, even if I don't have Crohn's, I have a bunch of symptoms that are consistent with it, and being told I don't have it doesn't magically make those go away.

It's possible that there's a totally different thing causing my GI issues. The main reason I am concerned about it being an autoimmune thing is because catching that early can mean mitigating later complications. I don't want to act like I know more than my doctors because I don't...but I also know that it kind of seems like, once tests come back as normal, no one's overly motivated to try to figure out what the hell is wrong with my body that it's behaving in such bizarre ways. And since I have previous experience with this, I do feel like I have to look into things myself, which means, yeah...not fully trusting the specialists I pay to fix me.

Part of the problem is that we aren't experts, so it's difficult to tell when a medical professional is doing something wrong. All we know in these situations is our own body. But if said professional starts acting like our lived experience doesn't matter, and we later find out that, actually, we had symptoms of an underlying chronic illness the whole time and the professional either didn't know what to make of our symptoms or ignored us...well, that sort of experience sticks with you and makes you question freaking everything.

Got reblogged by Seanan McGuire again; can safely assume my notes will be a nightmare of people accusing me of being a lazy, incompetent, distracted, inhumane doctor, assuming they notice I’m a doctor. May take a week off.

People will simultaneously describe all the elements of the current US medical system that lead to burnout in service of making the very few shareholders very rich, and then pretend that doctors aren’t also profoundly negatively affected by it, and then decide the system is also actually our fault.