#it's a terrible zoo in here

[tavyliasin]

Part 1 of Haarlep's Festive Party is now out!

The rest will follow in the next day or so, it's a fight to finish it because it grew so long, but I do hope you enjoy the appetiser~

Mind the tags, I have my usual beloved tropes of Haarlep's aphrodisiac shenanigans, bondage, power play, a little pain play, some devilishly delightful toys and new outfits, oh and this time? Gale is joining the party!

Smut below the cut with some samples, the full work for now is only on AO3 but I shall see about posting it here in chapters when it is completed too~ Happy holidays darlings, in whatever ways you do or do not celebrate~

-------- -------- The Fiend's Feast -------- --------

“Are you nearly ready to go?” Tav’s voice called through the thin fabric of Gale’s tent as he fussed over his outfit. “I still need a few minutes… Look, you all go on ahead without me, I can soon catch up.” He looked in the mirror again and shook his head. He felt ridiculous, and not at all prepared, but he was not going to miss another party. “I will be there, I promise you that.” Outside the tent, Tav shrugged, looking to her companions. “I feel ridiculous.” Astarion complained, lifting the hems of his revealing outfit. “I don’t know how I let the pair of you talk me into this, again. ”

Beside him, Halsin merely grinned, a firm slap to the rear causing the pale elf to leap from the floor in shock with a loud jingling of bells. “I think you look perfect, my heart. I fear it is my dignity taking the hit now.” “Hold still.” Tav stood on her tiptoes to reach up to Halsin as he bent just slightly for her, letting her adjust the large antlers fixed to his head before kissing his red-painted nose. “There. Much better.” The druid smiled, unable to hide his feelings whenever Tav lavished gentle affection towards him, even as Astarion huffed with exaggerated jealousy. “It would be much easier were I to be permitted use of my wild shape.” “That would be cheating.” Karlach gave him a gentle elbow in the ribs, her horn decorated with extra branches and shiny baubles. “We’re going to be late if we stand around talking here all night.” Wyll appeared beside her, linking arms, similar festive items adorning his own curved horns, ribbons sewn carefully through his hair. “Shall we?”

Lae’zel and Shadowheart were already walking on ahead, having some kind of heated argument that Tav and the others couldn’t hear. Karlach watched them with concern. “Maybe we should keep a closer eye on them, before someone gets hurt.” “Oh I think that is their plan, but I wouldn’t worry about anything permanent .” Astarion smirked, as he watched the realisation dawn on the tiefling’s face. 

“Well, let’s not keep the host waiting any longer. I’m curious what all this is about, anyway.” Tav smiled, entwining her fingers with those of her lovers either side of her. The memory of Haarlep’s last party was still fresh in her mind, and her body, and she couldn’t wait to find out what the rest of the night might have in store for them all. ----

“I hate you. You know that?” Raphael sneered, even as he allowed Haarlep to continue as they pleased, covering his wings with white feathers. Well, allowed was perhaps not the most accurate word as he was once more bound - quite literally - by their latest scheme. “Yes, yes, hellfire, brimstone, flay the flesh from my bones. I was hoping you might play the part a little better, Archdu- ” They paused halfway through his title, a far more wicked grin crossing their features. “ Archangel .” They finished on the last row of feathers, checking how firm the golden ropes and vicious daggers pinning his wings spread and open against the metal support were, ensuring he wouldn’t bother struggling. They floated back on a current of magic to properly admire their work, checking the book they summoned to their hand to ensure that everything was just right. Raphael was in his cambion form already, horns painted with gold with a large ornate ring suspended on fine thread between them as a glittering halo. He was dressed in a pure white robe that stopped midway down his thigh. Half of his chest was equally exposed, and his hands were bound with a thin but impressively strong golden rope in a mockery of prayer. A liberal application of golden glitter made his entire form appear to sparkle amidst the twinkling lights as he was held aloft at the top of an unreasonably large evergreen tree. Decorated soul coins hung from ribbons in the higher branches, out of reach of where most of the guests would be in the expansive hall below. The rest of the tree bore a variety of garish baubles, patterns of magical fire and dancing light cantrips being constantly cast by debtors hidden beneath the base, barely able to see from the ribbon-tied boxes they were secured inside, under strict orders not to let the decorations flicker or fade for even a moment. “Now, all you need do is sing .” Haarlep made a swift motion with their hand, their lovely little item buried deep inside Raphael suddenly coming to life and drawing out a prolonged whine from his lips. “Hmmm…you can do better.” Another motion sent the short mild shock of lightning through the pins piercing specific points up the cambion’s back, including several in the most sensitive points just above his tail and at the point his wings joined near his shoulders. This time, the noise from him hit a higher pitch. “Much better.” Haarlep smirked with satisfaction at the disappointed sigh as they left him without any stimulation again, only the feeling of what was there, the pained anticipation of never knowing when they’d next activate their little toys. “Now, you be nice up there, and you might just get your present later~” Their wings stretched in a lazy mimicry of flying as the magic carried them back to the floor. They noted the perfect view, if a guest were to stand in just the right spot beneath the tree, they would see everything . “Here. Hang that silly plant right here.” He motioned to one of the debtors who was helping decorate the hall, stringing the mistletoe on a fine thread they conjured from the high ceiling above. ---

--- Some time later

--- --- “Oh, right, mine’s last then.” She nervously teased the bow open, the paper falling away to reveal two items. The first was a dark flask, the glass itself looking like warm flames were moving within it, a thicker liquid swirling inside. “Do be careful with that now, Little Rat, do not get greedy . Just a drop or two in a drink should be more than potent enough, when you aren’t able to take it from the source.” At those words, they leaned in close tilting her chin up with a single claw and kissing her deeply, a sweeter passion to it, she might have been forgiven for thinking there was just a touch of genuine emotion. “Now, why don’t you look at the other half of your gift.” Their hand drifted down her arm, lifting her wrist as she still held the silk bag by the drawstrings. She passed the bottle of what was now rather obviously distilled aphrodisiac from the incubus themselves over to Halsin to hold for a moment as she began to pull the object from within the fabric. “This is…well, I assume it’s similar to other items you have?” “Not precisely.” They ran their own finger up the length of the decidedly phallic object, coloured deep red with familiar ridges along it. “Right now, it bears Raphael’s likeness , as you can tell. However, you can have it take the form of others, should you wish. All you need do is make a little deal with them - similar to my own, but far simpler. Just use it and kiss them while it is inside you, speaking their name whilst holding it will then transform it into their form.” “What’s the catch?” She eyed them suspiciously as they continued to caress the toy, squeezing at the tip for good measure. “When it’s in their shape, saying their name again while holding it will allow them to feel everything you do with it, much like you feel it if I take your form.” They grinned and dug a sharp nail just below the tip, and Tav once again heard that sound from above. “That…” She began, holding the toy in her hand as she had an idea form. “Haarlep.” She said once, watching the fiend’s eyes widen for a moment as they toy changed in size and shape, the hue changing to a dark tan. “So you did attune it to yourself when you made it, you cheeky devil~” Astarion winked at the incubus, watching the subtle changes in their face. “Haarlep.” Tav repeated, looking them in the eye as she took the item in her hand and began to run her own fingers up and down the length. “It is you…but not the one we know.” The incubus touched the toy quickly. “Raphael.” They uttered, in a hushed tone. “Do not think on that too much, Little Thief, some things even you should not steal.” They put the toy back in the silk bag for her, tying the string. “Something for later , you will have little need of it tonight.” ---

[karmaphone]

hey. idk who needs to hear this today but you need to watch bad movies

[stoopakoopa]

Day 8 - Reunion

Drew out a little snippet from @donze-trash's fic for @mesdelostrescaballeros2024!!

Part of a larger continuity being uploaded on ao3! Read it below ⬇️

Donald pulled up outside the apartment where Panchito was staying and took a deep, fortifying breath. Of course he was excited to see his friend again! Of course he was excited for The Three Caballeros to be once more reunited, even if only for a day. There was just that one catch—he felt bad even calling it a catch, like it was somehow a bad thing that he and Zé had finally professed their love for one another—but it would always be awkward telling Panchito. Surely, the duck thought with an internal groan, things would unavoidably change within the trio.

To make it all worse, José had been away on flight shifts when Panchito arrived in town, and Donald had agreed to only break the news when his new boyfriend had returned. He was a terrible liar about this kind of thing: his tongue got all tied up and his beak chattered when he spoke. How in the hell was he supposed to—?

The Donald Duck Pity Party was cut short as sharp, energetic chatter caught his ear from the street: Panchito was being seen off and heading straight for the car. Donald flung himself toward the back seat, toward the gift José had planned to hand over today, and hastily threw a spare blanket over it. The thick, scratchy wool did a decent job of concealing the obvious shape of a brand new guitar, at least if you didn't pay it mind. They'd give it to him when they were all together. That's how they were supposed to do things. Together.

Panchito appeared, waving goodbye to someone before bounding out of the apartment complex. His face lit up when he saw Donald, and before Donald could even get a word out, Panchito had leapt into the front seat, pulling him into a bear hug. His wide sombrero wobbled dangerously, but he didn't seem to care.

"¡Ay caramba, amigo! What took you so long to get here?" Panchito exclaimed, yanking Donald into his arms despite protest from his seatbelt, all to kiss Donald's cheek with his usual enthusiasm.

"'Ey, Pancho! How you doin' amigo?" The duck choked out, finding it a little easier to act natural amid the strangulation.

Panchito released Donald to pinch his cheek playfully. "Better with you here! I've been working on that new song I told you about last night! What about you? What have you been up to all day?"

"I'm doin' swell! And nothing much! Been taking 'er easy today." He lied, and not well—he was already talking too much. "Excited, though! Not every day I get to hang out with my two best pals!" Donald pulled away from Panchito's hold in order to return his attention to driving, feeling too awkward to linger in the warm hold, however much he usually would.

The charro clicked the seatbelt into place and leaned back in his seat, apparently unfazed by the duck's haste. "Ay güey, I'm just hyped that we are finally getting together again for a change. So, what are we doing this time? Are we gonna hit up the club so hard we get kicked out again? Or maybe reopen the Magical Mythical Monster Petting Zoo from Scrooge's secret vault? Or how about we raid the Anvilania embassy and get the ambassador drunk again? You know she still calls me." 

Donald nodded, absolutely not absorbing anything the rooster was clucking about in favor of focusing on the road. He was happy, of course; his friend's exuberance was infectious to say the least. It had indeed been too long since they got to hang out like this as a group… but a part of him still felt tense. He chanced another glance at the vaquero—oblivious, humming merrily, a long leg resting against the door as he propped up his foot on his knee and took up what little space his seat offered. He wished he could feel so carefree.

When they arrived at the little airport, Panchito's excitement was hard to miss. Before the car could even finish pulling up to the 15-minute zone, he'd unbuckled and bolted out of the car window, running ahead towards the tarmac and calling out for Zé at the top of his lungs.

"Yeah, don't wait up or nothing!" Donald called after him with a roll of his eyes. Crazy bird, he hadn't even put the car into park yet!  The lighthearted atmosphere Panchito had cultivated was at war with the impulse to complain bubbling inside him because he wanted see Zé first, to get a chance to hold his boyfriend first before they had to act respectably platonic in front of their none the wiser companion. It wasn't jealousy, not exactly, just…

One hug, one second to let the weight of the week melt off was all he wanted. But that wasn't happening. Not yet. Instead, he'd have to wait and keep playing the part.

"Great," he muttered, jerking on the car's parking brake. "Just act natural. Simple."

The airport, while always abuzz with people from all walks of life and from every corner of the globe, was relatively less hectic on a weekday like this, and José was all the more grateful for it. Deplaning the small jet from Panama was fairly routine and done quickly, leaving Zé with a little free time before he met up with his friends. He brought with him his single suitcase, loaded with more clothes than his usual amount, plus some souvenirs from Brazil and the several other countries he had stopped in during the work week. There were things for the kids back at the manor, plus a homemade gaúcho style poncho pala made by his vovó for Della (whom the old bird had assumed was still freezing from her time on the Moon).  Strapped to the outside of the suitcase (because it could not fit) and wrapped in cloth was José's gift to Donald, a new hammock for his houseboat. He hoped he would like it.

Walking to the exit, Zé attempted to steal himself for the reunion to come. Not so much for seeing Donald, though his blood ran quick with excitement for him to be sure. But Panchito, whom he had not seen since they met for that ill-fated holiday to Bahia that never came to fruition. They had kept in constant contact even after their break up, though it caused pain on both sides. They had been determined to preserve their eternal friendship even in the face of romantic disappointment. And though it took some years for Zé to be able to look the rooster in the face without the unbearable ache in his chest urging him to take it all back and try again, he never wanted to lose sight of what drew him and the other two Caballeros together in the first place. They were his family, no matter what happened.

Even when I act like a stupid teenager and run crying to my ex-boyfriend about my hopeless crush, which turned out to be not so hopeless after all because we're together now and— Merda!

Zé closed his eyes and inhaled slowly. It was very good that he had this spare moment to compose himself as he entered the airport proper.

The distant sound of a familiar crow cut through the din of the crowd, stopping Zé in his tracks. That voice—there was no mistaking it. And like the call to sunrise, it made his heart want to leap into the sky. Spotting a tall flash of red, and a hat that he insisted was too big for his head, standing tall amongst the crowd, Zé dropped his suitcase and his umbrella and ran forward like his tail was on fire. Before he even had time to think about it, he was launching himself into Panchito's arms. The rooster caught him instantly, just like old times.

"¡¡AAAAAAJAJAJAJAJA!!" Panchito's triumphant grito echoed across the terminal. His grip was tight, almost desperate, and his wide grin spoke volumes. Zé could feel the emotion radiating from him—Panchito had missed him more than words could ever say, that much was clear. His whole body seemed to hum with excitement. 

"José!! Mi cielo!" Panchito crowed, his voice overflowing with affection as he slowly, reluctantly, released the green parrot. 

Zé smiled warmly, returning the sentiment. "It is so good to see you, docinho!" His tone was as light and affectionate as ever. "It has been too long!"

"No manches, pendejo, it's only been a few months!" Panchito guffawed, his eyes sparkling with unfiltered happiness. His grin stretched wide as he shook his head in disbelief, the warmth in his expression unmistakable. The man was an open book, his emotions always worn on his sleeve.

The malandro chuckled softly, adjusting his hat. "Well, yes, but it has been twice as long since the three of us have been—" He stopped, scanning the area. "Espere, onde está o Donald?" 

Panchito's expression shifted briefly—a flicker of realization, maybe impatience. He glanced back toward the car, where Zé knew Donald must still be catching up. The vaquero's elation had clearly driven him to rush ahead, leaving their other friend behind. Zé could almost feel the mixture of emotions brewing under Panchito's playful exterior, a familiar tug of longing buried in the joy of reunion.

But Zé knew better than to bring that up. He simply smiled again, his voice calm, teasing. "Always in a rush, eh  mano?" 

"Life is too short to sit still," the rooster replied assuredly, and his hand which still rested on his waist in a half hug pulled him in for just an instant, a punctuation to the point. 

"Hey, ya found 'im! Over here, guys!!!!" a distinctive voice cut through the busy hum of the arrival hall and Zé immediately turned towards the sound, his heart immediately catapulting into the stratosphere.

"DONAL'!" he and Panchito shouted in unison, their voices echoing across the platform. The moment the malandro caught sight of Donald looking flustered and determined as ever as he weaved through the crowd, all the excitement, the nerves, the longing came rushing back to him. He broke from Panchito's hold to sprint to him with ever increasing urgency, his heart pounding not from exertion but from sheer jubilation.

Quickly he closed the distance between them, throwing his arms around the sailor and pulling him into a tight embrace. He fit into his arms perfectly, and for a moment he didn't want to let go. Donald absorbed the impact with ease and let Zé down safely, the rest of the world seeming to melt away in an instant. Zé quickly buried his face into Donald's shoulder, feeling the comforting weight of his lover's arms around him. There was relief, adoration, and an overwhelming sense of peace. Even for just a fleeting moment, everything felt right—like he was where he belonged.

"Meu querido..." Zé whispered softly, just for Donald, though he didn't linger on the words. He knew this interlude was fleeting.

Sure enough, as if sensing their private moment was up, Donald's voice broke through their quiet intimacy. "Panchito...?" Donald called, one arm still wrapped around Zé as he extended the other towards their rambunctious rooster to include him.

Zé was too distracted with cuddling up to his sailor's side to register the gleam in Panchito's eye, at first. As it was, it was only the loud, triumphant yell that signaled their impending doom, and the parrot felt he had little choice but to make sure he didn't endure it alone, his arm holding his duck in place.

"No, wait—!" Donald started, but it was too late.

Panchito came down hard from where he had launched himself into the air like a luchador delivering his finishing move. Elbow extended, he crashed into the two of them with the energy of a firecracker bursting on impact. Donald let out a choked WAK! of surprise, his arms flailing as he was knocked clean off balance. Zé, caught in the middle of it all, simply accepted his fate with a laugh, not even trying to brace for the collision.

They tumbled down in a heap of feathers, beaks, and limbs, Zé wedged between his two best friends, both of them piled on top of Donald, who lay sprawled at the bottom. He could feel Donald wheezing beneath him, dazed from the sudden assault, while Panchito—of course—was perched victoriously at the top of the pile, leaning on one elbow like he owned the world.

"Órale! ¿Que te pasa? You were supposed to catch me!" Panchito chortled, looking entirely too pleased with himself as he flashed a wide, playful grin down at the both of them. "I could have gotten hurt!" 

"God forbid…" Donald rasped weakly.

Zé couldn't help but chuckle, even as he lay squashed in the middle. Completely unconcerned by the chaos, he wiggled into a more comfortable position between them, his head resting against Donald's back. He could feel the frantic beat of his partner's heart beneath his cheek, could hear the shallow breaths as Donald tried to recover. There was no tension, no frustration. Just pure, unbridled affection. Even in moments like this—especially in moments like this—Zé felt nothing but love for the both of them.

This was how it had always been with the three of them. Chaos and laughter, roughhousing and tenderness, all tangled together in one messy, beautiful friendship.

"Well, caras," Zé sighed contentedly, "it is good to be back where I belong."

"Where, with all of ya on top of me?" the sailor beneath him groaned, barely able to get out a full breath with all the pressure bearing down on him.

Don't tempt me, the malandro thought before immediately shelving it for later.

[onlyangel4]

cowboy like me. ls2. smau.

logan sargeant x cowgirl/small town country singer!reader

in which logan thinks he has lost everything but a trip to the south helps him find the love of his life.

author's note: grant is a fictional character, for this he is one of logan's best friends.

faceclaim: ella langley

y/ninsta

liked by y/bff, friend1, friend2 and 431 others

tagged: y/bff

y/ninsta: life lately

view all 23 comments

y/bff: has nutmeg decided to not be a dick anymore

y/ninsta: how many times do i have to apologise for my horse

y/bff: she almost killed me!

friend1: can't wait to see you perform this weekend, gonna cheer embarrassingly loud

y/ninsta: i'll take all the support i can get

logansargeant posted a story tagging grantwilson

written: trusting grant with directions was a bad idea, we are 100% lost right now

y/ninsta posted a story

written: playing here tonight, if you loved me you would show up and listen to my silly little songs

y/ninsta posted a story

written: tonight's fit

logansargeant posted a story

written: recharging with some live music in nashville

y/ninsta posted a story

written: about to introduce a man to nutmeg, this is going to end terribly

logansargeant posted two stories

story one written: this is nutmeg. shortly after this photo was taken nutmeg tried to kill me. i shall be riding a different horse today

story two written: this is billy, he didn't try to kill me

y/ninsta posted a story

written: i am once again riding nutmeg because she tries to kill everyone but me

grantwilson posted a story tagging logansargeant

written: i just picked logan up from the ranch, this trip is going just how i planned it

y/ninsta posted a story

written: i think i clean up pretty well

logansargeant

liked by y/ninsta, alexalbon, grantwilson and 1,293,382 others

tagged: y/ninsta

logansargeant: three months ago grant forced me on a roadtrip that i did not want to go on. and i ended up never going back to florida. i was at a very low point mentally and i had no idea what my next step was going to be but meeting you changed my life.

y/n your light has helped me in ways you will never understand, thank you for always being around to listen, for teaching me how to ride a horse and always being up for fun little adventures. i love you so much and i can't wait to see what the future brings us

view all 183,384 comments

y/ninsta: i am obsessed with you

logansargeant: promise me, i am more obsessed with you

grantwilson: just call me cupid

logansargeant: no

y/ninsta: no

alexalbon: so the man that used to make fun of me for having a zoo now lives with animals

y/ninsta: two horses, three dogs, two cats and two rabbits

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

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[roxineedstosleep]

Could you do a snippet for yandere platonic Batfam where reader accidentally gets hurt and is able to hide it for a few days until someone (May be Dick?) finds it and asks / gets upset about it? Love your writing!!! ♥️♥️♥️♥️

Hi there!!!

First of all: Thank you sweetie!

It's been a while since I've written, mostly because of the university, I'm about to graduate and I'm crazy because I'm approaching my final exams (I even have to defend my research work to be able to get my bachelor's degree)!

But, I got to thinking a bit about what you have written above… and even more so because I myself am a little bit crashed after my last film shoot for my final year of my degree. And can I just say that being in a bad way and having to hide it is terrible.

So… here goes!

(I'm sorry if I sound a bit comical in this writing, but I think the best way to get over something is to laugh at yourself a bit so you don't think about the pain too much; I hope you enjoy it anyway.)

Disclaimer: I don't know if you've noticed, but English is not my native/mother tongue. Occasionally, when I think too much, I write them in my language and then translate it in a trusted translator. So, if there's a grammatical problem or a strange term, it's the translator's fault.

Let's face it… having a large family is terribly exhausting.

It's never quiet enough, everyone is in everyone else's business, you can't leave your favorite mermelade in the fridge for less than a day. Someone is always occupying the bathroom or using your favorite shampoo or watching something on TV at too much volume and someone is probably occupying your bed at nap time.

Did I mention about meddling too much in other people's business? Yes? Well… triple it.

Having multiple siblings was new.

Having multiple siblings, a father and a butler/grandfather isn't exactly bread and butter either.

It wouldn't be so bad to belong to a large and numerous one if it was your blood family and you had lived with them all your life. I mean, sometimes blood is too thick and you have no choice but to learn to love them or just be nice to each other.

Like I said, it wouldn't be so bad if they were really your family.

But the Waynes were not your family. Not distant relatives or anything like that.

You were just living your life, as quietly as possible… and poof!

New room, new butler/grandfather, pets beyond belief, 4 new male siblings and a father with serious emotional constipation issues. And, to add more salt to your wound…. all have serious abandonment issues and death-related trauma.

After several escape attempts, sleep strikes, hunger strikes and any other kind of protest that an anarchist could be proud of… you realized that it was simply impossible to get out of this without risking the path of death.

Which, to top it all off, was also unreliable because apparently your older brother Jason had revived as well as another of your siblings. So no, dying was also not a viable option to which one could resort in the worst case scenario.

What to do?

Well, not much. Trying not to die of suffocation of affection or finding a way to have privacy while going to the bathroom just seemed to be the best survival tools you could resort to.

What does that entail?

It implies that Tim was going to give you hours and hours of lectures on his latest discovery of a case, even if you don't understand half the things he's told you or mentioned at all.

Richard and Damian trying to teach you new tricks almost every second, taking you to the Zoo or not leaving you alone to go to the bathroom.

That Jason, oh holy cow he is the only one more relaxed, takes you with him on his motorcycle to eat ice cream and to the public library. Without being able to scape, because it seems that you have a kind of GPS inserted in the bone marrow.

(Sometimes you don't know if it's true or not, but sometimes you also felt pain between your bones, almost during the cold seasons, and you didn't want to burst your poor little head thinking of different viable possibilities knowing them. No scars, no remembering anythins about any surgery).

Have a grandfather who will not hesitate to make you cookies, your favorite foods whenever you want … without leaving you aside at any time.

Plus a terribly quiet father, who if he can will carry you for as long as you spend time together, won't let you near the secret basement and enjoys being in the same room with you.

Do you see any privacy in this?

No, because even at the bathroom door would be the pets trying to get in and see you for themselves while you want to do your business.

The worst of that? Titus always judge you when you close the curtains.

As I mentioned and it was clear: Having a large family implies little privacy… Having a large, obsessive family means NO privacy.

So, knowing that you have over 50 nanochips tracking in all your clothes, two security monitors embedded - God knows how - in your body (monitors that only tell you if you are in designated safe place), 20 high definition surveillance cameras in every room and a Great Dane chasing you like a chick …. How the heck do you fall down the stairs and hit your pelvic bone without anyone noticing?

No kidding, how?

And if you had to blame someone for your fall… you'd totally blame Damian for it.

It's not that the kid pushed you down the stairs, but over time he had tamed himself into various things and relaxed into looking his age. You know!!! He started acting like a normal teenager!

What do Damian's kids do at his age? Well, they leave things lying around and have messing around them when they can, of course they do!

You just wanted some yogurt with orange marmalade. Maybe some oatmeal cookies. Alfred had left it for you in the fridge when he noticed you'd been watching video tutorials on homemade marmalade for hours. Who were you to deny such a gesture of generosity?

I mean, Alfred was the one who allowed you to hide in the attic for hours on end so you could have some time to yourself.

And how did it end? You, slipping down the main stairs of the old Wayne mansion, down a nicely polished wooden staircase, rolling all the way down (which is no small flight of stairs, it should be noted) to the bottom of the first floor.

Now, lying on the ground is not so bad in itself. What is bad is not being able to feel your legs and still not being able to understand how you manage to tidy up your neural wiring so that your legs can still move on their own and go to the kitchen to rescue all the delicacies Alfred left you in time.

And it's a good thing you managed to do it… because within seconds Bart had rushed in to ransack the fridge and the fruit basket.

But that's not the point.

The important thing is that this time you managed, I insist a little on the feat of action, to climb up to your room and not notice how you couldn't really feel your legs.

You ate, you lay down… and to your bad or good luck, you couldn't get up …. and without anyone noticing there was an emergency and everyone went out to sort it out.

Weak limbs, limited movement and you don't want to mention the embarrassing actions you did in order to go to the toilet.

It's not like you hid it either, I mean, there was no one who could even notice because they weren't entirely available to watch you. Nor is it that you would have run away, otherwise they would have been at your side in less than a second.

The detail, as they insist, is that you had probably bruised your back badly and your body was now taxing you extra for your food craving.

I insist, you did not hide anything.

But still, when you're found completely itchy on the floor, ridiculously trying to run away in the direction of the bathroom… that's when everyone really goes crazy.

First, having to carry you and not dying of embarrassment when you notice that Bruce definitely doesn't give a damn about having to carry you to the bathroom and do almost everything for you.

Or having Dick and Jason carry you and fit you into some kind of weird medical scanner they have in the cave.

Or that Tim keeps track of your periods, types of meds you take and, for fuck's sake, knows how the fuck to inject something into your spine.

Or that Damian had the gall to look a little embarrassed when he heard that a pair of boxers lying outside the laundry basket was to blame for all this.

NO matter.

At the end of the day they heal you, pamper you, leave you alone when you need to take a nap and figure out a way to fix it without looking like complete maniacs who built some kind of internal plumbing that sucks up the dirty laundry and throws it straight into the washing machine.

Like the time they didn't look like maniacs by sanding all the edges of the tables and nightstands.

Or the time they bought a whole brand of sanitary towels when they realised that not all women use tampons.

Don't worry, they're looking out for you… even if they look like deranged Arkhan freaks in the process.

[theminecraftbee]

The thing in her cargo hold is looking at her again.

Really, Gem should have sold it by now. If the fishmonger had refused to take it--and really, it seems unlikely, Gem thinks, that the fishmonger would refuse to take it; he has taken and carved up and made meals of far stranger fish than one with a human face and hands and torso--she could have easily sold it to the man on the train, who takes exotic catches for his zoo. She could have even taken it to Grian; it's not a mending book, but it's the sort of thing he'd like to make fun of her for catching, instead of anything she's after.

Really, she should have. The longer she keeps the thing in her cargo hold, the more it starts to look properly human to her. She should know better. She has caught far stranger fish, and none of them have been human. It's another trick these seas have been playing on her, she thinks.

Long nights alone do that to a woman.

She ignores it. Instead, she opens the lid of the tank and starts depositing salmon. "It's a really weird request, that I keep them alive the whole time. You won't eat them, right?" Gem says, knowing the thing in her cargo hold can't answer. "Because if you eat them, this time, I really am going to sell you to the fishmonger. Or maybe I can figure out how to get fillets from you on my own? I've certainly eaten weirder fish..."

The thing in the cargo hold continues to stare. It has eyes that look like little moons, and brown hair, and it is smiling for some reason. Gem huffs.

"Don't give me that look! You are a fish. I am a fisherman. If mere human faces stopped me from doing my job, I would have gone mad a long time ago."

The thing in the cargo hold smiles wider. The lights flicker. Gem rolls her eyes and finishes putting salmon in the tank. As though to spite her, the thing in the cargo hold immediately lashes out, grabbing one in the claws on her otherwise-human hands and then tearing it apart with razor-sharp teeth. Blood rises on the water. Gem sighs.

"I have a harpoon in here somewhere, or at least a very sharp knife," she says to herself. She doesn't really want to use her nice knife, the one she always keeps on her belt, but she ought to have another knife around with which she can finish the job, right?

The lights flicker and go out. When she looks across at the tank, there are two silvery-moon eyes looking at her.

Gem pulls a wire. Gem turns the lights back on. She takes a deep breath.

"I really should have sold you by now, really. If the fishmonger won't take you, then the zookeeper would love you," Gem says.

The radio crackles. Gem startles. Very, very few people ever contact her on the shipboard radio, but if she's getting a signal, that's more important than a grudge match with a fish. She heads over to answer the call.

An amalgamation of voices responds:

YOU ARE FUNNY. I HAVE A MESSAGE. A DELIVERY. YOU'VE TRAPPED ME THOUGH.

Slowly, Gem turns around to the thing in the cargo hold.

"This won't stop me from treating you like a fish," she says. "If messages from the ocean stopped me--"

A terrible, crackling laugh sounds from the radio.

I AM THE MOON'S PEARL. YOU WILL NOT HOLD ME FOREVER. WE WILL SEE WHO EATS WHO.

Gem wags her finger. "We'll see, for sure, as long as you don't eat my salmon. That man in the fish-scaled suit was VERY insistent, you know."

TELL ME MORE.

"You're tying up my radio. What if there's another ship? What if there's something important?"

OH GEM. YOU KNOW THERE WON'T BE.

Gem swallows.

The thing in the cargo hold is staring at her.

"I need to sleep. I need to go to shore," she says.

YOU WON'T, the radio says.

She won't.

[inkdrinkerworld]

Hello again I’m the one addicted to your dealer!remus writing, you have such a good way of writing his character and I love it! Anyways I hope you’re feeling better I’m currently poorly as well and it sucks. If you’re feeling up to it I would love more of your writing. Maybe a dealer!remus who meets fem reader at a ren faire and she’s like a siren or fairy or something? Idk I trust you

Also if you don’t have a 🐡 or 🫧 anon I would love to be one or both of those since I have a feeling you might be seeing more of me 🥰

I hope this is okay! I’ve never been to a ren faire but I’d love to go one day though! Of course you can be both!

“You’re a nymph.” A man in pirate costume says as he helps you climb up the stairs to the stalls.

You’re in a sheer purple skirt that has vines hanging down to your thighs, there’s a slit somewhere that shows off your skin and your green blouse has sleeves that flow down your arms and behind you.

The chains in your waist clink as the crystals hanging on them knock against each other with each step.

“And you’re a pirate,” you take a glance at his eyes and flash him a smile when you notice how red his eyes are. “A very high pirate.”

The pirate man smiles, a silver scar splitting his lip making him look handsome. His sandy brown hair also works with his outfit, making it look like he’s spent years at sea with the sun and salt water to bleach his hair.

“They do like their influences.” He says making you laugh. “What about nymphs?”

You give a demure shrug, “We do live amongst them.” The pirate man’s hand shifts to your shoulder, adjusting some of the leaves and foliage there.

You know in your bones this man is a flirt, especially when he flashes you an easy smile when you look up at him.

“Is this your first ren faire?” You ask you walk ahead of him, smiling when you hear his boots clicking as he follows behind you.

“Second, but my friends seem to have abandoned me.”

You glance over your shoulder, finding the pirate man tucking a roll on behind his ear. You never would have imagined a simple action like that would be so attractive. “I can keep you company for the time being then. Will you drink tap beer?”

When he nods you smile and order two glasses.

“Where are your friends? Or are you a veteran of the ren faire?” You ask as you wait for the beer, leaning on the counter as you look at the man before you.

He has this soft beauty to him and his pirate get up makes it rogue-ish but also there’s flashes of the softness of it all underneath it all.

You smile as the pirate man rushes to pay, and hands you your glass first. “It’s my fifth year, but my friends are about somewhere.” You take a sip of your beer. “To be honest, I snuck away to save myself from being tie breaker to a game of darts.”

Your new friend raises an eyebrow and you spy another scar slicing through the skin there. “What’s so bad about darts?”

Your tone turns bashful and you look up at him through your eyelashes, “I have terrible aim. What’s missing from this outfit is a pair of glasses that irritate my eyes much less than the contacts I’m currently wearing.”

The pirate man falters for a moment your gaze soft yet intense as you look up at him. “I see. What would you rather be doing then?”

You smile, “My favourite parts are the jousting tournaments and the petting zoo. Also spending loads on trinkets.”

The man nods, about to say something in reply when a pair of pirates, one lanky with black hair and one burly rush up to him.

“Remus you can’t just wander off! We’ve been looking for you for ages.”

You laugh at the way the pirate man, Remus, flushes. Pink looks good on him.

He looks back and smiles at you and it’s even more handsome the second time; especially when it seems intimate and shared just between the two of you.

“I was here getting something to drink with the pretty nymph.” He gestures to you and you give his friends a wave and introduce yourself.

Remus tucks away the sound of your name in every nook in his mind. It suits you entirely.

The black haired one smirks and the burly one gives you a dimpled smile hello.

“How chivalrous, did he bore you to death with the fact that he’s about to be jousting and the historical reasons behind it?” The lanky one asked, clearly teasing his friend.

“No he did not, but now I’m even more excited to look at the tournament.” There’s a wicked grin on the black haired boy’s face.

Remus turns to you, “Does that mean you’ll toss me a ring of flowers?” He’s a flirt in all the ways, and by god you’d probably pass away if he looks at you any more intensely.

“Maybe I will, Remus.” You leave then, giving him a wave and a smile as you walk off towards the tents that sell all the odds and ends.

The black haired man turns to him, “You better hope you win, Moony. How embarrassing would it be if you let the pretty girl down.”

Remus rolls his shoulders back as he drains his beer, no pressure then, he thinks to himself. Maybe he’ll even get your number if he wins.

[starlightshadowsworld]

Bsd except the Agency full on gaslight the Port Mafia when they come to collect Atsushi’s bounty.

Because the bounty isn’t for Atsushi Nakajima it’s for the tiger. It never mentions him nor even says the tigers an ability user.

Atsushi’s low key freaking out but he’s placed beside Kenji who’s cheerfully talking about something else. And keeping Atsushi distracted from everything.

Yosano: So you’re trying to insinuate that Atsushi’s a weretiger? What’s next, a vampire?

Dazai: Can’t be, he didn’t try to bite me when we met. Although, I wonder if having all my blood drained by a vampire would be a good method of suicide.

Ranpo: No, you’d turn too and live forever.

Dazai: Thank goodness I have you here Ranpo to stop me making such a terrible mistake.

Fukuzawa: I think I would notice if one of my employees could turn into a tiger.

Kunikida: Atsushi has stayed back later than he should on more than one occasion.

Yosano: You’re one to talk.

Junichiro: Exactly, it would be pretty hard to miss.

Naomi: Why? Have you guys seen Atsushi transform into a tiger?

Silence.

Ranpo: Case Closed next time go find a zoo before wasting our time.

Fyodor ends up with a normal tiger shipped to him.

[why-animals-do-the-thing]

Y'all regularly send in questions wanting to know how to report concerns you've observed at zoos you've visited. I've been able to point people at the USDA (regulatory) option, but with regard to accrediting groups I haven't had a good answer. I spent the last six months or so really digging into why there hasn't been a good answer. What I've found is that the majority of zoological accrediting groups in the United States don't provide any way for the public to report issues they've observed at accredited facilities, and none of said organizations have a mechanism for truly supporting / protecting staff who might choose to report issues at their own facilities. Which is. not great.

I wrote a whole Substack post about it a few days ago, arguing that in order to remain credible institutions accrediting groups must facilitate public reporting, anonymous reporting, and commit to enforcing penalties for any retaliation against staff who choose to utilize the option. I'm linking it below for anyone who is interested in all the details. CW at the beginning for animal abuse mentions - I started the piece by discussing a truly egregious welfare situation that occurred last year at a Miami facility, which might have been prevented or at least caught earlier if the two groups that accredit the facility had had a reporting mechanism in place.

What I want to talk about here, though, is specifically why accrediting orgs need to not only have an anonymous reporting option for staff, but why they must ban retaliation and penalize any facility that does it anyway. Whenever something terrible happens at a zoo or sanctuary, people always ask "why didn't the staff say something?" And the answer is, basically, because taking that risk can get you not just fired, but blacklisted from the field. People literally end up having to choose between their careers and making noise about issues that aren't being resolved, and that's absolutely not freaking okay. But I want to explain for you the extent of the issue.

If you're not industry, something you might be surprised to learn is that most zoo staff don't have any special reporting options above and beyond what the public does. Most zookeepers and other low-level staff never interact with people from accrediting groups except during an actual inspection - so if there's a problem, it's not like they know someone they can back-channel a concern to if they don't feel safe reporting it publicly. And for the most part, reporting things your facility is doing to an accrediting group will always be considered inappropriate and probably get a keeper in trouble (even if it's a really valid issue).

The zoological industry runs on a strongly hierarchical system. Staff are expected to “stay within their lanes” and work within the established bureaucracy to resolve issues. Deviating from this, if staff feel like management are suppressing issues or something needs to be addressed urgently, is very heavily frowned upon. Basically, going around management to bring something to an accrediting group (or USDA, or the media) is seen as indicating that your facility has failed to address a problem, or that the individual making the report feels they know more than their superiors. At most places, no matter how extreme an issue may become, there's never a point at which it would be acceptable for a staff member to reveal a facility’s internal issues to their accrediting body. 

The thing is, attempting to resolve issues through the proper internal channels at a facility doesn't always work! It can result in an issue being covered up (especially if the company is kinda shady) or suppressed rather than addressed. If staff decide to push the issue, it can really backfire and jeopardize their job, because it's expected that if management says something is fine, staff need to acquiesce and go along with it.

There have been a couple high-profile examples of this in the last decade: the incident I mention in my Substack where new management at the Miami Seaquarium decided to starve dolphins to coerce them into participating in guest programs, and an issue at the Austin Zoo five-ish years ago where the director was perpetuating serious welfare issues and ignoring staff feedback. In both cases, there's always the questions of where the accrediting group was. We don't know anything about what happened with the Seaquarium (it's been over six months since the USDA report documenting the diet cuts was released and AMMPA and American Humane haven't said a thing), but I remember hearing that ZAA had no idea what was happening at Austin because nobody had reached out to them about it.

This is why I'm arguing that all zoological accrediting groups need to make visible reporting options and make sure staff feel safe enough to use them! If you've got a facility perpetuating or not dealing with major issues, it's pretty probable that they're going to be unhappy if their staff reports those issues to any oversight body. That's not a situation where it's currently safe to speak up right now - and four out of five zoological accrediting groups in the US don't have standards prohibiting retaliation against staff for bringing up issues like that! (Surprisingly, it's not AZA. It's the sanctuary accrediting group, GFAS). Without any option for internal reporting, issues may not get addressed - which hurts animal welfare - or people risk losing their job, possibly their entire career in the field (which is a huge part of people's identities!), and their financial stability to advocate for their animals.

Currently, the two accrediting groups that do have reporting options (AZA and GFAS) stay they'll attempt to keep reports anonymous, but acknowledge it may not be possible to do so. (Which tracks, because zoo jobs are highly specialized and only a few people may be exposed to an issue). However, only GFAS prohibits facilities from retaliating against people who make reports. On top of that, there's absolutely no transparency about what happens next: GFAS, ZAA, AMMPA and AH have no information about how the process transpires and if someone making a report will get any information back about what happened. AZA straight up says that all accreditation stuff is proprietary (read: confidential) so you just have to trust that they dealt with it appropriately. Just yeet your report into the void and hope the groups doing oversight handle it correctly when there's no accountability? That's... not a great look for animal welfare concerns.

I hope the industry chooses to fix this problem. I hope it chooses to invest in transparency and increased credibility. I don't know what I expect, but I'd like to see these accrediting groups do the right thing.

My full write-up on how accrediting groups in the US handle reporting and concerns (or don't) is linked below.

[luveline]

Hello lovely Jade! Can we please get something where reader is watching a horror movie with best friend!Remus (that’s she’s head over heels for) and is so scared she ends up on his lap? Love you!

love you :D♡♡ fem, modern au

"I really don't like this." 

Remus laughs under his breath. "Don't be a scaredy cat," he whispers. 

You take the pillow from his lap without asking and hold it in front of your face, peering over the top as the TV turns quiet. Quiet means suspense, and suspense leads to jumpscares. 

"I always am," you whisper back, stretching back in your seat. 

The settee is old and dipped in the centre, leaving you and Remus thigh to thigh, as close as you can be to one another without having your legs tangled. "It's not that bad," Remus says, putting an arm behind you in a show of support. "It's hiding in the kitchen cupboard, watch." 

His warning doesn't stop the flinch of the demon's appearance nor the way you jump back, almost dropping your head into him. "Sorry," you say. 

"Don't apologise," he says, but it's lost as the horror keeps on coming— the demon possesses the daughter, the daughter splits her head open on a wall. Something sharp splinters from her face and it's disgusting, it's too much, you whine something silly and push the pillow over your eyes. "Dove, don't suffocate. Look, I think it's done now," he says.

You look as he tells you to, trusting of your oldest, bestest friend, and your loyalty is rewarded with another scare that catches you off guard completely, a fleshy face of black gore so close to the camera that it feels like it's in the room. You scramble away from the screen and into Remus' arms forcefully, turning away from the screen and into his embrace. "What the fuck," you gasp. 

Difficult to explain why you're genuinely frightened but not the immediate safety of Remus' arm behind you, the tight hold of it, the ridge of a bicep pressed hard to your shoulders. "I'll turn it off," he says quickly, though his hands stay right where they are on your jumper. 

He smells like sandalwood and autumn rain, that earthy smell of rain and crushed leaves, like a walk in the woods. You start to laugh as you breathe him in, aware of the terrible fool you've made of yourself and the humour in the situation, at least. 

"I'm so sorry," you laugh, moving back, careful not to knee him somewhere delicate. 

His face comes into view, not half as annoyed as you worried it would be, brown eyes sugary sweet with soft lashes to match, his hands falling to your elbows. "Let me pause it." He keeps a hand on the middle of your back, fingers spread, encapsulating. It says I'm here without asking for anything in return. "Fucking hell, dove, I know you have bad nerves, but I've never seen one get you like that." 

You should put some amicable space between you. Remus should drop his hand. Instead, you put your hand on his collarbone and catch your breath, the excitement an instant headache waiting to bloom behind your eyes. 

"There," he says, his gaze back on you. "That'll help." 

You glance over your shoulder. Remus has changed the channel to World of Zoo, where a baby panda tries to stand while holding its own foot. "Nice," you say, smiling sheepishly to yourself. Nice. You loser. 

You turn back suddenly when his hand strokes your cheek. Two fingers, the backs of his marriage and pinky, tracing a short line down your still trembling cheek. "Seriously, dove, calm down. You think I'd let something hurt you?" he asks softly.

"No, I–" Can he stop you from swallowing your own tongue. "Of course not." 

"I can't believe it," he says, dropping his hand. "Never seen you like that, what happened?" He rubs your back roughly like he's trying to warm you up. "Let me make you a cup of tea, lovely." 

He says this, and yet he makes no move to leave your side. His behaviour is almost as odd as the way you respond, sinking into his touch. 

[turcott3]

then he kissed me

nick moldenhauer x fem! reader

warnings?: light alcohol, cursing, fluff!!!!!

masterlist

-

you drag your feet through the kitchen aiming for your daily bowl of cereal, rubbing the sleep from your eyes

“what the fuck?” you question, walking out of your room for the first time today, seeing dylan, your roommates boyfriend, and all of the boys in your living room, scaring the living daylights out of you.

“don’t worry, we will be making you dinner since we’re staying here for a few days.” dylan replies quickly.

“you’re what?” you reply still in a sleepy state.

“oh did she not tell you?”

“tell me what?”

“our air conditioning broke and she offered to let us stay for a few days until it’s fixed.” nick butts in.

“oh, okay.” you reply, grabbing the box from your pantry, continuing your morning routine, this time with 5 pairs of eyes watching you.

“i feel like a zoo animal. quit staring.” you say giggling to them, as you take the bowl over to the couch.

you weren’t sure how many days they were going to be there but you sure enjoyed the idea of a group of good looking guys making you dinner every night.

-

“so what do you guys want us to make?” nick asks, standing in the kitchen with the boys, asking you and your roommates what you’d want for dinner.

“i could use a good steak? what about you guys?” you ask the other two and they nod.

“maybe like steak and mac and cheese?” one of your roommates replied.

“i feel like that’s doable.” dylan replies grabbing his keys.

“don’t forget we’re going out tonight guys.” your roommate yells from the bathroom and you sigh, walking into the kitchen.

“we’ll be back.” dylan says, convincing mark and ethan to tag along.

“they’re going out?” nick whispers to you

“yeah they go out every weekend. but i don’t drink or anything so i never go.” you reply, a disappointed look spreading across your face.

“i don’t drink either, i can just hang back with you if that’s okay?”

“yeah that’d be perfect.” you blush.

after a while the boys came home and put the food in the fridge, your roommates distracting them with liquor since it was now past 6 pm.

“well there goes dinner.” you sigh sitting next to nick on the couch as the girls finished getting ready for their weekly outing.

“hey its okay, we can cook once they leave. we know they’ll be out forever.” he replies.

“you’re right. i’m a terrible cook though.”

“it’s okay, i can teach you. we have plenty of time. and i promise it’s not that hard.” he giggles, a blush spreading on your cheeks.

“deal.”

-

“you think it’s seasoned enough?” you ask the boy who’s standing just across the island.

“yeah, i heated the skillet you can just plop it on there.” he says and you do so, carrying the steak over to the skillet and dropping it on there.

“now what?” you ask as he rounds the corner.

“we just wait.”

“wait until when?” you say hopping up onto the counter.

“until it’s cooked how you like it.” you say stepping toward you, arms on either side of your legs.

“what’s the one where it’s like a little bit pink in the middle?” you reply, trying to keep your eyes from gawking at the boy who’s less than a foot away from you.

“medium well i think is what you’re wanting.” he giggles, stepping away from you and checking the underside of the steak.

“i need to show you something.” he says holding his hand out for you to get off the counter. he steps to the side, you taking his original place.

“take the tongs and check the bottom.”

“it looks pretty brown.”

“alright now flip it.” he says and you pick it up, flipping it quickly.

“there you go, and now we wait again and we’ll cut her open to see how it looks.” he responds. you sat and chatted for a while before you decide you’re ready to check. nick grabs the knife from the block, stepping behind you, arms running around your body making you nervous. carefully, he cuts the steak open a little bit.

“how does that look?” he asks in your ear, chin lightly nuzzled in the crook of your neck.

“it looks good, i think it’s finished.” you reply and he turns off the stove. the two of you split the large steak, enjoying each others company on the couch. talking and laughing for hours on end.

-

once the group finally came home after hours of being out, you’d finally asked him to come to your bathroom as you wanted to get ready for bed, not wanting to leave his side. you’d grown so close over the few hours you spent together. he now went from the boy you knew least to the boy you knew most. as well as the boy you were now most fond of.

you turn on spotify on your tv, listening to your daily jams. it was nice to finally hear the music you wanted to listen to versus your roommates getting ready to go out music.

“you got an extra one of those?” he asks pointing to the big bow headband you used to move your hair out of your face.

“i sure do.” you smile, opening your linen closet door and handing him your extra one. he puts it on, adjusting the bow to be in the middle and turns to you.

“how do i look?” he asks.

“gorgeous.” you giggle as the smile on his face grows wider. you pass him your face wash, enjoying the fact that he was wanting to enjoy your nightly routine with you.

“i got water all over my shirt.” he says sitting up, face dripping.

“do you want my to grab you another?”

“nah nah, i’ll just take it off.” he says and immediately does so, having to hold your jaw shut at the looks of his body. once you’ve completed your routine, you take off your headband, asking for his.

“damn i gotta give it back so soon?” he frowns.

“it’ll be yours for your stay alright?” you giggle and he nods in agreement.

he exits your bathroom before you as you finished putting away your products and organizing your closet so it looked a little neater for the boy you now had an even deeper crush on. you couldn’t believe how sweet he was. you always thought boys that looked like him would be shallow and inconsiderate. you walked out of your bathroom to him dancing on his phone. you silently plopped down on your bed giggling at him.

“oh what- sorry.” he blushes stopping quickly.

“no it was cute. i wish i knew how to dance. i’m so bad.” you reply.

“i know a thing or two, do you want me to teach you?” he asks.

“yes.” you reply shyly.

“stand up.” he requests, locking the door so he knew you wouldn’t get interrupted by any drunk dumbasses.

“put your hands on my shoulders,” he says grabbing your wrists, “like this.”

“okay.” you say, adjusting your grip on his shoulders.

“and i’m gonna put mine on your waist.” he says putting them a little high up.

“nick you can go lower, you’re almost touching my ribcage.”

“i didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable.”

“no it’s okay, that’s very sweet of you though.”

“of course, now just sway to the music, i’ll guide you.”

“this feels really easy.”

“well yeah we’re just swaying right now.” he giggles.

“oh, yeah.” you reply.

“sucks that you guys’ air conditioning broke.” you say.

“yeah but i can’t be too mad.”

“why?”

“because if it wasn’t broken i wouldn’t be here right now.”

“i guess you’re right” you giggle. you stood in silence with gaze locked just enchanted by his deep blue eyes.

“now i’m gonna pull you in,” he says pulling you closer.

“now let go and turn sideways.” he says and you step back, keeping one hand in his.

“now spin back in.” he says and you do so. naturally dipping on one leg backwards, his grasp on you very strong and holding you up effortlessly. he helps you up quickly and you smile before he pulls you in again, this time for a sweet kiss. at first you were caught off guard but you quickly melted into the rhythm. his hands finding their way to your cheeks, yours on the back of his biceps, the kiss growing in passion by the second. by the time he pulled away you frowned. you didn’t want him to pull away.

“see not so bad? you’re a natural.” he says grabbing onto your hands, interlocking your fingers with his.

“well i had a good teacher.” you giggle.

“i hope it was okay that i kissed you. it felt like the right moment. i’ve been waiting all night if im honest.”

“it was more than okay, it was perfect. i’ve had googly eyes for you all night.” you giggle.

“good.” he smiles sweetly pulling you in for a hug, his chin resting on top of your head.

“will you sleep in here with me tonight?” you ask hesitantly.

“yeah.” he replies quickly, his embrace growing tighter for a moment before letting go.

“so i guess that headband can be yours for the long term…. maybe.” you say, nervousness lining your tone.

“i’d be so honored.” he giggles, tackling you onto your bed in a hug.

“i’m really happy you’re here nick.” you say as the both of you lay on your stomachs leaned up on your elbows.

“me too y/n.” he says as you lean in to peck his lips once again.

“oh i’m gonna sleep so good tonight.” he says tucking himself under the covers with you.

“oh definitely, especially with working ac.”

“well i was mostly referring to getting to fall asleep knowing im waking up next to you, but that’s nice too.”

“stop.” you smack his arm as you blush intensely.

“no i’m serious y/n. you’re so beautiful.” you replied as you get cozy as well.

“can we cuddle?” you ask in response and he laughs.

“yes we can, come here you gorgeous teddy bear.” he says, pulling you by your waist to his warm bare chest.

“sleep well.” you mumble in his chest, leaving him a sweet kiss on the collar bone.

“goodnight.” he replies, kissing the top of your head.

[fragilefangirl]

I do think that Coryo fell in love with Lucy Gray, but i also fully believe that such love would never have been possible had he not be given the near-total control over her fate in the games, and by extension, her fate in the Capitol.

Listen. Here is a boy who has nothing but his last name, posing around pretending like he owned everything while scrambling for a scrap of something. Here is a boy who had to share everything he had ever owned, who was never fully in control of anything except for his words.  Here is a boy, who, due to the lie he's been controlling, can never let anyone in -- not even his pseudo-older sister and not even his most affectionate classmate -- for it poses the risk of being perceived, and potentially punished for his lack of ownership.

And then suddenly this boy -- who's so desperate to own something -- is granted the ownership of another person  a full-pass to control everything about her; her words, her image, her story. And sure, she wasn't his first pick, but the thought of having something gave him a sense of relief and dignity his lies could never give him, and that dignity, that slight restoration of confidence, gave way for that first crack on his chest after being guarded for so long.

And then the person he "owned" showed up, and she was the most interesting person of the pick. She gave the people a show and she made a song on top of it, turning his confidence to pride. I truly believe that had he been assigned to another person, he would not have showed up to the train station, simply due the fact that they were not interesting enough to warrant his  visit -- or his grandma'am's roses. Him showing up to the train wasn't just done in goodwill; it was also a stake of ownership -- it was him, acknowledging to himself that this was something worth owning, and like other things worth owning, it could be taken away from him if he lets his guard slips.

And that becomes the initial foundation to their interaction; the talking, the bringing up food... sure, Lucy Gray was interesting, but he was detached of her charm in those first meeting, seeing her in the lens of how others might measure her and her worth. his main focus was "taking care of her"; making sure his precious thing survived, making sure his ownership of her -- and thus his pride -- will not dissipate.

And then the tributes started plotting to kill him, only to be stopped by Lucy Gray. Sure, for her, he might seem as if he was doing something a kind -- even if useless -- meeting her in this run-down train station, and that perhaps was part of the reason why she defended him, and part of the reason why she stood by him in that Zoo cage. But for Coryo, his visit was calculated, his rose a chip of bargain, his zoo visit a byproduct of refusing to be caught slipping. For him, Lucy Gray stepping up for him was uncalled for, a surprising kindness.

He tried to rationalize it best as he could, but he was stumped. And I think this was when he started to really listen to Lucy Gray, to stop being detached from her. He was his father's son, and he believed in knowing the things he owned in order to properly maintain it. And it was this desire to know that melted his walls, that made him vulnerable, because to understand her fully he opened himself up to be understood, which had never happened before.

I think Coryo did love Lucy Gray, however tainted and terrible that love was. I think it was the first time of him making the effort to perceive someone and be reciprocated back -- fully, thoroughly, and wholeheartedly. It helped (or didn't help?) That Lucy Gray was a poet, that she fed him with pretty words; the only things that -- up until she showed up -- he'd ever truly owned for himself. For him, that connection -- added over the fact that he had "owned her", as everyone else kept saying -- must have felt like a drug. It must have felt intoxicating, to own something so lovely, something that adored him. It must have been a new, exhilarating feeling for Coryo, who never owned anything but worthless scraps and his pretty, pretty words. And yes, that was such a terrible way to put it, but love is many things; it can be terrible too.

I think Coryo loved Lucy Gray, and had they stayed in Capitol, he would have been able to continue to "love her". Billy Taupe was just some name, the Covey some story. What for Lucy Gray was history, was only pretty words for him. For all he chose to believe in, they could be the same pretty words he said; mostly lie, some exaggeration. In the Capitol, she is his, fully. And Coryo can love only what he owns.

But they didn't stay at Capitol, they moved to twelve. Suddenly, all her pretty words were honest and real, something he couldn't ignore, much less control. Suddenly, there was the Covey, and Billy Taupe, and Mayor Lipp, and even if her eyes were for him only he still had to share the rest of her -- her voice, her charm, her poise -- with other people. Twelve highlighted that he'd never truly owned her, we all know that. But here's another thing that twelve highlighted; it was him who chose to be the soldier in a rundown district, him who chose to follow her. If there was any ownership to be had here, it was her that owned him.

And Coryo? He doesn't share, yes, but worse than anything, he despises being owned.

This is where TBOSAS shone its brilliance; president Snow is the way he was not because he is an unfeeling sadist the was Volumnia Gaul is. He was the way he was because of love. Because of the vulnerability that comes with that love, and the refusal to surrender to it. President Snow would not be as ruthless and despicable had he been desensitized, and it was his feelings, his capability to love, that led him to employ some of the most gruesome tactics to win the games.

Here's the heartbreaking thing; once upon a time, Coryo loves Lucy Gray, and that love was true. Here's another heartbreaking thing; that love was built on poison, and its toxic vines ruined him so completely, decimated him so thoroughly, he was reborn anew evil; president Snow would not have happened without Lucy Gray, without Coryo's time in Twelve.

President Snow said, "it's the thing we love most that destroys us," and he said this as a warning to Katniss, yes, but he also said it to Coryo's shadow, standing behind her, who was looking at the back of the Girl on Fire, thinking the wavy black hair and the whispered songs were that of someone else's.

[isaacswhy]

dating isaac & yumi hc's? 👀🙏

dating isaac & yumi hcs

chill chaos. like they go from chilling in your room one minute to yelling because something got them in a mood to debate

these two are genuinely really smart but when you put them together they are. so fucking stupid

you try to keep them on task if they need to do smth but it always ends in you guys doing literally nothing productive

the two tall boys of tgc. isaac and blake are both over six foot so there's probably a height difference going on here

cuddles. blake is less cuddly but loves it anyways. he won't usually go out of his way to cuddle but he's so down if you initiate it

isaac on the other hand BEGS to cuddle. comes in your room like "baby can we lay in bed and watch tiktoks :("

sometimes blake walks in on a cuddle sesh and just casually joins without saying a word

other times it starts as them both cuddling you and then somehow they're cuddling each other? neither of them say a word abt it

literally they both eat so much. you wonder how their combined doordash spending hasn't put them in debt (they are both dashpass members)

sitting in one of their rooms and they just go 'oh hey i ordered us food' like ??? okay sure

when it's the three of you the feasts are legendary. literally nothing goes to waste because they have an innate ability to smash food like it's nobody's business

so they both like quality time and physical affection but their TRUE love language as a poly couple is gift giving but it's just food giving

the munchies are insane

if it's your thing, the three of you get high together quite frequently. it's nothing too much but you just have some edibles that either isaac or blake bought and chill

although none of you are really vloggers there's constant content on your ig stories of each other doing random shit

every few months you and isaac fill some random part of blake's room with plastic balls. it's tradition

if you choose to be in your gym arc you have a bf for it. if you choose to be in your lazy arc you have a bf for it. perfect halves

dinner dates are most common but also they do like a good clothes shopping trip. it's mostly isaac but

blake likes to take you (and isaac) to obscure places he finds in town. abandoned malls, petting zoos, cat cafes, you name it

they are also both amazon impulse buyers. both blake and isaac will randomly come to your room with a giant box and it's some random shit like a barbie dreamhouse

both of them like when you play with their hair. you sometimes nag isaac about getting his hair cut but it's fun when it's long

you tell blake not to cut his hair and when he inevitably does you and isaac both clown on him for looking like an idiot

the group chat of you three consists of some strange memes and tiktoks. there's not really an explanation to them they just send em

you have seen them actively get into an argument about who wants to go out and get your morning coffee shop order more. like it's a competition or smth

both like to surprise you with things but are terrible at hiding it

blake streams on twitch and you and isaac just chill in the call with him while he games and yells at shit

you both fuel chat and get him upset because you run channel point predictions as to whether he dies or not

they're great bfs.

I LOVED THIS like they're my second favorite i think for poly ships. i hope you like it :D

[wordsbyrian]

Bad Days and Zoo Trips - HarderssonKid!R x Niamh and Jessie

Summary: sometimes all it takes to make a bad day a little bit better is going to see your favorite animals at the zoo. (the request was more hardersson x kid!r)

A/N: who wants to guess how many different ideas this started as before it landed on this?

You are having a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

It all started this morning when Morsa told you that you had to go to nursery because your babysitter got sick and they couldn’t take you to practice because they had grown up things to do afterwards. Then when you were getting dressed Momma wouldn’t let you wear your Barcelona jersey with Moster Frido’s name on the back (because it's dirty) so you have to settle for wearing one of Tante Simone’s Hammarby shirt’s.

The terrible horrible no goodness continues at breakfast when you have to eat pancakes instead of waffles because there are none. And Morsa doesn’t even put any fruit in it like normally does when you have waffles.

You cry the whole way to nursery, where things do not get any better.

When you get there, a little boy that you don’t recognize is sitting in your normal spot on the rug and Miss makes you sit somewhere else when you ask him to move.

That little boy, Zac, continues to make your day worse at every possible turn.

After the rug incident, he takes the last seat at the lego table even though your friend Jamie had been saving it for you. When your class goes outside, he refuses to let you play football and then when the teachers make him, he keeps shoving you over. But, of course, Miss only notices when you shove him back and so you get put in timeout.

When you get back inside, after naptime, Miss tells the class a story about Vikings from Sweden, and the day improves for all of about 2 minutes when she lets you tell everyone about the Viking museum you went to the last time you visited Stockholm. But it goes sour again when Zac keeps cutting you off and even says that girls weren’t allowed to be vikings, which is just completely untrue.

That unfortunately, is your breaking point and before you even realize it, you’re across the room shoving the boy over. And just as quickly, Miss has grabbed you around the waist and is hauling you over to the timeout stool.

After 5 minutes, she comes back and brings you over to say sorry to Zac, except you don’t. Instead you start a rant in Swedish about Vikings, and well both your refusal to apologize and the Swedish (something you’ve been warned about in the past) land you back in the timeout where you stay for the rest of the day.

You’re not sure how long it really is but it feels like forever before the sound of two familiar voices have you turning around to face the rest of the classroom.

You only need to catch a glimpse of them before you're off the stool and barrelling towards them at fool speed barely dodging the other kids who are still waiting to get picked up.

“Jessie, Niamh,” you all but shout, slamming directly into the Englishwoman's legs, “Why are you here? Where’s my Momma and Morsa?”

Before either of the athletes have a chance to answer, Miss speaks instead.

“Y/N, I know you’re very excited to see your friends but that’s no excuse for running or shouting indoors.”

“Sorry, Miss.” Even to your own ears you don’t sound very sorry. “I’m going to get my things.”

You dart back off across the classroom, only slowing down slightly when Miss calls out after you.

It takes you less than a minute to grab your things and come back, immediately shoving your jumper and backpack into Niamh’s hands.

“No way, kid, we’re under strict instructions to make sure that you wear this,” the defender says.

“No thank you, bye Miss,” you say, taking Jessie’s hand and leading her out of the classroom and the building.

You can hear Niamh laughing as she follows behind, still holding your jumper, and complaining about it, until Jessie eventually stops you halfway down the block.

“Y/N/N, I know you don’t want to but you really need to wear your sweater,” the Canadian says.

“No thank you.”

That earns you a hard stare from the older girl, “I wasn’t really asking you.”

“No.”

“Yes, Y/N.”

With the two of you locked in a very intense stare down, Niamh takes the opportunity to take you by surprise, forcing the jumper over your head. She manages to get it down past your shoulders, making it so you can do nothing but whine as you struggle to get your arms free and through the appropriate holes.

“Not fair,” you say with a stomp of your foot and the slightest pout, once you manage to free yourself.

“Isn’t it crazy how life is rarely fair,” Niamh asks sarcastically. “But since it isn’t fair, I guess that means that you don’t want to come to the zoo with Jessie and I?”

Wide-eyed you look over at the Canadian, who just nods at you very seriously before speaking, “Niamh and I would just have to go by ourselves and it won’t be as much fun without our favorite little girl there to tell us about all the reptiles and amphibians.”

You pretend to take a moment to think about it but anyone watching from the outside, specifically Jessie and Niamh, can see the way you’re practically shaking with excitement.

“Well, I suppose that we can still go,” you say as calmly as a kid your age can, “the two of you need someone to help you see the differences in all the salamanders and newts.”

The two footballers exchange a knowing smirk over the top of your head as you allow Niamh to take you by the hand.

The trip to the zoo takes too long in your humble opinion but you do your best to not bounce up and down in your seat. Once you reach the zoo, all sense of pretense is lost and you just barely agree to see some of the other animals before you attach your face to the glass in the reptile exhibit.

You allow yourself to be dragged to the different primates (where you do your best not to make faces back at them), then to the big cats (where you happily explain that lions aren’t kings of the jungle because they live in the savannah) and finally to the giraffes (where you crack jokes about them being even taller than Millie).

Eventually though, you do make it to the reptile exhibit just in time to see one of the handlers taking a baby alligator out of its habitat.

Immediately, you rush forward with the other kids, getting as close as possible to the zookeeper.

“Hello, I’m zookeeper Jack and this here is my friend Billy, he’s visiting us from America.”

From the second the zookeeper starts talking, you’re hooked, staring in silent wonder as the animal is held on display. The only movement you make is to raise your hand in an attempt to answer almost every question.

Near the end, Jack asks if anyone would like to hold Billy and your hand is the only one that goes up.

“We’ve got a brave one. What’s your name,” he asks, while showing you where to put your hands.

“Y/N.”

“And who brought you to the zoo today?”

“Niamh and Jessie,” you say, slowly point Billy’s head towards them. “They promised to let me show them the newts and salamanders.”

“Niamh and Jessie are your sisters?”

“Yea.”

You’ve completely returned your attention to Billy the gator, so you’re not even aware of the shock that your words have given the two athletes.

“One more question for you, Y/N, and then we’ll let you and your sisters take a photo with our friends here,” Jack says. “What do you want to be when you grow up?”

“A herpetologist,” you say. Then after a moment, “Or maybe a viking, I haven’t decided yet.”

“Well, if you’re as gentle with all animals as you were with Billy, I think you have a pretty good chance at it,” he says, choosing to ignore the bit about becoming a viking, not wanting to break your little kid heart.

Jack the zookeeper then quickly ushers both of the footballers to the front to take a photo. He tries to make them stand next to you only for both of them to stand behind you and as far away from Billy’s teeth as they could.

When he takes the alligator back, you thank him before dragging Niamh and Jessie over to one of the vivariums you noticed on your way in. The large glass habitat is set up to resemble the ecosystem of the rivers and creeks in the pacific northwest and there, peeking out from underneath a rock, is the very animal you’ve been wanting to show them, the rough skin newt.

“Look,” you say, pointing the black and orange creature out, “That little guy is one of the most toxic animals in all of America. Just one of them contains enough toxin to kill 12 adults.”

“That’s scary, why do you know that,” Niamh asks.

“It’s not scary, it's cute,” you tell her. “And cool! There’s only one animal that can safely eat them and most of the time that snake decides it isn’t worth the hassle.”

The smile on your face only grows as you continue to gush about the tiny amphibians and its cousins. It doesn’t go away until well after you return home.

When you do get back home, now armed with a stuffed Smooth Newt and your face still sticky with the ice cream you had leaving the zoo, you excitedly tell your mothers about Billy, completely missing the look Momma sends the two younger players.

What you don’t miss is the way Morsa quickly ushers you out of the room under the guise of helping you find a spot for your new friend, affectionately dubbed Bäcken (She goes right next to Älg in your bed obviously.) And you definitely don’t miss the way Niamh tries to hide behind Jessie to avoid Momma’s wrath as you walk away.

But in the end, you decide not to pay it too much attention because you’re far too busy telling your Morsa the names of all the different reptiles and amphibians you saw at the zoo as she helps you get cleaned up before dinner.

She's not very impressed with the amount of dirt you're covered in, so she makes you change while asking you about it. And she's even less impressed when you tell her about your day at nursery but you immediately change the subject back to the zoo, so she let's it go.

When your clothes are changed and the dirt and ice cream are wiped from your skin, the two of you head out to the dining room joining the others.

Where you realize that you have to start your story telling all over again because Momma didn't hear the part about the snakes and everyone else realizes that this is all you'll be talking about for weeks.

[seat-safety-switch]

When I was a kid, going to the zoo was a joyous occasion. You'd get to see a giraffe, maybe your dad would stay home from work, and at the end there'd be a root-beer-flavoured candy stick from the gift shop. Nowadays, I'm an adult, and adults most definitely do not go to the zoo on their own. So I did.

As soon as I arrived, and paid the eyewatering sum required for the parking and admission, I immediately had a rush of childhood euphoria upon seeing my favourite animal again. That animal is a John Deere Gator 6x6 all-terrain-vehicle and utility tractor. The groundskeepers were still using this reliable workhorse, and, thinking they were dealing with nothing more than rebellious toddlers, had left it parked in front of the penguin exhibit with a length of chain link fencing and copper wiring in the back.

Oh yes, copper wiring. They should be more careful about that. A real creepazoid thief would steal that stuff, get a couple bucks. I, however, pride myself on respecting the private property of others a little bit more than that. As I plunked the Gator into low range and began climbing the stairs to the wildebeest area, I gave myself a pat on the back for being such a good citizen and having so much restraint and impulse control.

I'd like to say that the resulting chase through the facility involved a bunch of daring high-speed turns, but the scrub radius on one of these six-wheel-drive abominations is just terrible. Every time I even went near the steering wheel, I was rewarded with copious understeer. Despite what the evening news says, it is to my credit as a race driver that I managed to only gently skim the butterfly exhibit, rather than crash through it. Security did catch up to me when I stopped to get a corn dog, but that's only because the lines were so long.

As I lay there on the ground, my arms handcuffed behind me, the cop's knee in my back, I had no regrets. Well, maybe one. You see, I had picked the wrong snack counter, not realizing just how far a giraffe's neck could bend. Being forced to watch that long-necked asshole swallow my corn dog – which I paid for – whole is the real injustice here.

[try-set-me-on-fire]

Tagged by @doeeyeseddie and @eddiebabygirldiaz for seven sentence Sunday! Since I haven’t been posting much for tag games lately, here’s significantly more sentences than that from bucktommy acquire a child au. Warning for mentions of past child abuse in Tommy’s family.

Tommy stares down at the dotted line, pen hovering, running the name through his head over and over again and feeling kind of stupid for it. There’s no meaningful difference, at this point, between this last signature and any other of the seemingly dozens of pieces of paper they’ve signed tonight. Nothing really counts until Buck hands it over to the lawyer on his way to work tomorrow. He could sign and then tear the thing up, toss it in the trash. Find someone better to take this on. Take his name out of it, at the very least, hand the kid over to Evan entirely.

Evan, sitting next to him close enough that their knees are pressed tougher, bony, under the table. “What are you thinking?”

Tommy sighs and sets the pen down, tilting his head back to look up at the ceiling. “Can’t we just use… I don’t know, Diaz? I don’t want to give the poor kid my name.”

Buck laughs, just a little, still mostly serious. “I mean, I’m sure Eddie’d say yes if we asked, but- You gave me your name, why’s it a problem now?”

Tommy slides his fingers between Buck’s, surprised as he always is at how well they fit together. “You’re an adult, you can- handle it, carry it. Kinard children have historically been miserable things.”

Evan tilts his head, probably thinking about what Tommy is thinking about: Tommy, beat by his dad who was beat by his dad who was beat by- etc, etc, going back the entire horrible line of them. He’s imagined it before, some medieval peasant kid somewhere, crying into a hay bale or whatever the fuck it is poor folk slept on back then. Evan’d probably know. Maybe farther back than that. A caveman all the other cavemen side-eyed ‘cause he threw his kid in the path of a sabertooth or something.

“Okay,” is what Evan says. “I could get all pop psychology about, like, breaking cycles or whatever, but actually-” he points down the hall. “When I put him to bed tonight he talked literally right up until he was unconscious about all the stuff we saw at the zoo today, that I was in fact there for. Passed out mid word about how we got ice cream and saw a bird. Just a regular bird, that pigeon that landed on the table next to us. I think he was as excited about that as he was about, like, actual lions.”

Tommy laughs, despite his mood. “He was excited about the pigeon.” Milo had been so fascinated by it his ice cream had mostly melted by the time they could successfully prompt him to eat it.

Buck grins. “That kid- our kid- is happy, Tommy. Another talking point? How you carried him everywhere. He got to be so tall, he said you showed him everything.”

“I always hated being too short to see past crowds of people,” Tommy says quietly. “All those legs, everybody strangers.”

“I think most kids hate that,” Buck nods. He leans in to kiss Tommy’s cheek. “You’re not having second thoughts about this?”

“No,” Tommy says, immediate, breathy like it got punched out of him. “No. More than sure.”

Evan nods again. “He’s happy, and safe, and loved because of you. Sign the paper. It’s just a name, and one that I like very much actually.”

“Just a name,” Tommy raises an eyebrow. “So you would’ve been fine with him becoming a Buckley if we had done this the other way?”

“Oh, fuck no,” Buck says, face twisting up lemon-sour as Tommy laughs.

“You hypocrite.”

“Hey, you should have come up with a new name when you married me,” Buck sticks his tongue out, leaning back in his chair like a pleased cat. “Combined them maybe? We could have been… the Binards?”

Tommy squints at him. “No.”

“The Kuckleys?”

“Evan,” Tommy snorts. “No- that’s terrible.”

Buck grins. “Yeah. We really should have just asked Eddie. All be Diazes, it’d fix everything.”

“Imagine the kid’s family tree project at school,” Tommy says, picking up the pen, signing his name as fast as he can before doubt creeps back in. “We’re gonna have to teach him the words ‘non-conventional family structure’.”

Buck laughs and laughs, leaning into Tommy’s side until he kisses up the sound.

Tagging @shitouttabuck @bigfootsmom @iinryer @chronicowboy @butchdiaz @homerforsure if ya got anything to share!