#it's still a skill I'm working on to reach out instead of pulling away and to reach out in a way that is healthy but goddamn

[organized-chaotic-disaster]

(Obviously we all need to take responsibility for our actions but also sometimes you're literally a kid who doesn't understand how to handle such big and heavy topics and feelings, especially if you're raised in an environment that doesn't encourage healthy coping skills and communication)

[snippychicke]

Poppy Seeds -- Part One

As you may have guessed, I fell into a new hyper fixation. Poppy's Playtime of all things. >.<

Inspired by TooManyPsuedonyms work, which in turn was inspired by @semisolidmind fanart/cabin!Au for Playtime Poppy.

I know right now we have no idea who or what Ollie is, but I decided to go with the assumption he is just a kid and not the Prototype as some theorists are assuming. This will likely be debunked in chapter four, but I'm running with it until then.

Dogday/Player!reader (attempting keeping it gender neutral)

Warnings: will touch on the after effects of trauma, but nothing is super explicit. Maybe some unhealthy coping skills (Dogday holding Reader on a pedestal) But otherwise we're giving everyone a happy ending. (Everything is wonderful and nothing hurts)

One: Home

Your hands gripped the steering wheel tight as your old truck climbed up the steep incline. It hadn't liked the rough road on a good day, let alone with Kissy and Dogday in the back trying to drag it down. Now it whined and complained, the wheels occasionally skidding on the gravel. Ollie clutched to Poppy tightly next to you, his sunken eyes wide with fear. Poppy, to her credit, looked confident that everything would be okay.

By the time you reached the cabin nestled high above the valley, it was close to midnight. It was a sizable two story home, complete with a barn, garage, and even a chicken coop. Thick forest surrounded the homestead, assuring complete privacy. A year ago your grandparents had moved into an assisted living community in town, leaving the whole place to you. The rest of the family had not been happy but in your defense you would come out every school break growing up to help them out.

And then, after you left Playtime Co, you had moved in under the guise of getting your life sorted out. Your grandparents never asked why it was taking you a decade to figure it out. Which you were glad, because you didn't know how you would have answered them.

Ollie’s fear eased into wonder as he looked at the flock of sheep you had in the pens up front. You were just thankful they were still there, looking rather healthy despite the fact you had been unexpectedly gone for a week or so.

When you had received the letter and VHS about the old Playtime Co you had interned 10 years ago while in college, you thought you would be gone for a few days at most considering it was a few hours away. You prepped your home as best as you could for being gone that long-- giving extra water and feed to the animals, setting the sprinklers for your garden on a timer-- but had little hopes of your own survival let alone that of your animals after being dragged deep into hell.

You didn’t bother with the detached garage, but pulled up right next to the porch. You were exhausted, and you could only imagine everyone else was as well. The truck seemed all too happy to shut off with a rough sound. You looked over at Ollie, who was still looking at everything in wonder, though Poppy was carefully extracting herself from his grip. “You okay there kiddo?”

He looked back at you, “This is where you live?” he asked instead, voice full of awe. “It looks like it's from a fairytale book!”

It really wasn't, it's a typical farm for this part of the country. Hardly one of the fanciest or beautiful, just simple and sturdy.

“Let's get inside and get settled for the night,” you offer instead of remarking. “I should have the stuff for some sandwiches at least.”

“Sand…witches?” Ollie repeated, sounding confused.

“Meat and bread,” Poppy answered, unbuckling the boy. “Sometimes with ketchup, mustard, mayo, cheese.”

“So, food? I like food!”

Your heart ached. You knew the boy had been raised in the factory, hidden away and protected from the Prototype or hungry ‘toys’. The fact he had was a miracle enough--especially considering how small and thin he was. He had to be ten at the youngest, but barely looked as if he was half that age.

The passenger door opened, which considering how much trouble Kissy had with her hands, was surprising. Yet the pink creature reached in and pulled both Ollie and Poppy out of the truck.

Dogday waited for you as you exited the truck, your legs shaky from the long ride. However, his attention wasn't on you but the dark sky above. It was a new moon, meaning the Milky Way arched overhead with dozens of stars. A glance over to Kissy and the others showed they too were amazed by the stars--you could hear Poppy trying to explain all of it to Ollie quietly.

“It's beautiful, isn't it?” You said as you stepped closer to Dogday.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “I-I’ve never seen the night sky like this.”

“Well, now you can see it every night,” you said, shouldering his arm lightly. “Best place for meteor showers too.”

Dogday tore his gaze away and looked down at you. “Are you sure we can stay here, angel?”

“Of course. As long as you want, even if it's forever.” Granted, you didn't know where else they would go, especially Dogday and Kissy. But you didn't want to assume anything either, or make them feel trapped.

His hand found yours, so giant compared to yours but soft and warm. “Forever it is then.”

You felt your cheeks warm against the chilly night air as you laughed self-consciously. “Right, you might wanna sleep on that kind of decision, ‘Day.”

Two: Sleep

You woke slowly, feeling warm and cozy. Something soft was surrounding you, with the faintest hint of vanilla. At first you thought maybe you were wrapped up in a thick blanket, but when you opened your eyes to matted brown fur you realized it was Dogday instead, his arms wrapped around you and holding you close as if you were the toy. You could feel him breathe softly, each inhale and exhale caressing your skin softly.

(You didn't want to think about the amalgamation of organic and inorganic parts inside of him. You saw enough when you helped attach his legs to leave you with nightmares.)

For once, Dogday looked relaxed. Dark eyes closed and his smile softened. You couldn’t resist running your fingers along his face. He had been one of the few you had instantly trusted in that hell. One of the few that never even seemed to think about harming you.

Poppy had used you for her own means, not giving you a real choice ever since you released her. Kissy Missy had always been kind but you had soon realized that her partnership with Poppy may have played a part in it. And of course there was Ollie, though it took a while for you to trust the faceless voice on the phone, especially after you learned that the Prototype could mimic voices and Ollie had a very… peculiar way of phrasing things.

Yet Dogday… he had raised his head, and saw you as someone special as soon as his gaze met yours. Begged you to leave him behind and to run when the miniature Critters started to swarm. Actively fought to defend and protect you despite missing the lower half of his body at first.

And ever since, had refused to leave your side. While everyone else did their part, he determinedly stuck with you. Even last night after everyone finished eating and all anyone could think about was sleep. Kissy happily cuddled Poppy and Ollie in her arms as she climbed up the stairs to claim a bedroom. You expected Dogday to follow suit…

“Hey, uh, angel?” Dogday said softly, sounding rather shy. He had stuck around to help you clean up, though all that consisted of was a few plates, cups, and butter knives. Though the number of sandwiches consumed had emptied out all the bread, lunchmeat, cheese, as well as peanut butter and jelly in your pantry.

“Yeah?” You were getting used to the nickname, though you still felt as if it was undeserved the way he said it. As if you truly were an angel from heaven, sent to save.

“... Could I sleep with you?”

His question surprised you, and you almost dropped the cup you had been washing. Thankfully he quickly grabbed it before it could fall very far. “Sleep…with me?”

Granted those last two… days? You weren't sure, but you and him had found safe spots to watch out for each other while the other slept. It was the only time during the whole ‘adventure’ you managed to sleep. Wrapped up in his arms, feeling him breathe, listening to his heartbeat. It reminded you weren't alone anymore.

“I… don't want to be alone,” he continued, drying off the cup and placing it on the shelf. “Even if I know you and the others are nearby, I…”

Your surprise shifted into sympathy and understanding. Kissy, Poppy, and Ollie were together… and now that you thought about it, being alone right now did not fill you with any sort of ease.

“Yeah. I mean, if you don't mind cuddling close. My bed is barely big enough for two normal-sized people, let alone one me and one… well, Dogday.”

His smile widened. “With you? Never.”

Dogday shifted in his sleep, turning his head to nuzzle into your hand before his eyes slowly opened. His smile widened slightly, and you heard more than saw his tail thump against the bed which in turn made you smile wider as well. “Morning,” you greeted softly.

“Good morning, angel,” he said just as softly. “Did you sleep well?”

“Best sleep in a long time,” you admitted with a slight laugh. Trying to sleep in the factory had been a scary experience. Finding small places to hide long enough to close your eyes. Waking and jumping at every little sound. Plagued by endless nightmares.

And you had been there for just a few days, a week at most.

“What about you?” you asked. Him and the others had lived in that hell for a decade. You didn't startle awake from him lashing out at nightmares. Which you had seen him do a few times before at the factory. You had held him in your laps as best you could, reassuring him he was okay as he broke down.

He leaned closer, nuzzling your cheek slightly. “Next to you, how could I not?”

You laughed between his flirty words and his fur tickling your skin. “You're such a flirt!”

Three: Morning After

“It's so bright outside!” Ollie gasped as he looked out the window while you worked on breakfast. Thankfully none of the eggs had spoiled, nor had any milk, meaning you were whipping up a full course of scrambled eggs and pancakes-- as well as cooking the few boxes of frozen sausages you had found in the freezer.

Dogday was currently watching them like a hawk, occasionally licking his lips as he moved them around in the skillet.

“Actually. That's cloudy. See how the sky is gray. Not blue?” Poppy pointed out, also gazing out the window. “On sunny days, it's a bright vibrant blue, and even brighter.”

“Really?” The boy looked up to you to confirm the doll's words, and you nodded your head. To think he had never seen the sky before. To be unable to tell a sunny day from a cloudy one.

“It actually looks like it could rain,” you pointed out. “Maybe we should hold off on a bath until after you have fun in the mud.”

His brow furrowed in confusion. “I thought if you get caught in the rain, you'll get sick?”

“Psh, no. At least, not as long as you can dry off and warm up afterwards. It'll also give me time to look through stuff down in the basement. I think there should be some old hand me downs that should fit you.”

“A good bath can do wonders.” Poppy hopped down from the windowsill and into Kissy's hand before the giant monster also gently corralled Ollie to the table where the food was waiting. “It's been such a long time.”

“Er, excuse me for being intrusive…” you set down a towering plate of pancakes before sitting yourself. “But can you guys get wet?”

“We may not be flesh and bone anymore, but we can still enjoy a good shower,” Dogday answered as he set the plate of sausage links in front of you. “Or even a swim.”

“Why is the water white?” Ollie interrupted, looking oddly at the glass of milk Kissy poured in front of him. “I've never seen it that color before.”

“It’s milk,” Poppy answered. “You used to love it when you were a baby and we had access to some.”

Ollie sniffed suspiciously before taking a drink… and then nearly gulping the entire glass in one go. You took the opportunity of everyone chuckling at the boy to split the sausage between the others. Kissy noticed first and clapped excitedly, her mit-like hands muffling the sound.

“Angel,” Dogday sighed, though you weren't sure he was touched or exasperated. Or maybe both.

“Shh, I saw the way you were eyeing them. I can always buy more when I go to town.”

He was silent for a while before taking a bite of the sausage, savoring it unlike Kissy who had all but inhaled hers. Ollie was following Kissy’s example with the banquet of food, while Poppy was benign as dainty as could be, cutting everything into tiny bites, even for her smaller size.

You couldn’t help but savor your own food, feeling rather happy and optimistic about the future.

[spideyhexx]

i NEED more sejanus teaching coryo how to pleasure reader!! 😭😭

don't we all! This is more just experimenting? Idk we'll see, it's still something!

mdni

am having this thought about being at the library at the academy and you're studying alone, waiting for Sej and Coryo to join you.

They're not far from you. They're almost lurking near some bookshelves, talking about whatever class and whatever final they need to work on while Sej is looking for some book.

Coryo is very focused on you though. His gaze keeps slipping from Sej to you, a determined look on your face and a small crease in your brow as you go back and forth between reading and writing.

Sejanus notices and bumps his shoulder into the taller man's. "I bet you can't get her on her knees under the table."

Coryo doesn't expect something dirty to have come out of Sej's mouth and he looks at him, his eyes wide. "I can do that."

Sej gives him a little smirk. "Good luck." And then he's shoving Coryo forward towards you.

And poor Coryo, he really does try! He sits next to you and feigns interest in what you're doing, but you know this! His hand on your thigh is a dead giveaway, but you entertain it, wanting to see what he does.

Coryo would help you, recite stuff from the book you have open so you can jot it down in your study notes, his hand still on your thigh and rubbing it gently. He'd even try to mimic the curling of his fingers.

"You want something, Coryo?" You ask him finally and he swallows. He hates losing and now that the idea of you under the table with his cock down your throat is caressing his mind, he needs to make sure he wins the little bet Sej offered.

He takes your hand that isn't holding a pencil and puts it over his bulge, his eyes never leaving yours. The gesture is bold for him. You squeeze him through his pants and he bites on his tongue.

"I have work to do, sorry Snow." And then you're letting go of him and turning back to the papers and books in front of you.

Coryo leans in closer, his hand rubbing higher up your thigh. "I know, but maybe you need a little break? Refresh your mind?"

You chuckle at that and shake your head, "I'm good, Coryo." He's just about to beg you instead, but he doesn't let himself. He wants you to be the one begging to take his cock right here in the library, but he lacks the right skill to convince you it seems.

"I'll be right back," he mutters and stands up, walking away and disappearing in the bookshelves to find Sej laughing to himself.

"Very funny, thank you," he snarks at Sej. "Why don't you go try?"

Sej points to himself with a humorous smile on his face and pats Coryo's shoulder. "As you wish." Coryo watches from afar as Sej sits opposite you with the book he picked out.

For a good five minutes, the both of you sitting in silence. Then he sees Sej's head turn up and he seems to ask you something but Coryo can't hear. Once you respond, Sej is moving to sit next to you and Coryo finds a closer place he can eavesdrop.

You let go of your pencil and shake your hand out. "Oh, baby, you've been writing too much, here," Sej coos at you and reaches for your hand, massaging it in his own, effectively making you move closer to him.

Coryo rolls his eyes at it.

You lean your head down against Sej's shoulder as he massages your hand and Sej kisses your head. "You've been working so hard."

"I know, it's finals kicking my ass." Sej chuckles and pulls your hand to his lips, kissing each knuckle.

"You'll be okay, baby, you're so smart and pretty." You laugh, holding onto his hand and kissing his knuckles just like he did yours.

"Being pretty has nothing to do with passing my finals."

Coryo seethes from his spot and he feels like he genuinely wants to punch Sejanus.

"Perhaps, but you're still my pretty girl, hm?" You nod and look up at the boy and his big brown eyes. Sej cups the side of your face with one of his hands, his thumb tracing underneath your bottle lip.

"You want to take a little break?" All you can do it nod and he kisses your forehead. "Good girl, you deserve it." Another kiss to your forehead, followed by a trail of them down your nose until his lips are lingering right over yours.

"You want me in your mouth, pretty girl? Can suck on me nice and slow, just relax?"

No words escape your lips, your body only knowing how to nod at this point and Sej takes a quick look around the library before helping you onto your knees between his legs.

You'd lock eyes with Coryo while your mouth is stuffed with Sej. Coryo hates that he loves it. Loves watching you do something so dirty despite the fact he lost the bet. That regardless if he's fooling around with you two, he's basically spying right now.

Sej's fingers dip under your chin and your gaze diverts back to the man above you.

"Only look at me right now, baby, okay?"

let's chat about sejanus, coryo, or both, here :)

[melodic-haze]

I just want to bend Navia over and fuck her with my strap ^_^ her thighs are so tempting I can’t do this I need this woman right now

(also, can I be 🐿️ anon?)

☆ — DEMO TRACK: sub!Navia x dom!fem!Reader

☆ — TYPE: NSFW

☆ — CONTENT WARNINGS: Strap-on use

☆ — NOTES: I shit you not I remember only logging in to get Navia and then stopped playing again when I got her. ALSO YES YOU CAN BE 🐿 ANON MY FIRST ONE HIIIII 🥰🥰🥰🥰 SORRY I'M GOING FOR SHORTER SHIT RN 😭😭😭😭😭😭

I NEED HER RIGHT THIS SECOND TOO OUGHHH I'm gonna indulge with you anon good god

The. The gap where. Her thighs are visible ughghhghg save me SAVE MEEEEE

You sit down together and you squeeze that part of Navia's thighs and she sits up in alert brfore fully debating on whether to keepy your hand there or to swat it away. It usually stays though 🤷‍♀️

Using her like some kinda fleshlight would be so fun lol

Bend her over and fuck her reaaaaally nice and hard 🫶🫶 have her absolutely SOBBING telling you to slow down but you don't bc really lol why would you??? Especially not when she grinds herself on your strap whenever you stop

DUDE fold her in half so that she can't move, or like hold her thighs down as you absolutely RAIL her to oblivion oh my god

Can I just say the ripple effect would go crazy though. LOL yes ugghhgh watch her thighs and her ass move and jiggle every time you bottom out inside of her

You felt her quaking from underneath you as Navia came for.. maybe the third or the fourth time so far. Her loud moans echoed through the room like a pleasant chime as your hips moved to carry her through her high, your eyes still utterly transfixed at the way her thighs ripple whenever your hips slam into yours.

When you think your lover's orgasm had mostly receded, you give her thigh a soft smack before squeezing it, the former action earning what sounded to be a cross between a yelp and another moan from her. She doesn't seem mad at the sudden impact though—in fact, she seems delighted in the way that she gives you a tired grin as she combs her blonde hair out of the way of her sapphire blue eyes.

Instead of continuing again, you decided to take a little break for a short while, though you don't really make the move to pull out. Instead, you keep the strap inside of her as you reach for the cup of water prepared on the nightstand with your other hand.

You lightly tapped your lover's beautiful thighs to gain her attention, "Can you drink on your own or do you want me to pass it to you?"

"Mmm... Think I can drink it on my own for now, thank you." She slowly sat up and took the glass, carefully making sure that you don't slip out from the movement, "I don't know how stable my motor skills will be when you continue with doing that, though."

"Oh? Not if, when?" You raised an eyebrow jokingly as she basically gulped down her drink, "You expected more from me? What if I wanted to stop here?"

She puts the glass back down once she's finished before leaning on her palms behind her, "Then we'll stop. But I really doubt you want to, considering this--" she nods her head down at the toy, "--is still inside of me."

"That your detective skills at work right now?"

"No, just that I know you intimately enough to know you haven't had enough of me."

"I mean, you're right." You buck your hips to make a point and she lets out a gasp, biting her lip as she drops to lean on her elbows instead, "I definitely could never have enough of you."

She gives you an impish smirk, "Then take all of me, ma douce."

Really, the most polite answer would be to do so.

I reckon she's a chronic biter yk. Like hold her close to you as you piston her and she'll bite whatever part of you she can

Don't just bend her over too guys make her ride you 🫶🫶🫶☺️☺️ she happily will!!!! Wielding a huge axe like that has GOT to do shit for your legs too not just your arms so she has the STAMINA go bounce on your cock like her life depends on it, giving you the fill view of you cunt practically consuming you whole like a woman starved. Oh my god I'm having such a fixation with them now that you've said it sorry LOL UM anyway yeah grab onto her thighs, dictate her pace or else she'll do what she wants and chase her release before you actually want her to :((((

Bonus points I think she'd be a size queen too :3 the bigger the better❗️❗️❗️ She swears she can handle it when she first asks you to use one that's Big but then you're in bed with her rn and she sobs out like "it's too much" or "I feel so full" but like just tell her to take it cuz realistically she put this on herself 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

When you're all done, have her clean you off ☺️☺️☺️☺️ she'll take it aaaaaallllllll the way down to the base without any complaints. Even if it's too big, she'll try her very best❗️❗️❗️ And after that, perhaps you could have her service you in return when you take the strap off :3333 it's only fair, and she wouldn't want to leave you unsatisfied after all you've done for her 🤷‍♀️

[justawriterofstuff]

The thing about being revived

(MDNI)

Once upon a time, a sidekick wanted to be a hero and save a lady from the evilest, and vile person that ever existed.

And though his mentor told sidekick to not go, at least alone, sidekick still went off and did it anyway.

How was anyone supposed to know that he'd be tortured beyond belief, head smashed in with a crowbar, and when sidekick thought it was over, his hope of being saved by his mentor was all but vanquished as he stared down at the countdown clock where the bomb exploded.

A chunk of steel entered through his chest, straight through his heart before Jason could even scream, his body flung back.

And he was dead. Jason Peter Todd was for sure dead.

Dead when he was picked up out of the rubble.

Dead as he was prepped and ready for his funeral at fourteen.

And stayed dead as they lowered him into the ground.

But that was thing about Jason.

Forces outside of him would always have a hand at his life, and at his death.

Someone pulled him out from the ground, and dumped him into a hot vat of water.

Actually, he didn't know what it was.

All Jason knew was that he'd been in the in-between, when a green entity popped in, and latched on to him.

It forced Jason to feel physical pain as the entity snapped his bones back in place, beat the injuries off of him.

And it did something else to him too; his skinny fourteen-year-old self was suddenly taller, body thicker.

Thick like a man, like Bruce had been.

Agony ran up and down his body, and through his mind, and through his heart.

He lunged forward, ripping off the bandages that covered his face, as he took a deep breath.

It was chilled where he was being kept at, and he turned to face what looked like assassins watching him carefully.

This was too much for his renewed senses, so Jason staggered up from the green liquid, pulling his naked body over to the ground.

His limbs shook, goosebumps covering his skin, and when someone touched him, Jason snapped.

Gone was the young boy who'd been taken in and shown another way of life, trained extensively on how not to kill.

For Jason right now, this was his time to survive, and if life was going to shove him back into his body and rise him back up, the least he could do was choke life and not let go.

With raw power, sharpened senses that let him know he was going to get hit, and anger that was never-ending, Jason lashed out, clearing out the room until a woman appeared, holding a thick bathroom robe.

Jason snatched it from her, pulling it on. It was tight around his sudden broad shoulders but fell down past his ankles and offered him warmth.

He was looking at the woman before him with a wary glare.

"Look." she said, holding her hands up, her voice thick with an accent Jason couldn't place. "I'm Talia. And I want to help you."

Help. The word sent Jason's mind down into an unpleasant tumble, and he shook his head before he focused back on her.

"How?" he asked, almost jumping at how deep and low his voice had gotten.

How much time had passed? How old was he now?

"I saw how you put away all of these assassins with frightingly ease. If that was the case, they didn't deserve the honor of working for me. I want to hone your skills, and make you into an amazing weapon." she answered, Jason staring around at the crumble of bodies around him.

Oh fuck.

He had done that.

Bruce would be so pissed. Bruce-

-didn't save him. Didn't help him. This lady did.

Talia.

"I know you hold hatred for the clown and Bruce in your heart. Our goals are similar. I'll help you to get revenge on both of them." Talia continued, her dark eyes boring into Jason's green ones.

Green like the pit instead of the warm brown that they use to be.

"...what do I do?" Jason asked, Talia giving him a smile.

"You'll train with me here. And once you're ready, you can be the example for my son." she reached out as someone approached her with what looked like a one year old.

Even though Jason was dead, he could recognize the face bone structure of his mentor anywhere.

The baby had Bruce's face, hidden with baby fat, the same jet black hair, and those icy blue eyes.

Although this baby's eyes were a tad bit warmer, not yet frosted enough to be exactly like Bruce's.

"Bruce is his father." Jason said, surprised, and Talia gave him a wry smile.

"Of course Bruce is. He's the only one that doesn't know yet. I want you to be the role model that Bruce will never be for my son." Talia replied, the baby looking at Jason with curious eyes.

Jason wondered what the baby saw when he looked at him.

"What's his name?" Jason asked.

"Damian. Damian Wayne."

9 years later...

"You're being a fool right now. What kind of idea is that?" Talia asked Jason as she spoke to him over the computer.

Jason rolled his eyes.

"We both agreed that Gotham is a stain, and either needs to be wiped completely or taken under new management. It's the only reason why I took over all the drug rings running in and out of operations here." Jason replied, leaning back in his chair.

Talia huffed, rubbing her temple.

"I don't see what's the big deal. You have Damian training with your grandfather back over there so it's not like he's going to get hurt." Jason replied, and Talia stilled ever so slightly.

Of course, Jason noticed.

He always noticed.

"Don't tell me-"

"Damian has exceeded all expectations and trainings over here. He didn't see any of it as a challenge. But he learned of his father. Of Batman. I don't even know how-look. The point is, Damian arranged a meeting with Bruce. And he's gone and left with him back in Gotham." Talia finished, her gaze watching over Jason's face carefully.

Jason should have been hurt.

Sure, he was Talia's lackey up until he was twenty, and the squirt had just turned five, but once Jason found out about the new Robin, Jason had taken matters into his own hands, and went straight back to Gotham, carefully planning to take the underworld by storm.

Now at twenty-four, and Damian at just nine, he realized he didn't feel much of anything. Just a curiosity on how the kid who'd been trained nothing but violence would fare with someone who was abhorrently against killing.

"I guess I wish Bruce luck." Jason said instead, Talia rolling her eyes as she hung up. "What a frigid old bitch."

Jason knew he was going to do what he wanted anyway. Talia was in no place to ask for any type of demands, not after how easily Jason had managed to steal a million dollars from her father, and now Damian going off with Bruce instead of taking up the mantel of his grandfather's legacy, Talia wasn't in her father's good graces.

Jason sighed as he got up, and grabbed his red hoodie, putting the hood up.

He needed to take a break from his planning.

So he decided the park was fair game for him after all.

Sitting on the park bench, overlooking the trees and the playground, Jason took a deep breath, the cold Gotham air making him cold on the inside.

It was strange looking at the playground and realizing how small it was to his large frame.

Don't get him wrong, with Talia's training, and mental training, he eventually got use to his age and body. And with her teachings, Jason reluctantly admired how she'd kept it professional, also watching how she raised her son.

It did make Jason realize why Bruce decided to walk away from her.

Jason pulled out his zippo, flicking it opened and closed. He didn't smoke, only having the lighter as something for his hands to do.

The hairs on the back of his neck prickled, and he didn't flinch when a soft touch was placed on his shoulder.

Jason looked up, closing his zippo with a sharp click, as he saw you.

"Sorry for making you wait." you said, your eyes begging Jason to go along with it as he looked over to the man trailing behind you.

Disgust marred Jason's features as he looked at what he considered a rat man with oily slicked back hair in a twisted ponytail, the top of his head bald and shining. The man had thick glasses on that were smudged, a long patchy beard, and had a skinny chest but a beer belly.

It took Jason two seconds how to go about this situation.

His large hands grabbed at your waist gently, pulling you so you were draped on his lap as he nestled you close in his arms.

"It's okay doll, I thought I was going to have to track you down." Jason lied with ease, glaring at the creep.

The creep who actually flinched and without a word, bolted.

You heaved a sigh as you slid off Jason and sat next to him.

"Thank you so much. He was following me around since I got off shift and I didn't want to go home and have him follow me there." you told Jason, and he nodded in understanding.

"Just be more careful. Carry a weapon with you if you have to. Gotham is filled with creeps and goons." Jason said instead, surprising himself.

"Yeah, I'm going to have to at this point." you admitted, getting up from the bench. "Thank you though. I guess I'll see you around?"

"Maybe." was all that Jason said.

After all, he was still planning to save Gotham. That or erase it off the map.

[thescarletnargacuga]

Hey there! I just wanna start by saying that I absolutely adore your work! You always know how to pull a reader right in, and I always get excited when you post something new (especially the Showtime stuff, but I'm biased on that front).

Anyway, to keep the train rolling, I've got a Harlequin request for you:

Pomni is out on patrol duty, with a plucky little Cade in tow. Suddenly, they encounter a group of rogue marionettes that somehow snuck their way into the occupied part of the city. Naturally, Pomni's protective instincts kick in, and she engages them.

Cade has never seen his mom in combat before, and he's pretty excited at first, but when he witnesses the level of brutality she displays, he becomes rather frightened…

(It's my first time making a request like this, so I'm really really nervous. I hope this prompt isn't too weird or anything)

A/N: Anon, Anon, come here. Come closer. I won't bite. THIS IS PERFECT! This situation gives a chance for mother/son bonding and growth. While the world they live in has improved, it's still very dangerous. Thank you for this!

~

THE WAY OF THE COMBAT HARLEQUIN

A HARLEQUIN AU ONESHOT

Harlequin AU credit: @tadc-harlequin-au @iamespecter

WARNING: intense violence, mechanical gore, trauma, hurt/comfort

~~~

Cade had accompanied his mother on her patrols before but they've always been in the inner city. The worst thing she usually dealt with was a neighborly dispute. It was mostly an excuse to get her son out of the house and have him run his energy out.

Now that he was ten, Pomni figured he was ready for a more outer patrol. While not leaving the bounds of the occupation, they were further out from the main population and therefore there was a higher risk of seeing something that wasn't a puppet.

"Do you think we'll see a seeker!?" Cade asked as he swung an old piece of pipe like a sword. He hadn't received any combat training yet, but it's been promised to him. It's a necessary skill to survive. He's heard the stories of his mother's exploits and he's no stranger to dangerous situations himself. "I'd like another chance to take down one of those mechanical mutts!"

Pomni smiled at her son's enthusiasm, seeing so much of herself in him, but her motherly instinct overrides her combat harlequin pride. "I doubt it. The border patrols can handle more than a single seeker, and besides, you're not ready for-"

A group of panicked puppets ran towards them. Pomni grabbed Cade out of the way of the stampeding crowd. Cade dropped what he was holding out of surprise and held to his mother.

Before Pomni could ask what was happening, a tall humanoid marionette vaulted itself over a pile of crates and landed on a puppet. It stabbed the puppet in the chest with it's right hand, sharp digits pierced the puppet's heart and pulled out the core in one swift motion. The puppet's body immediately went limp on the ground as the D.I.E was encapsulated in the marionette's grasp and stored in the forearm.

Pomni's body geared for battle, this was worse than any seeker. She drew her sword. "Extractor!! Cade, run!" She pushed him away from her, motioning him to go with the fleeing puppets. She didn't take her eyes off the marionette, these things were fast and looking away for even a second could be deadly.

Cade hesitated to leave, completely overwhelmed by what was happening. "But mo-"

"GO!!" Pomni rushed the extractor as it made a move to chase another puppet. She deflected it's attacking reach, stopping the extractor in it's tracks. She stood between it and the innocent lives that depended on her for protection.

Cade took a few steps away but instead of fleeing, he hid. He's never seen his mother in full combat mode. He shrank further into his hiding spot as he took in the imposing form of the extractor. It had no face, only a smooth yet rusted mannequin like appearance. It was much taller than his mother, with long limbs that flexed in unnatural directions.

"I don't know how you got this far, but this is where it ends for you!" Pomni lashed out at the extractor. It dodged and counter attacked, reaching for Pomni's heart.

Pomni spun out of the way and brought her sword down on the extractor's arm, right in the elbow joint. She twisted her sword, breaking the joint, and kicked the marionette away from her. She continued her assault with a lunge at the extractor's power source.

The extractor caught it's balance and side stepped Pomni's attack. It grabbed her by the neck and slammed her to the side of a building. It would have gone for her heart, but it's broken arm hung uselessly. The marionette recalculated it's strategy. It threw Pomni into a stack of barrels, making them collapse on her and knocking her off her feet.

Cade gasped. His mother was unbeatable in his eyes, but her being on the ground for more than half a second was enough for him to run out from his hiding spot and get between his mother and the extractor. "Leave her alone!!" He stood bravely but seeing the extractor up close made his whole body feel cold with fear.

The extractor moved its head down to look at the small puppet. Detecting a D.I.E within reach, it's remaining good hand rushed to extract it. It's pointed fingers didn't get close.

Pomni exploded from the barrel pile. Sword and eye blazing with bright yellow energy. She speared the extractor in the gut, pushing it away from Cade. It's feet dug into the earth but the strength of the smaller harlequin forced it back.

"DON'T!" Pomni carved her glowing sword up the extractor's torso.

"TOUCH!" She tore her sword out it's side.

"MY!" She jumped and brought her sword down with both hands.

"SON!" She stabbed the extractor in the top of its chest, driving her sword down through the power source.

The extractor fell to its knees. A mechanical whirring screech emanated from it. Sparks showered the ground as it struggled to move. As it's systems we're failing, it sent out a call for reinforcements.

Pomni ripped out her sword and decapitated the extractor. The head rolled as the body collapsed. She breathed heavily through her teeth, out of both anger and fear. Before she could address Cade, more fast approaching danger made her flare up more with energy.

Two more extractors and an even larger, tank like marionette rushed Pomni's position. Now she knew how they got past the border patrols. Pulverizers were huge, heavily armored, and had arms that touched the ground, making their movement more akin to gorillas than anything human.

Pomni transformed her mechanical arm and sprinted towards the incoming attackers. She shot at one extractor, it leapt onto a wall and climbed to the roof. She shot at the other extractor, it was hit in the leg and it tumbled before getting back to it's feet. She aimed everything she had left at the charging pulverizer. Rusted armor flew off the marionette but it didn't slow down.

Cade covered his head from the percussive shots, it was louder than he ever thought it would be. The noise scared him back into hiding. He stayed out of sight as his mother warcried.

When all five shots were spent, Pomni focused her energy in her sword and waited until the pulverizer raised its arms to attack. When it did, she slid under it and hacked off one of its back feet. The pulverizer stumbled and crashed into a building, momentarily stalling it.

Cade flinched when the pulverizer hit the wall. It's face and shoulder were torn open, it's old frame falling apart from ages of lack of upkeep. He looked back to his mom as she roared at the marionettes.

"PREPARE TO DIE, MOTHERFUCKERS!!" Pomni was confronted and flanked by the two extractors, who attacked simultaneously. The one on the roof tried to come down on her head, but she rolled away and slashed the second. The extractors collided, giving her a chance to charge her sword and cast a flying razor light wave at them both.

The light cut through the marionettes as though they were paper, cleaving them both in two as the pulverizer came charging back. Pomni gritted her teeth and focused energy into her gun. Yellow light gathered at the end of the barrel as she aimed it at the pulverizer's head.

"DIE!!!!!!" A harsh beam of light blasted from her gun, vaporizing the pulverizer's head and most of it's chest. It fell, sliding to Pomni's feet. She continued to yell as she stabbed and slashed at the remnants of all the marionettes until they were nothing but magled scrap.

Cade was horrified. His mother had never spoken like this in front of him, even at her most angry. He didn't recognize her as she angrily tore apart the remains. He stayed where he chose to hide long after she finally calmed down.

Pomni punted the head of one of the extractors into the distance. "AND STAY DEAD!!!" She huffed, her eyes still glowing with mother bear fury. How dare these things choose today of all days to break through to what is supposed to be a safe zone. Cade could've been killed!!

Her mind slowly cleared from the combat hyperfocus. "Cade!?" She looked around for him, hoping he was still safe. She didn't see anymore enemies, but what if he had been hit by debris? She spotted him peeking out at her, but he quickly ducked away.

"Cade?? Are you hurt!?" She rushed over, kneeling next to his hiding spot. What greeted her wasn't relief or gratitude....but fear in her son's eyes. "Cade?" The light in her eye faded, she appeared as herself again, despite the fact that she was covered in marionette oil splatter. "It's okay, they're gone. You're not in danger anymore." She reached for him, but he flinched away from her.

A flash of blue light announced Caine's arrival. "Pomni!? I just heard- oh, you already took care of it." He looked over the carnage, taking how overkilled the marionettes looked.

"DAD!!" Cade bolted from his hiding spot, and hid behind Caine.

Caine kneeled down to his son's level. "Hey champ, you okay? I'm sorry you had to see those things up close, but it's a good thing mom was here. She took care of the bad guys."

Cade fearfully side-eyed Pomni and hid in Caine's arms. "I want to go home." He mumbled.

Caine protectively held Cade close and lifted him up. "We can go home."

Pomni felt hurt that Cade didn't want comfort from her. She tried to get close to Caine but Cade whimpered when she did. She could see him shaking and kept back. "I...I need to search the extractors for D.I.Es and check the outer patrols. Make sure there aren't more of those things lurking around. I'll catch up with you later." Pomni sheathed her sword and held a stoic expression as she passed Caine.

"Alright...?" Caine watched Pomni walk away. She was never this stiff after battle. "Stay safe." He wished her before blinking away with Cade.

~

Pomni couldn't get Cade's fearful expression out of her mind. Did seeing those things really frighten him that much..? No, he tried to face one, despite being defenseless. Then what was he so afraid-......oh.

Pomni stopped what she was doing, feeling like an extractor's claw was around her heart. Her own son saw her fight with all her strength against enemies that didn't warrant it. She's handled far worse with less. She tore them apart to protect her son. That didn't make her a bad person, right?

She reflected on every battle. Every boss. Every rat that ever had the misfortune of crossing her path. She killed...for fun. Her bloodlust was never satisfied. When she couldn't find something to fight, Caine would take up the mantle of spar partner to curb her hunger, but she always craved more.

Pomni looked at herself in the reflection of a rain barrel, really looked at herself. Her soul felt warm in it's chamber, like it was trying to comfort her. "Am I a monster...?"

~

Cade stayed in his room the rest of the day, not telling Caine much about what happened. He hid in his favorite box in the closet. He felt safest there outside of his father's arms. His room door quietly opened and shut. Someone walked across the room and sat outside his open closet. He stayed quiet.

"Cade..." Pomni gently called to him.

Cade didn't respond. While he didn't truly believe his mother would hurt him, but now that he knew what she was capable of, he stayed in his box.

"Cade, I hope...I hope you know that what I did today was for your sake. Those marionettes are very dangerous. They could have killed you and so many others. I had to..." Pomni trailed off, her voice failed her as she wanted nothing more than to hold her son. "I only ever want to keep you safe, but the world we live in is stupidly not safe." She gave a sad chuckle, fighting tears. "I'm sorry today was so much...you weren't ready...maybe you never will be. Maybe that's what I'm afraid of..."

Cade peeked out from his box. "You're...afraid?"

Pomni quickly wiped her eyes. "Yes, I'm terrified. That one day, I won't be there...when it really matters... Please...don't be afraid of me...I would never...I could never..." Tears forced their way out, streaming down her face.

Cade's never seen his mother this vulnerable either. All of this was so new for him. She was always so strong. Unbreakable. Unshakable. Today he thought she was too strong and now...she pleaded with him as though he held her heart in his hand. "Dad said you kill bad guys. They were pretty bad."

"They were. Very bad. I'm sorry I got carried away in front of you, I just...needed to make sure they would never hurt you or anyone else again. It's what I was made for, Cade."

"To protect?"

"To protect this city. And you are part of my directive too, have been since the day you were born. I would fight the world for you, Cade, because I love you."

Cade climbed out of his box and hugged his mother. Pomni pulled him into her lap and nearly broke down with relief. Cade felt safe so close to his mother's heart again. Their soul energy greeted each other so warmly. "...it was kinda cool how you cut those two extractors in half without actually touching them with your sword. How did you do that?"

Pomni took a steadying breath. "It's very advanced soul magic. It'll be awhile before you learn how to use it. A long while. For now, I just need you to do something for me." She adjusted him in her lap so she could look him square in the eyes. She needed to make sure she had his full attention. "When something like this happens, and it will likely happen again, when I say run, you run. Understand?"

Cade nodded. "Yes, momma. I don't want to stick around those things again, not until I know how to swing a sword like you. Then I can help you fight the bad guys."

"I'm hoping one day you get to live in a world without them, but...you are a harlequin. We're specialized puppets, and you have the greatest advantage over all who came before you."

"What's that, momma?"

"You can write your own directive. No human will ever do it for you. You can choose your own path from day one. I know you'll figure life out because you're smart, like your father..."

"And strong like you, momma. I'll be the bestest harlequin ever!"

Pomni smiled. "Yes, you will be, and I'm already so proud of you."

Cade and Pomni sat together in the young puppet's room for hours talking about what the future could hold, and the plan for his future training. He needed to be ready. The world wasn't going to wait for him to grow up before it threw it's worst.

[saiintvalentiine]

WAIT im back bc i remembered most of your followers are UUers :3c a bit of seavbo, if it pleases thee? can be requiescat verse but doesnt have to be!

ok well I'm not even gonna defend myself. in fact I don't even think I can defend myself. here's some requiescat flavored seavbo. tho tbh I don't think you need to know anything about requiescat to enjoy it.

Word count: 697

The gardens on the roofs of the Master level houses are always a pleasure to sit in. Seawatts misses them a little, but never enough to abandon his library. But Evbo keeps a house up here, somewhat separate from the cluster of the main city, and Seawatt has every permission to be here whenever he'd like to be.

He sits under an azalea tree, book in hand. His personal library of hand-transcribed books grows as he works on them between his other duties. Many are translations, Galactic to English or Parkour to English, unfit for adding to the library that he simply can't just throw out. He collects them in his little sandstone house, but he's begun to store some of them here instead.

He's probably read this version of this book a hundred times. It's smudged and covered in reworked translations. Nuance is hard, but translation is an act of love, for better or worse, and if there's anything left in this world that he loves, it is this.

Well.

He hears the clattering before he sees anything. Evbo lands on the moss and grass with a 360 flair, windmilling his arms so he doesn't directly topple onto Seawatt. He half succeeds, instead tumbling onto his knees next to where Seawatt's sprawled in the shade.

“Hi,” Evbo says with a grin, eyes glittering in the afternoon sun. “You're here.”

“I let someone else take care of the library today,” Seawatt says. It was terrifying, but necessary. Seawatt won't be around forever to take care of it. Others need to learn. “I've been here all morning.”

“You didn't say anything!”

“You're supposed to be helping the Champion right now.”

Seawatt pushes his glasses up his nose, gold rims reflecting light into his eyes. He shifts them until it doesn't bother him anymore.

“EMF is fine,” Evbo says, shuffling closer, still on his knees. “He said I was being annoying.”

Evbo hasn't realized it yet, or maybe chooses to not acknowledge it, but annoying in EMF speak means that he's been moping. Obnoxious means Evbo's been talking too much about Seawatt. Overbearing means he's stressed. They've developed a whole language around not rubbing Evbo's face into his emotional problems.

Seawatt closes his book and places it on the grass next to him, reaching over and running his fingers through Evbo's hair. Evbo follows the flow, lets Seawatt pull him in until their foreheads bump together.

“Hi,” Evbo says again, quieter, scrambling to take Seawatt's glasses off and store them away safely. “Hi, you're in my house, Seawatt.”

Seawatt's affections aren't easily won, even between them. Evbo knows that. Evbo likes it, even. So Seawatt waits. He doesn't pull him closer, doesn't push him away, just waits.

Evbo knows how Seawatt likes to be kissed. He presses close, presses their mouths together, lets Seawatt revel in the feeling before jolting into motion. He bites until Seawatt's lips are tingling, then soothes the sting with his tongue. He waits until Seawatt's a little lightheaded before pulling away. He lets Seawatt catch his breath, kisses a flight of moles across Seawatt's jaw, and Seawatt digs his fingers nice and well into the back of his head.

“The whole day,” Evbo says. “You've been here the whole day!”

“Mhm,” Seawatt responds lazily, head lulling back into the trunk of the azalea tree. “Since sunrise.”

“Since sunrise!” Evbo repeats, threatens Seawatt's throat with the blade of his teeth for a moment.

“Until sunset,” Seawatt tugs Evbo's head up so that they're eye to eye.

Evbo's always had expressive eyes, and now they spark. He flips them over, part skill and part godliness, so Seawatt is straddling his lap instead.

“Until sunset,” he repeats. “I bet you can finish reading me that book from last week.”

“You'll have to let me,” Seawatt pulls his hair again, this time as punishment.

“Get better at reading.”

Evbo grins, fierce in his demand.

“Bastard.”

Evbo just sticks his tongue out, arms wrapping around Seawatt and hugging him close, pillowing his chin on Seawatt's chest. Such a childish God. But a challenge is a challenge, and Evbo's always known how to bait Seawatt into rising to the occasion.

[strawberrybasilsorbet]

Jilytober Day 22

Disappeared for a minute because real life got in the way, but finally had some free time this evening! Here's my try at today's @jilytoberfest prompt:

October 22nd Prompt: "How long have you been standing there?" "Longer than you'd like."

Lily bit her lip and adjusted her grip on the Quaffle. She tried to focus solely on the three hoops in front of her — not the sunrise making her squint, not the challenge of keeping her broomstick balanced in the light breeze — as she tossed the unwieldy ball straight ahead with as much power as she could muster. It arced toward the hoops.

Unlike the last twelve shots she'd taken, this attempt didn't fall short or curve too far to the left or right. But just as Lily started to believe that her aim had been true after all—

"Damn it!"

—the Quaffle smacked directly into the side of the middle hoop and dropped unceremoniously toward the ground. Oh, well.

Lily watched, irritated, as the ball fell fifty feet onto the neatly trimmed grass of the Quidditch pitch, bouncing lamely toward the stands. In theory, she knew that she ought to have dived and caught the Quaffle out of the air, but she'd given that up after a few tries, deciding that it would be less frustrating to work on one Quidditch skill at a time. Instead, she repositioned her hands carefully on the broom handle before nudging the front end downward, all the while ticking off a mental checklist of Madam Hooch's old tips about form. Straight back, bent knees, dominant hand in front...

Lily's dive was more successful than her toss had been. She felt reasonably accomplished as she reached the ground, sweeping horizontally to an easy stop — or at least, she did, until she hopped to the ground and her broomstick immediately plummeted to earth. Ugh. It was definitely supposed to stay suspended in mid-air.

Lily huffed and put her arm out. "Up," she said. The broom leapt to her hand.

She let go. It dropped again.

"Oh, come on!" Lily exclaimed. It was way too early for this. "Up!" The broomstick zoomed into her hand again, stinging the palm.

Lily eyed it suspiciously. "Stay," she commanded. Tentatively, she took her hand off the broomstick. It kept its place in the air, hovering about three feet off the ground.

She took a slow step backward, watchful gaze on the broom. It remained airborne.

Letting out a breath of satisfaction, Lily turned and started trudging toward the Quaffle, which lay near the entrance of the pitch. She had barely walked three feet before she heard a loud thunk.

Lily whipped around toward her traitorous broomstick, which was now lying innocently on the ground, and swore. Colorfully.

Forget this. Lily was wasting time that would be better spent practicing her throwing and catching. She would just carry her broomstick with her during the game, and this little hovering trick would be entirely irrelevant. Solved.

She stomped back to the broom. "Up!" she called, catching it and throwing it over her shoulder. She turned around to grab the Quaffle, ready to get back into the air.

"Catch!"

Lily jumped. The Quaffle was soaring directly toward her, but the sharpest athleticism she could manage on instinct was to awkwardly bat it away. Her boyfriend, James Potter, stood before her, looking vaguely amused. "All right, love?"

She flushed bright red. "What are you doing here?"

James raised his eyebrows. "Last time I checked, I'm still Gryffindor Quidditch Captain for a few more days." He grinned. "You planning to try out?"

"Oh, shut up," Lily grumbled, feeling heat all the way from her forehead to her chin. "I was just leaving." James continued to grin as Lily stuck her nose in the air, stalking toward the stands with as much dignity as she could muster. When she'd gotten a few steps past him, James grabbed her around the waist from behind and swung her in a circle through the air.

Lily half shrieked and half giggled. "Oh my god, James," she said, "Put me down! Now!" He obliged, setting her down briefly before pulling her backward toward him and kissing her sloppily on the neck. Lily turned and smacked him on the shoulder. "You prat," she said, laughing, before kissing him on the lips. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Hmm, I don't know," James said mock-thoughtfully. "Longer than you'd like, I suspect." He winked as Lily glared. "You know, three attempts ago, I thought you came quite close to a goal."

"Shut up," Lily repeated. "What are you doing here, anyway? It's six-thirty in the morning!"

James shrugged. "Sometimes I like to go for an early fly."

"Oh." Lily kicked herself internally. He'd definitely mentioned that before...

"And you're out throwing Quaffles at sunrise, because?"

Lily rolled her eyes. "Oh, fine," she said grumpily. "If you must know, I was practicing for Saturday." She felt herself starting to blush again. Every year, James rallied his mates to organize an inter-house Quidditch game for the kids in their year (bar Slytherins) on the weekend after exams. Lily had never even watched the game before last June, but now that she and James were officially dating...

"I thought that might be it," James said. "Out of practice?"

"You know perfectly well that I haven't ridden a broomstick since first year! Am I supposed to embarrass myself in front of everyone?"

"It wasn't a jab, Evans," said James, reverting to her surname, as he always did when he wanted to reassure Lily that he was only teasing. She swallowed, and the burst of temper receded as quickly as it had come. James kissed her on the brow and wandered over to the Quaffle. "You know," he said casually, picking up the ball and brushing dirt off the side, "You could have asked me, if you wanted some pointers. I'm fairly decent at coaching." He looked over. "Any reason you didn't want me about?"

Last year, Cindy Clearwater had scored a game-winning surprise goal at the end of the post-finals match, leading to general cacophony and a stolen, spontaneous kiss. Not that Lily was trying to...recreate this, exactly. She wasn't twelve years old. It had just been very romantic, that was all.

"No reason," Lily finally replied, a bit cagily. She wasn't about to admit that she'd spent the first few weeks of last summer thinking about all her friends cheering in victory while Cindy's hands had twisted up into James's untamable hair...

He didn't press. "Well," James said, "I'm here now. Alright if I join?"

Lily nodded and James grinned, mounting his own broomstick. "Forget the school brooms, they're rubbish," he told her, gesturing in welcome. "You'll have much better luck with this one. Hop on."

And they soared together into the air.

So, alright, Lily thought half an hour later, watching the Quaffle fly through the hoop. Maybe she wouldn't impress James on Saturday with a flash of unexpected skill. But as he wrapped his arms around her on the broomstick, taking her hands in his to correct her grip — as they scored Lily's first goal together and James whooped with delight, too loudly, right in her ear — Lily found that Quidditch could be much more fun than she had ever realized.

[beneathsilverstars]

DO YOU HAVE ANY. headcanons about!! families?? outside of the party??

if not, relationships with food / cooking :]

Mira's family dynamics I talked about recently! Only child, lots of pressure to be her parents' perfect coddled baby, they loved her but couldn't love her bc they never gave her space to be herself. Let's say she has a mom and a dad, both trans. I think her parents struggled with infertility and had a previous late-term miscarriage — lots of time to desperately plan out their perfect family, and not much hope of a second child on whom to pin any of those dreams. They're so sad that she's not really in contact with them anymore, but they don't push it because they know they did something wrong, even if they don't quite get what they should've done instead.

Mira tried her best to go along with their plans and act properly as a child, but withdrew more and more as a teenager, then left at age 16. She didn't run away, and technically her parents gave their blessing, but they had a huge fight about it which had never really happened before. Sometimes Mira considers reaching out, but she feels too guilty about making her dad cry like that, and then upset that she feels guilty, etc. Easier to stay strangers.

-

Isabeau we know has a huge family! I think he has three older siblings and two younger (which means he has no older child responsibility, but also no younger child attention). Let's make them up real quick! But only with initials, I can't pull out names that fast.

31 - F - rebellious, angrily resists getting parentified 30 - J - overly kind, helps raise the younger kids, stressed 27 - M - neat freak, lots of hobbies/activities 24 - Isa - quiet, allergic to bothering anyone 23 - D - very sensitive both emotionally and sensorily 21 - L - fussy baby to loud and rambunctious child

The combination of D and L was very difficult! L knocks over D's tower, D starts wailing, L starts screaming, D cries so hard they throw up, etc. Also L's favorite activity from age 2-4 was escaping the house and exploring by herself! And that's why she was the last kid.

Let's say, two moms. Decent people, and good parents for the older couple kids at first, they love kids and looove babies! But they're a bit impulsive, and very stubborn, and really started to struggle with the last two kids. They still did a pretty good job with the most urgent issues, but they just didn't have time or energy for anything that wasn't an urgent issue.

Isabeau's parents often praised him for being so easy — you never cause trouble, you take care of yourself, you're so responsible! So he never went to them when he did maybe need help. Got good at teaching himself skills and repressing difficult emotions and not taking up space. Didn't protest chores, or other people not doing their chores. Didn't invite friends over. Didn't complain. Oh, Isabeau, so self-sufficient you hardly know he's there!

He got really good at reading a room! He's seen many a tantrum and argument, and quietly learned which resolution methods worked better or worse and even usually reasoned out why. He just... never did anything with that knowledge, because stepping in to mediate involves stepping in and becoming part of that conflict. Scary! And it's not like any of his siblings would listen to him, anyway, they barely remember he exists.

For the first half of his childhood, one of his mom's siblings lived with them too, along with their two kids. The cousins were nice enough, but 2 and 5 years older than F, and kinda fed up with all the young children pestering them. Though, out of everyone Isa was the favorite of the younger of the two, because he wasn't annoying and made a useful sounding board for her schoolwork. Isa got to learn about advanced topics and sometimes receive cool trinkets! Still not a super strong relationship, but he was devastated when she reached adulthood and moved out.

-

We know Odile's mom left when she was very young, I'm gonna say 1.5 years. She got past the baby period and went fuck, it's not getting easier? It's just getting different kinds of difficult? It's going to be difficult for the next 16.5 years??? And skedaddled. Odile's dad had also been ready for things to settle back into normalcy now that the baby was sleeping through the night and eating normal food, and was absolutely blindsided by his partner leaving. He got extremely depressed and relied a lot on community support to help care for Odile for the next little while.

Once Odile was walking and talking like a person, he was able to pull himself together and be there for her, and loved her so ferociously. But sometimes her laugh or something would remind him too much of her mom and he would kinda check out for the rest of the day. He hated thinking about his ex and then he'd start to hate her and then get so, so sad. Maybe even hate Odile for a moment and get even sadder. Why can't he just be content? Odile's the only light in his life, she's what makes everything worth it, why does he still wish he had her mom back instead?

Pobody's nerfect though and he did pretty well! Odile was a fairly cranky toddler because she just couldn't do all of the things that she so desperately wanted to be able to do (also trauma), but once she got past those first 5 years of constant developmental leaps, she mellowed out a lot. So she didn't mind hanging out and coloring or reading a book by herself while her dad was "taking a nap" (staring at the ceiling fighting his inner demons). And she love love loved all the things he did with her, reading and gardening and especially shopping — she got to write the grocery list and count out the money and everything! She got cranky-frustrated again as a teen, on top of increasingly complex feelings about her mom and realizing her dad is depressed as fuck, but they had a strong enough bond to make it through that phase okay.

At some point in her 20s Odile made him go to therapy! It helped, and so did anti-depressants. He even started dating again eventually and now has a nice husband, who Odile was quite wary of at first and generally not interested in getting to know. She's glad her dad is happier now, though! I think he's still alive during ISAT, but getting fairly old since he and his wife were a bit on the older side when Odile was born.

-

Bonnie is 11 years old during canon and Pétronille is 20; she ran away from home when Bonnie was 4 and she was freshly 14. She saw that their parents were starting to treat Bonnie the way they treated her, now that they were a full kid instead of a useless toddler, and she got them the fuck out of there!

(cw for the next paragraph: abusive parents, person who is both abusive and mentally ill and abused)

Nille is bipolar with psychotic symptoms, and I've been going back and forth on this but I'm gonna say yes it runs in the family and her mom was bipolar as well. She didn't really give a shit about her kids, she had them because that's what you do! She made Nille do most of the housekeeping, and help with her schemes to turn their lives around for real this time: surely if I perfect this recipe I can open a restaurant, surely if we rearrange the furniture I'll stop hating this house, surely if I buy and wear the right necklace my partner will love me again, etc. The second baby was an attempt to fix her relationship, and while she'd thought baby Nille was cute and had enjoyed the intense new baby-mom relationship, she got sick of baby Bonnie even faster and foisted their care onto Nille. Their dad was worse! He bonded with the person he did because he knew she'd be totally reliant on him, and he had kids because he wanted more people to control. Mom sometimes tried to stand up for the kids, but always quickly gave up and withdrew more or turned on them instead.

So! Nille stole her mom's jewelry, put Bonnie in a wheelbarrow and walked as far as she could. She ended up in Bambouche. She started working for a trio who fished and ran a shop/restaurant; she prepared the fish and washed dishes and other odd jobs, and she was allowed to bring Bonnie with her. Some people offered to take the two of them in, or babysit Bonnie, but she did not trust like that. So everyone just quietly patronized that shop a little extra so the trio could afford to do things like say "oh no I bought this huge bag of the wrong kind of rice, can't just serve a different kind, but I don't want it, guess I'll throw it away unless you could use it..?"

Eventually she started trusting her neighbors enough to directly accept leftovers and hand-me-downs, let Bonnie play at their houses, etc. Right in time for her bipolar disorder to really hit! She tried so hard to keep forcing herself through the motions for Bonnie, but one day she went into work manically ranting about how she was going to destroy Bonnie's life just like her parents did hers and her bosses were like woah there! They closed shop for the day to focus on checking on Bonnie and making sure they had babysitting arranged, finding Nille a therapist, and reassuring Nille that Bonnie was safe, and everyone will help make sure that Bonnie stays safe, and she can get help too so she can keep being a great gaurdian.

By pre-canon she is on anti-psychotics and mood stabilizers and knows a fuckton of coping mechanisms! She fishes now and sells her catches herself, and while she works Bonnie goes to school and runs around the village with the other kids and pesters travelers for stories and whatnot.

-

I don't have super solid headcanons for Siffrin's family yet because it makes me soo sad to imagine their family missing them or not-missing them or obliterated. So I'm trying to let myself just leave it open so I can practice the skill of "deciding on worldbuilding facts as they become relevant to your story instead of typing out an entire bible first". But let's say he had three parents and two siblings, which is pretty standard for the island, and lots of cousins and family friends. Someone or other is holding a huge cookout at least twice a week, and, and Siffrin was a really kind-but-mischievious older sibling and, bwahhhh 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

He sailed off for a couple hours at age 15 because his baba's super strict about everyone trying a bite of every food every time, yes even if you're sure you hate it it's important to be a good example for the younger kids and who knows maybe you'll like it this time! So Siffrin ran off to prove that he was basically an adult and not actually beholden to their rules, and they should appreciate his presence and take him seriously instead of treating him like a clueless baby.

:(

[path777]

darling: document title 천사 생일 anyway happy birthday angel i wish you happiness forever i'm sorry this birthday post is filthy and absolutely nasty. sorry

a bunch of stuff.. noona kink size kink graphic pussy eating whatever. squirting.? i usually characterize better than this but i started this one when i was baby carat so. anyway who gaf let's get into it

-

when you walk in, jeonghan is laying stomach-down on his bed, fully unclothed save for the pair of white socks on his feet which reach just above his ankles. there’s a purple dildo in his mouth, and he’s licking up the length of it with his eyes closed. he pulls away from it when you walk in, clearly embarrassed but trying to pretend otherwise, a thick string of saliva connecting the silicon and his lips. he swallows. 

“hi,” you say, trying to hide your smile, putting your bag down on the floor. “what do you have there?” 

jeonghan shifts on the bed, the sheets rustling as he did so. “a dildo.” he’s still holding it in his hand, the entire length of it practically glistening with his spit. 

“uh-huh,” you reply, taking off your coat and walking towards him. sitting down on the bed beside him, you place your hand on the small of his back. “who are you practicing for? shua? coups?” 

jeonghan laughs a little. “those guys don’t deserve my practice.” he’s told you a little about their escapades. “it’s- ‘s for you,” he says instead, ducking his head. the tucked strand of hair behind his ear falls like curtain between you - you see the tips of his ears turn red instead of his cheeks. 

“for me?” it’s your turn to laugh. “jeonghan-ah, i don’t have a-“

“i know!” he interrupts you, shy but bright - it’s uncharacteristic of him and so, so intriguing. “i know that, obviously.” it’s said with a little bit of attitude, like, you’re stupid for thinking that i would be that stupid, even if it was to tease me.

“i don’t know,” he says like he does, in fact, know, and tucks his hair back again to turn to look at you. “just- i was thinking of you, while- while i was-“ he stops, cheeks reddened. 

“tell me more.”

“thought about you pulling my hair. fucking my mouth.” jeonghan turns over then, dildo still clutched in his hands. your eyes are immediately drawn to his cock, flushed red against his stomach. he was clearly rutting against the bed before you entered, and what a lewd picture that paints — jeonghan fucking his mouth with a dildo, riling himself up, his own cock rubbing helplessly — needily — against the sheets. “i almost died, felt it all the way down here,” he tilts his head back just slightly and touches his adam’s apple, “i could feel my throat stretching to fit it.” 

he adjusts his position a little, recalling the scene in his mind. he had been trying to relax his throat, relax the muscles there fighting to contract against the intrusion. it had just barely worked as he felt himself start to gag at the last second, throat choking and pulsing around the silicon. but it had felt strangely good — the stretch of his throat accommodating the thick dildo leading him to rut needily underneath him, the friction of the sheets against his cock — already leaking and wet — eliciting soft whiny noises from him. 

“thought you would make me take it anyway, no matter how big…” jeonghan looks at the dildo in his hands, embarrassed and a little guilty, “as if you were doing me a favour, knowing that i like it.” 

“noona, i want- i want-” he continues, eyes big and doelike, gazing up at your from his place on the bed. “can i…eat you out?” it’s not a strange request from him but it is one out of place, with his state of undress and your state of, well, not — not to mention the desperate state of his arousal. 

jeonghan takes off only your skirt and panties, leaving your blouse intact. if he looked lewd before, he looks unbelievable now, with his gaze on your cunt, eyes hungry, and his cock hard and leaking but still untouched.

and nobody eats pussy better than jeonghan — not because he’s particularly skilled, but because he just loves it so much. it’s in the ravenous way he pulls down your panties and licks his lips at the sight of you, glistening with slick. it’s in the first lick of his tongue, flat and wide, clear in an attempt to try to taste as much of you as possible. and he always moans, after that first lick, like he’s eating his first meal in days. and he continues this way, messy and wanting, without a care for the kinds of obscene noises he’s making, or with the amount of slick getting onto his cheeks. 

usually, this makes you want to hold him down and ride him until he cries, but today was a little different. cheekily he laps at your cunt, nosing at your clit lewdly. his moans are obscene, exaggerated — provocative. 

it’s like he wants to make you do something about it, like place a hand at the back of his head and shove his face deeper in your cunt, or tell him that he’s a messy slut who loves to get his face fucked. 

“jeonghan-ah, you’re being so sloppy. are you even trying to make me come? do you just love my taste this much that you’re trying to have it for dinner?”

“noona- ah-!” his voice comes out muffled and wet, your hand on the back of his head. “noona always tastes good, mmh-” he mumbles into your cunt, tongue lapping at you without pause. 

“you’re so good to me, jeonghan-ah. such a- mmh- good girl for noona,” the pet name slips out of you carelessly as he suckles at your clit, but he pulls away sharply. “say that again,” he says, before leaning back once again. “say-”

“want me to call you a good girl? my good girl?” jeonghan moans against your cunt in lieu of a response, the ends of his hair tickling your thighs. and from this angle he really does look like a girl, a crown of blond hair surrounding his face, obscuring any features that might tell you otherwise. his tongue is laving flat against your pussy, licking sloppily, almost lapping up your slick. “i have such a sweet girlfriend,” you coo. “i’m so lucky to be with a cute girl like you who loves to get her mouth fucked.” jeonghan’s lips wrap around your clit and suck, drawing a broken whine out of you, “god, hani, you’re so good at that, fuck-“

-

“you’re so tight, baby,” you murmur, two fingers inside jeonghan up to the second knuckle. “you’re a virgin here, right, hani? my girlfriend’s first time getting fingers in her sweet little cunt? how does it feel?”

“feels good,” he responds, lips parted, eyes glassy. “feels- different.”

“different how, angel, tell me,” you coax, wanting to hear more. jeonghan’s voice is wet, thick with arousal when he continues, “feels like- feels like ‘m gonna come just on your fingers- ah- feels so-“ 

“oh, is that what it is?” you tease, “you’re feeling sensitive because no one’s ever touched you here before? inside this pretty cunt?”

“no- never, never-“ jeonghan chokes, hips rolling down in sync with the motions of your digits. “please, more, want more-“

“again,” you request, fingers curling, stroking at his prostate. 

“please, please give me more, mmh- my- my cunt wants it, wants it so bad-“  

“jeonghan-ah, you have to relax. you’re already clenching so tightly around just two fingers, how are you gonna take my cock?” you scissor your fingers to emphasize your words. “you’re so tight that i feel like i can’t pull my fingers out. what, you like it this much?”

he makes a soft noise like a whimper, “‘s my first time-“ he moans as you start rubbing against his prostate, “i’ll be good, i promise, i’ll take all of it, whatever you give me-“ he breaks off with a choked whine, eyes rolling to the back of his head as you massage that spot with your fingers. “i’ll be good, i’m your good girl, mmh-“ your relentless massaging of that sweet spot has left him boneless, leaning back onto you with nearly all his weight. his cock, pink and pretty at the beginning of this evening, is flushed red and wanting, obscenely leaking from the tip. “look your cute little clit, angel, it’s all swollen,” you murmur. “will you touch it for me? touch your sweet clit for me?” your words send something of a spark down his spine, and his hand reaches forward to stroke at his cock. using the copious amounts of precum, slowly he works his fingers up and down, moaning and whimpering uncontrollably with the stimulation, both himself at his cock and you at his hole. “noona, wanna- wanna come, please-“ he whines, voice high and wobbly. “touched my- my clit like you said, gonna come-“ his cock is twitching and jumping at every sensation, clearly sensitive, “noona- please let me come, i’m yours, this pretty clit is yours, my cunt is yours, please-!”

“i might have to plug you up, hani, you love it so much- look at you, sucking my fingers in like that. what do you think, hm? a nice, thick plug buried inside you all day, feeling it when you walk, when you sit. when you dance. nobody but you and i will know that my sweet girlfriend has got a thick, fat cock inside of her, has been deep inside all day, and she’s been trying her best not to come at any moment, into her undies like a slutty little girl.”

“fuck-!” jeonghan swears, his voice pitching up like a squeal. “it’s so big, why is it so big- mmh- oh-!” he covers his face with the crook of his elbow, lips quivering as you settle the strap all the way inside him. “feels full, so full- how is it fitting-“ you adjust your position, jostling the silicone inside him. jeonghan whines, loud and obscene, rocking his hips in search for that same sensation. words burst from him like a breaking dam, 

“i’m yours, your good little girlfriend with a sweet cunt that needs to be fucked- ngh- ah- my tight cunny’s all yours, i’m your good girl-“ jeonghan chokes out, his cock leaking more precum between your skin with every word. “oh god, you’re so big- ‘m gonna come, ngh- gonna come on your thick cock noona-“

he feels like a rag doll underneath you, body shaking with every thrust - but he’s taking it so well, every movement of your hips burying your strap as deep as possible inside of him. “feel it in my stomach noona, oh god-“ jeonghan places a palm over his stomach as you fuck into him relentlessly, “please, i’m- ‘m too full-!” and he comes then with a cry, ropes of white shooting from his cock. but you don’t stop or slow down your harsh pace, continuing to fuck him full of the strap. 

“noona-! noona, noona, noona-“ jeonghan wails, trying to twist away from you to no avail. “i came already, i came untouched, just for you, just from fucking my pussy, please-“

“sorry, jeonghan-ah, but noona knows that this pretty cunt can take another, hm? don’t you wanna squirt for noona?” 

he feels like a live wire; every touch of yours setting him alight. your hand reaches around, wrapping around his cock, softening and still sensitive. he’s a mess, too fucked out to even speak as your every thrust and jerk of your hand brings him closer to yet another release. broken moans and whines fall from his lips as you take your pleasure from him, a litany of noonas and pleases like music to your ears. it doesn’t take long for him to come again, his cock dribbling out liquid with the consistency of-

“oh my god,” he gasps, “oh my god,” he says again, moaning as he releases more into your hand. “noona, i- it’s-“ he looks embarrassed at the pleased look on your face, “noona-!” he whines, pouting. “don’t look at me like that. go run me a bath.”

-

extra extra read all about it (aka snippet that didn’t make the cut):

“jeonghan-ah, one day, here’s what we’re going to do. i’m going to put your hair in a neat braid, gonna do your makeup all pretty and put you in a little dress - something soft and cotton - and we’re gonna go out shopping. people will think you’re my best friend, hm? we’ll link arms and kiss each other on the cheek, and you’ll blush for me, hani; yes, just like that - nice and pretty. oh, did i mention that i’m gonna plug you up beforehand? something sizable and thick, just how my girl likes it. i’ll pull you into some store. grab something random. the attendant’ll let us share a dressing room, she’ll think our friendship is sweet. i’ll lift the hem of your skirt up, and you’ll be leaking already, the condom on your cock already filling up. it’s a miracle no one saw your cock through your dress - that wouldn’t do. you’ll whimper in my ear, rutting your cock on my thigh like the slutty thing you are - my girlfriend all worked up, always so desperate. you like that, hani? you’ll look like such a sweet, innocent girl - but secretly has been needing her mommy to fuck her all day long, dripping wet and horny, as if she were in heat.”

[inkmonster21]

A Cowboy’s Love

Yellowstone Ryan x OC!Dutton

Part ONE

Series Masterlist

This is Part TWO

Warnings: Smut (oral male reviving)

🤠

Ryan entered the bunkhouse bathroom, feeling the weariness of a long day's work settling into his bones. He was taken aback by the unexpected sight of Hattie, standing unabashedly naked in front of the mirror. "Whoa!" he exclaimed in surprise.

Hattie chuckled mischievously, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "I knew you'd be here. Figured why not, plus there's no more hot water at the house. I think that's where Jamie goes to cry." Ryan maintained his gaze fixed firmly on the wall, struggling to keep his eyes away from her. He tried to sound firm as he insisted, "Hattie. Put your towel on." Despite his resolve, he couldn't resist the playful pout she gave him.

Hattie stepped closer to Ryan, her hands teasingly caressing his shoulders, “oh, come on. Don’t you want me?” Ryan tried to contain his frustration, but his resolve was weakening. "Damnit, Hattie," he muttered. She continued her approach, pressing her naked body against him. "Everyone will be back in soon,” Ryan warned trying to stay resilient. Ryan caved, just slightly, his hands dropping to her bare hips, kneading the flesh beneath his fingertips. "Then I guess you better fuck me quick,” she spoke lowly. He met her gaze, his eyes dark with desire.

Ryan's lips and teeth attacked her neck, leaving a trail of kisses and bites that made her moan into his chest. She arched her back, finally making eye contact with him. "I thought about you all day," she whispered. Ryan smirked, his eyes dark with desire, as she pulled him close again. Hattie wasted no time, pulling his shirt over his head before working on his pants.

Before Ryan could comprehend it, they were both in the shower. Hattie's hands roam with skilled grace, gliding over his soapy chest and down his taut stomach. Her touch was electric, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through his body. Their lips crashed together in a passionate kiss.

Tongues danced fervently, tasting and exploring, the hot water raining down on them, amplifying the intensity of the moment. She stroked him slowly, her touch firm yet gentle, her thumb brushing over the sensitive tip.

Ryan's head fell back, his eyes fluttering closed as waves of pleasure radiated through him. He moaned, his hands reaching to grasp

Hattie's hips, pulled her against him so he could feel her soft, wet body against his.

"Fuck, Hattie," he growled, his voice hoarse with desire.

Guiding his hands, she urged him to lean back, pressing him against the shower wall. She sank to her knees, taking his throbbing cock in her hand, stroking it slowly, enjoying his sharp intake of breath and the way his hips bucked slightly in response. Looking up at him through her lashes, she swirled her tongue around the head of his cock, tasting the beads of pre-cum that had formed there.

Ryan's hands fisted in her wet hair, guiding her as she took him deep into her mouth, sucking and swirling her tongue. The water still ran over them, turning the shower into their own little steamy paradise. Hattie moaned softly around his length, the vibrations sending shudders through Ryan's body. He could feel his orgasm building already.

"Fuck, Hattie, I'm gonna cum," Ryan warned his voice tight with pleasure. Hattie didn't slow down; instead, she quickened her pace, taking him deeper, sucking hard, wanting to taste him, to feel him explode on her tongue.

As they were concealed in the shower, their bodies working together, the sound of the bathroom door opening startled them both. Colby appeared in the doorway, interrupting the moment. "Hey man, we’re all going out to the bar. You in?" he asked casually, unknowing of the scandal behind the curtain.

Ryan's hips bucked, his hands gripping the walls of the shower. Ryan stumbled over his words, caught off guard by Colby’s sudden appearance. "Uh, yeah, man," he managed to say, his voice betraying his surprise.

Colby's gaze darted to the shower, his brow furrowing at the sounds emanating from within. "You alright, man?" he inquired, his curiosity piqued.

He couldn’t hold it any longer. Ryan unleashed himself into her eager mouth. Hattie lowly moaned with satisfaction as she swallowed every drop, milking him dry, her green eyes peering up at him through her lashes.

Ryan clenched his teeth, praying that no suspicious sound would escape him. "Yeah, man, just... almost cut myself," he lied, bracing for a response. Colby seemed appeased with the explanation, his expression relaxed slightly. "Alright man, we’re all heading out." As the door closes behind Colby, Ryan's shoulders sagged in relief.

"Damn, woman," Ryan panted, his legs feeling like jelly. "That was—fuck, I don't even have words." Hattie giggled, a mischievous glint in her eye.

Ryan pulled Hattie closer, his lips finding hers in a deep, passionate kiss. "Come with me," he murmured. Hattie pulled back from the kiss, a slight scoff escaping her lips. "To a bar?" she echoed, raising an eyebrow in disbelief.

Ryan's eyes sparkled with playful mischief as he spoke. "Yeah, it'll be fun. We can drink, and dance a little. Come on, Hat." He gently tugged on her, trying to entice her. Hattie rolled her eyes, resisting his attempt to get her to go. "No thanks," she repeated. Ryan fixed her with a look, his eyes serious. "You've got to let me take you out, Hattie."

Hattie shook her head stubbornly, refusing to engage in the same conversation again. "I'm not having this conversation with you again," she stated firmly. "I shouldn't have even come down here."

Ryan grabbed her wrists, his voice laced with concern and affection. "I care about you, Hattie," he said earnestly. But she wrenched her hands-free, her gaze dropping to her feet as she muttered, "That's your first mistake." Without looking at him, she turned off the water and said firmly, "You better go."

Ryan was at a loss for words, frustration, and emotions welling up inside him. He wanted to scream at her, make her see that their connection was something real, something that could last. But he knew it would be pointless. Hattie was resistant. If she blocked out all emotion, then she couldn't get hurt.

Hattie waited patiently until the sound of the bunkhouse door closing signaled that Ryan was gone. Then she emerged from the bathroom, confident in her actions. Lloyd, sitting at the table, couldn't resist inquiring, "Think your dad would like you showering in the bunkhouse?" She responded with a smirk, taking a seat next to him. "Why do you think I do it? I like the test his limits.”

"You're going to give that boy a heart attack," Lloyd remarked, a hint of concern in his voice. Hattie rolled her eyes, her frustration evident. "If I'm going to get lectured by you too, I think I'll just go to bed," she stated matter-of-factly.

Lloyd remained calm, his voice holding a note of understanding. "I just see how happy you make him, and how happy he makes you," he pointed out.

Hattie shook her head, her expression resolute. "I don't do relationships anymore, Lloyd," she asserted.

Hattie leaned into his side, wrapping her arms around him in a tight embrace. "I'm going to Lee's," she murmured. Lloyd waved his hand lazily in farewell. "Sleep tight, Hattie. See you in the morning."

Hattie made her way towards the foreman cabin, spotting her brother Lee sitting on the porch.

Lee observed her with a perceptive glance. "You look tired," he commented, his rocking chair creaking softly.

Hattie sank into the seat next to him and signed heavily. "I am forever bound by my stupid choices," she lamented.

Lee shot her a knowing smile and inquired, "Oh God. What did you do this time?" Hattie passed her hands over her face, realizing her hypocrisy. "I talk crap about Beth all the time, but here I am, making the same damn mistakes," Lee smirked, his eyes narrowing. "Ryan, again?"

Hattie swiped the beer from Lee's hand, gulping answering. "Yes," she acknowledged. "He asked me to go with him to the bar. A damn bar, Lee." Lee shrugged nonchalantly, his voice tinged with a hint of playfulness. "Is it because it's not your style, or are you just being stubbornly thick-headed?"

Hattie crossed her arms defensively, resisting the urge to admit the truth. Lee saw through her facade, though. "Hattie," he said gently, "I doubt Ryan is anything like Vince." She huffed, taking another drink, "I know he's not. I just... I can't commit." Lee sighed, his patience wearing thin. "You've got to do something. We've had this same conversation three times. I feel like my advice is wearing thin."

Hattie shook her head, struggling with the weight of her thoughts. "No, it's good advice, Lee," she admitted. "I just think about how uncomfortable it would be."

Lee considered her words and responded, "Yeah because the two of you don't spend every minute together already."

Hattie protested, "But Dad would-"

Lee cut her off. "Dad would do nothing. You're worrying about everyone else but yourself. You deserve to be happy. Give Ryan a shot. A real date."

Lee's wisdom and astute judgment of character were reliable. If he was recommending she take a chance on Ryan, it couldn't be the worst idea in history.

[malfoy-mrsdracomalfoy]

End Of An Era

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader

House: Not mentioned

Warnings: Hints to sex. Angst.

Word Count: 2850

Summary: Draco and Fem!Reader's complicated relationship comes to a head when answers are demanded. Prepare to divulge into the heads of two very wounded souls longing for one another.

PART ONE

Reader's Point Of View:

I walk out of Draco's prefect dorm, gazing back at his shirtless figure on the silk emerald green bed spread, still asleep. The blankets are pulled up to his waist and he's stretched on his back. He's in the same position we were in before I slipped out of bed, wrapped around me. He's curved around an empty space now. I could crawl back in with him and fit perfectly without trying. Pieces of his hair are still sticking to his once-sweaty forehead. His chest moving slowly up and down as opposed to his panting and ragged breathing earlier. His lips are slightly parted, his eyelashes laying on his cheek. His platinum hair glowing in the moonlight. He radiated an ethereal glow and if I stared too long, I'd weep.

I slowly close the door, carrying my shoes, my hair messy from his hands tugging through it earlier. I hear a rumbling chuckle and look to the source of the noise. Blaise Zabini was in the hallway, one door down- about to enter his own dorm.

"Fun evening?" He teases with a wink. Flushing, I pat down my hair and stand taller.

"Amused, Blaise?" hearing Draco's own voice in my head as I make the comment. I have subconsciously taken on many of his mannerisms. Blaise smirks in amusement and walks into his dorm, rendering the hallway empty. I hear Draco's shuffle in his bed spread, so I take off quickly down the hall, feet tip-toeing on the cold floor. My gentle steps become a small jog upon stepping outside. I hiss at the wet grass squishing under my bare feet. But as I keep walking, it becomes a comforting grounding technique. I focus on the feeling, trying not to let my thoughts take over me completely. I begin to breath deeply, feeling my chest settle into a familiar longing. I wanted to turn around and lose myself in him again, but I know it's not a good idea. I wasn't supposed to get attached. We agreed- no feelings, only pleasure. I push forward, finally making it into my dorm.

Next Day, Potions Class- 7am

Using my dropper, I put three drops of a clear liquid into the cauldron quietly bubbling before me. The low chatter of the students around me buzzing in my head. I think I've just about perfected this potion, and I feel a sense of excitement. It was a complex potion. This is our final assignment this term. We were each to brew a potion of our choosing that will be graded on level of difficulty, precision and skill.

I hear a quiet giggle and a whiny whispered "Stooooppp Dracoooo". Hearing his name I look up immediately, heart racing. I need to get a glimpse of him. My stomach dropped when I found him. Sitting in the back of the class by Astoria Greengrass, tickling her ribs with a smirk. 'I may vomit' I think to myself, trying to focus on my breathing again. He leans in with a smirk on his face and a whispered, "You like when I touch you." She blushes, and nods. He looks over her face, feeling victorious.

I stare on, wanting to look away but frozen still. He reaches up and tucks a strand of her hair behind her ears, keeping eye contact. She giggles and gives him a shove and an amused grin flashes across his face. I see the glint in his eye from here, he's feeling mischievous. But not with me this time. They turn back to their respective potions, and upon him sensing my eyes, he looks up. I try to look away but I gasped softly instead. Something flashes very quickly on his face, then he composes it back into his stoic mask. He glances over at his friends Crabbe and Goyle at their table to the left of him, quickly back to me for a fraction of a second, and then back down to focus on his work. 'Right' I thought. He only calls me when he wants a release.

Transfigurations Class- 9am

I'm sat in the front of the class, attentive as usual hanging on to the professor's every word. Feeling eyes on me, I look to my right where Draco sits across the aisle. His features one of admiration. Noticing my eyes on him, the expression dropped quite completely and turned into a smirk, followed with a wink. He gave me a once over, eyes slowly raking my body suggestively. He looks up again with his bedroom eyes. I slightly blush and face forward, letting my hair act as a curtain between our two faces. I try to act nonchalant but my fingers start to tremble in anticipation for later. He will definitely be making my toes curl.

Later that afternoon, Draco's Dorm- 1pm

He did make my toes curl.

He looks at me softly. A look he only gives me in the privacy of his dorm. He leans in and presses a sweet kiss to my lips, lingering. His neck and chest have a thin layer of sweat from the exertion earlier. "You are so beautiful." He whispers tenderly, running his hands up and down my back. I feel warmth spread in my chest, and I slide a hand up his chest to cup his neck. "So are you." I whisper back, fingers now sliding up and down the side of his neck. His eyes roll back at the touch, and he leans into them. He leans forward and kisses me gently again. I wrap my arms around him, pushing my cheek against his chest. He's got me wrapped completely in his arms, his chin tucking my head into him further. He slides his fingers through my hair. After a few moments, I feel him start to pull back.

He pulls my arm off of him and sets it down in the empty space that separates us. He shuffles back and clears his throat, getting off the bed. He stands, turning away from me walking off in his naked glory. I watch his retreating figure, missing his warmth. I sigh. I know what's coming.

"You better go. I have Charms." He said, casually standing at the door of his in-suite bathroom. Feigning indifference. "Thanks for the shag." My jaw dropped and my stomach hit the floor. Why does he always do this? I sit up, nodding, feeling embarrassed. I keep the covers wrapped around me as I slide out of his bed. He looks over, his face stoic besides a raised eyebrow.

"Feeling shy? You weren't earlier when you were moaning my name." He retorts, arrogantly. I ignore him, dropping eye contact as I begin to grab my clothes off the floor, hugging the covers tighter around my still-naked form. I don't want to interact with this Draco. Upon receiving silence he scoffs in disbelief "Birds." He mutters. With that, he enters his bathroom, shower running. He wants to wash me completely off him. I fume, throwing his bed spread on his floor childishly. I shove his pillow off the bed too for good measure. I slip my clothes back on and don't even bother saying bye as I slam his dorm door shut behind me. The watchful eyes of the Slytherins in the common room follow me as I storm out.

Last Class, Divination- 3pm

Draco slides into the chair next to me, throwing an arm around my shoulders "Hey y/l/n" He drawls. I scoff and nudge him off. "Oh not very friendly then?" He teases reaching for me again. I am very fed up with his hot and cold behavior. "Shove off." I tell him, annoyed. A dark look crosses his face again. "Right. Your loss." He walks off, anger simmering the surface of his perfectly composed facade. I feel a tang of regret. I didn't change everything, did I? I hope not. I try to catch his eye throughout the class and he avoids it every time. A hollow feeling settles in my gut.

Astronomy Tower- 8:30pm

I make my way to the astronomy tower, the cool evening doing little to calm the storm raging inside me. I make my way up the spiral staircase quickly and silently. I step on the platform and approach the railing, looking at the grounds. The wind has picked up now, the breeze is blowing my hair back as I lean forward. Everything is dark. The sky as black as the clothes on my back. I'm pensive, my hands clasped around the railing in front of me. I am reminded of when I found Draco standing in this very spot, in same position I am in now.

I hear footsteps on the stairs, but I do not turn around. I already know who it is. I feel his energetic field as he makes his way toward me. It's pressing against my stiff back. I always know when it's him. I would recognize him blindfolded with deaf ears. The footsteps halt directly behind me, and his familiar voice, lower than I've ever heard it before, breaks the silence.

"Are you just going to avoid me?" His tone carries an edge of vulnerability that's entirely foreign to him. I sigh out, "I want to be alone." voice as quiet as the wind. But, that's not true at all. He steps closer, his platinum hair catching the moonlight as he moves. His voice softens slightly, barely above a whisper- almost like he's afraid I'll run away if he speaks any louder. He's probably right. "To avoid showing someone how you truly feel? Because that's what you're doing." Unable to fight them anymore, tears fill my eyes. I blink them away quickly. I will not show weakness. Not right now.

"Why do you care?" I say, masking my pain with anger. He watches me stare out at the grounds, the breeze ruffling my hair.

"Answer the question." he says, firm now.

"You've shown a blatant disregard for how I feel so many times. Why does it matter now?"

"It just does." He snaps, his patience wearing thin. He crosses his arms over his chest, glaring at the back of my head. I feel his energy shift. I can feel his anger stewing. He takes a deep breath to reel it in.

"Are you angry?" I ask

"Yes." He grits out. He's angry that he's feeling emotions he's suppressed for years. He's angry that I make him vulnerable. He's angry that I've pulled myself away from him and he's angry he even cares to notice or ask about the shift in me.

"At me?" I ask so quietly he had to strain to hear me.

"Yes. At you. For being such a..." He runs a hand through his hair a little aggressively. "Such a stubborn, frustrating, infuriating.." He trails off, realizing he's getting carried away. His jaw clenches again. "Just tell me how you feel." He says, anger subsiding slightly.

"I don't want to tell you." I am trying really hard to keep my guard up, I'm trying not to feel anything, just like him. He moves closer, his voice dropping lower, more dangerous "Tell me.." He spins me to him so I'm facing him completely. He wants to hear a confession from me, he wants validation that he's not alone in his sentiments. "Because I'm losing my mind here." He's breathing heavier now.

"I don't want to!" I say, firmer now. If he wants a confession, he needs to go first. I'm tired of being the only vulnerable one in our relationship.

"I don't care what you want right now." He snaps, his face inches from mine. His hand tightens on my shoulder, his fingers digging in slightly. "You're going to tell me because I need to know. You're going to tell me because I told you to..." His eyes searching my own "I need to understand. So just fucking tell me." I stiffened slightly, not used to hearing him curse so brazenly.

"Don't tell me what to do." I say, astonished at him. How dare he demand something so huge from me. Especially after the way he spoke to me earlier.

"Stop being difficult." He growls. He sees my jaw set, seeing my eyes flash with defiance. He watches as I push my shoulders back. "Fine. Don't answer me." He steps back, relenting. I am furious. He demands me to admit to such deep feelings for what? So he can close off or make me feel awful about them? Is this about his ego? I am going to push him to admit to me. He doesn't get to have the upper hand this time.

Without thinking, fueled by frustrations I say, "You are only pretending to care. Tell the truth. You just want to know if I'll still be around to shag!" That did it. His face contorts in anger, and thoughtlessly he responds, "Fine, you want the truth? I only came here because you shrugged me off in class and I wanted to see if you are still going to be around to shag."

I felt sucker-punched but I know I deserved it. I sullied his character. I assumed the worst about his motives and insulted him. I say nothing. He stares at me for a long moment. Straightening up, he tries to do some damage control. "Maybe you actually mean something to me." He admits, finally.

"I mean something to you?" I don't hide my shock. He freezes, realizing what he's just admitted. He sees my expression and he curses under his breath. He's not about to admit anything else. He sees my inquisitive gaze and says, "Forget it."

I've had it with him. Furiously, I say "Forgotten. Go on then! Lock your emotions and vulnerability up- again! Go dig so deeply into yourself that you never come up. Never noticing what's in front of your unseeing eyes- until it's gone." His eyes widen slightly at my outburst. He sees the desperation, hurt and anger in my eyes and for a moment, he's take aback. He's not used to such outward display of my emotions. I am a level-headed person even at the worst of times. He hesitates, his expression softening slightly. "What's that supposed to mean?" He tries to act unphased.

"It means if you weren't so bloody proud you would let someone in! Maybe give someone a chance to love you" I say, still feeling bold. I'm not holding back anymore. His expression darkens, anger flashing in his eyes again.

"Love?" He scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest again- a protective shield he feels the need to hide behind. "Who said anything about love? You think I need love? You think I'll ever sit there and pine for some bird?"

"There he is again." I said plainly. He glares at me, his face reddening with anger.

"And, what? You fancy yourself that girl? The girl I would ever love? You're nothing but a good shag once in a while. That's all you'll ever be." He says, cruelly. I recoil like he's struck me. This has gone too far.

"Okay." I say, calming myself even though my heart is shattering and I feel sick with rejection. "We aren't getting anywhere tonight. I think we're far too emotional." I try, attempting to settle the waves before they drown us completely.

"Us? There's no us, in any sense of the word. There never was, and there never will be." Our conversation has ended. He was back to showing the worst parts of himself. He is shoving me away again, avoiding emotions and locking himself away in an impenetrable vault.

I meet his gaze, my face stoic and calm even though I was feeling like I was getting shred from the inside. My heart felt like it was was brutally stomped on, my chest was so tight I could hardly breathe. I felt sick, my ears began ringing and I began to tremble, feeling very weak. I shifted my posture to find strength enough to stand.

This was it. Whatever we had, whoever we were ended. I needed to face tomorrow and every day after without him. He looks back at me, posture as stiff as my own. There is a storm brewing in his silver eyes. I didn't know if it was anger or something else. His brows were furrowed, mouth slightly open. He looked away so I couldn't inspect further.

"Do you mean that? Truly mean that?" I ask, dreading his answer but pushing on so I could have a finality to this chapter.

"Yes." He said so matter-of-factly I felt my soul rip open. I nod and walk past him. There was nothing left, we were completely in shambles and there's no repairing it. I spare one last glance in his direction. I was met with the black of his blazer and slacks. He was facing completely away from me.

I don't think it's a coincidence we both wore black from head to toe this evening. We knew something would die here.

PART TWO

Masterlist

[dailyreverie]

The recruit

Intro to the Your Wish is my Command universe

A/N: Back at writing and it feels so good! I'm so excited about playing around this universe and having fun with these new dynamic. Although this is part of a series, this first part works more as an introduction and not as a "chapter 1" kind of thing. This is where we start to explore the way our beloved Poe and reader work. (Also, thanks to the Poe Wookiepedia page for being my #1 resource for this intro)

Pairing: Poe Dameron x fem. reader

Word count: 1.3k

CW: alcohol consumption, bar setting, kind of mature innuendos (just a very tiiiiny one)

SERIES MASTERLIST

The last conversation played on Poe's head repeatedly, echoing between his ears with no signs of showing when it would ever stop: “So we do nothing? That's the solution? An emerging threat, and we do nothing?” he had asked, and the answer, even though he expected it, felt like it punched him on the throat.

Nothing. Absolutely nothing the Republic Command could do against an emerging First Order menace, one he had seen with his own eyes and could do nothing about. Poe downed his drink at the memory of that, scared and nervous, and overall angry. “Another,” he signed to the bartender without even taking the time to consider that another drink would push him past that tipsy state he was in - or maybe knowing that’s exactly why he did it.

“Poe Dameron.” The sound of his name pulled his attention away from the glass and into the seat next to him, the one that was being pulled and occupied by someone he had no idea knew his name. He had his reputation, that he knew, but he didn’t assume he was that well-known. By the look on the woman’s face, as if she knew something he didn’t, with a smart smirk adorning her features, he could only assume…

“Yeah, hi, I’m not interested right now.”

You looked at him unamused as he turned his eyes back to his drink. “Wow- I’m flattered but that’s not the case at all.” The bartender reached you as you made yourself comfortable on the stool. “Whatever he’s having.” You requested with a smile signaling over to Poe.

“What do you want then?” He was there not to be bothered, to be consumed by his thoughts about war alone, the last thing he needed was some woman to approach him.

After a quick scan around your spot at the bar, you spoke. “I’m with the Resistance, I was sent here to find you.”

Poe turned to you with a little chuckle. “So the Resistance is sending eye-candy to recruit people? ‘Kay, thanks. I’ll consider it.” You could hear the sarcasm oozing out of his words. “What do you want? Money? I really can’t help you sweetheart-”

“Okay, I’m flattered, again, but you have to stop.” Poe sobered up in an instant after hearing your irony-filled voice, looking at your face that still held the same grin from before - you were amused at his drunken state, at how little he believed you were actually there for him. “General Organa heard about you, and so did all her advisors. They know about your work, about your skills, and your current position. We need that, and I think you know why better than anyone.”

You meant it, Poe realized then, with your unserious face and that spark behind your eyes; a spark he sometimes could see himself in the mirror too.

“If you people at the Resistance know everything about me that well, you probably know how my last mission went.” He was testing you, you could see it in the way he held your gaze. “My Commander Officer is probably a couple bars down the street if you want to ask him-”

“What for? So he can tell me how reckless and foolish you are? We know that.” Poe was, again, speechless. “We believe you know more about the First Order than the Republic says. We’ve seen people like you, Poe. There is something you can do to stop all this instead of drinking it away.” Your hand found his on top of the bar and your eyes were looking deep into his. The rush he felt running up and down his body felt like a bolt, like a wake-up call, and how you knew exactly what he was thinking didn’t even cross his mind. “We need your help.”

At his silence, you continued to talk. He followed your every movement as he processed what you were saying, about commanding his own squadron and making a difference in the galaxy. You stood up, pulled out your datapad, and typed something in it, all while his brain was still dazed.

“I sent you the coordinates. Think about it, and if you’re in, the only thing you have to do is get there and say you’re there for General Organa. The position is yours.” You sighed once all the information was said. “Any questions?”

“Will you be there?” He asked after a beat, making you smile shyly, and if he saw your neck turning pink he decided to ignore it.

“You have 72 hours.” Was your answer, which he took as a confirmation.

Poe licked his lips and nodded, starting to go through everything you said as you turned in your heel to head out of the noisy bar.

“And Poe,” You grabbed his shoulder reassuringly, trying to convince him in any way you could. “that so-called foolishness? We call it passion. And passion is something we desperately need.” A smile was shared between you, a silent understanding floating in the space between you two. “Think about it,” you repeated in a whisper, squeezing his shoulder and leaving him there, alone again, with your untouched and unpaid drink.

🚀🌟🚀🌟🚀🌟

As soon as General Organa reached you, speaking the words “We have an incoming ship” with a proud smile on her face, you knew exactly what she meant. You joined her on her walk to the tarmac, reaching her side at the entrance of the base that overlooked all ships.

“13 hours.” She stated, commenting on how quickly the response had been. “That was an excellent job, I knew you could recruit him.”

“Thank you. It wasn’t hard, I just needed to remind him of what’s important in this fight. Everything else he already knew.” The General looked at you, all pride and smiles on her face.

The ship landed with a huff of the engine powering down. You stood in silence watching as the top of the ship opened revealing a messy-haired Poe; watching as he climbed down the stairs and reached the floor a wave of nerves went through your body, which only increased as he began walking towards you. If he looked good with the bad lighting of the bar where you met him you knew seeing him in broad daylight would let you get a clear sight of his already handsome features - still, it was something you were not prepared for. Leather jacket and a half-opened collared shirt, he walked towards you carrying nothing but trouble for you, you didn’t need the Force to know that.

“Commander Dameron,” The General spoke when he was close enough. “I hope you like your new title.”

“General Organa.” Poe greeted, stretching his hand to her. “I do, and it is a pleasure to meet you. My parents told me nothing but great things about you.”

“The pleasure is all mine.”

When the handshake stopped Poe’s attention went to you, standing a couple of steps behind Leia and watching the greeting with a small smile. “That was fast.” You spoke first when your eyes locked, something in between a taunt and a tease.

“Well, I couldn’t let my recruiter down.” The confidence he had drank down the night before at the bar had risen up again; that was the Poe Dameron you had heard about, all cocky smiles and flirty words. Poe stared into you, a charming grin on his lips reaching his deep eyes.

“Ah, right. Poe, I believe you’ve met my daughter.” Leia said moving to the side, letting you take a step beside her. 

You introduced yourself then, reaching your hand out for him to shake as you, for once, told him your name - emphasizing your last name, of course. “I’m glad you decided to join us, Dameron.” You finished innocently.

The smile disappeared from Poe’s face gradually, and it took every power in you not to burst into laughter as he let out a shocked: “Huh?!”

🚀🌟🚀🌟🚀🌟🚀🌟🚀🌟🚀🌟🚀🌟

Thanks for reading! Please reblog and comment if you enjoyed it.

[blasphemous-lies-and-deceit]

Flufftober Day 6. Mistaken Identity

"Well, hello there."

Michael glanced up from his box of files to see the familiar sight of Gerry at the end of the row of shelves, leaning casually to the side with his arms crossed over his chest. "Hi," he greeted casually, attention still caught by his work. He expected Gerry to come right over for a kiss and an embrace, as he usually did, but instead Gerry stayed where he was, positively leering at him.

"You must be Gertrude's new Assistant, aren't you?" Gerry asked lasciviously, so overt and over the top that Michael immediately caught on to his act and had to fight down the urge to laugh. "I don't think I've seen you around here before."

"Um, yeah." Michael tried to pitch his tone higher, more uncertain, like he'd been when he first started working in the Archives, before he'd met Gerry. He brushed some of his loose hair behind his ear, peering at Gerry with wide and innocent eyes. "Nice to meet you, are you another of Gertrude's Assistants?"

Gerry shook his head, a roguish smirk on his face. "She didn't warn you about me?" He pulled away from the shelf he was leaning against and sauntered forward, his eyes trained on Michael. If he didn't know better, Michael would feel very intimidated and flustered by his approach‒ but he did know better, and what Michael was really feeling was delighted glee and anticipation as Gerry grew closer. "I'm one of her freelancers. The guy she calls in for the <i>really</i> bad stuff."

"Oh," Michael breathed shakily, allowing himself to be herded back until he was pressed to the shelf at the end of the row. Gerry was gazing up at him, shoulders broad and standing tall, his smile confident and bold, and Michael wondered how their relationship would have come about if this was how Gerry had initially approached him. "That's, that's impressive. You must be very skilled."

As usual, one of his compliments nearly broke Gerry, but in a different way than usual. Michael could see that Gerry was struggling not to break character, fighting to keep up the smooth and confident facade, and he fought to keep a straight face as well. "That's right," Gerry agreed, stepping into Michael's personal space and reaching out to caress the back on his hand, fingers brushing the mark he had given him. Shivers broke out over Michael's skin, a lovely tingling conjured both by his lover and the fantasy they were sharing. "I could teach you some of those skills," Gerry offered huskily, slipping his fingers around Michael's wrist. "This is a dangerous job. You need to keep yourself safe."

Michael swallowed heavily, a sudden emotion choking his throat. He knew Gerry's words were intended as a flirtatious come-on, but if it had been the reality of their first meeting, and Gerry had immediately offered to teach him about the Entities to keep him safe, he would have been forever in his debt. Gerry knew how important that information was to him, how he probably would have been tricked or led astray without knowing anything about what was happening to him. Even though they were only pretending, his boyfriend still wanted to make sure he knew, and that meant the world to him.

"Th-thank you," he choked out, swaying towards Gerry as if drawn in by his confident aura. "Thank you for your offer. I appreciate it." He bit his lip, wondering if what he was about to say would break Gerry entirely. "I'm sure there's so much you can show me." Gerry's lips were twitching with the effort of keeping his expression straight, and Michael decided to go in for the kill. "I would love to experience your…skills."

That did it. Gerry choked out a laugh, which made Michael giggle, which broke both of them completely, falling into each other as they laughed helplessly together. Michael carelessly dropped his files to grab onto Gerry's arms, holding him up as Gerry laughed hysterically, tears running down his face. "Damn it," he gasped, his grin so wide and genuine. "I was doing so good!"

"You were," Michael giggled, ducking down to press his lips to his cheek. "I was really into it!"

"But you made me crack up," Gerry chided, catching hold of his chin to angle him down for a kiss, sloppy and uncoordinated from their smiles. "Damn you."

"You'll just have to try again," Michael eagerly encouraged him. "I really would like to see those skills you were talking about." Gerry snorted inelegantly, no doubt imagining what that demonstration would entail. Grinning madly, Michael pulled him in for an embrace, kissing him all over his face, fast and quick as Gerry continued to laugh under his assault. As fun as it had been to briefly pretend, as sweet as it was for Gerry to want to look out for him however he could, he was more than happy with their actual reality.

[jojo-mlm]

hihi! Sorry to bother but could I request an Abbacchio x a quiet male reader? Like he doesnt talk very much and more so stares at Abbacchio and holds onto his arm and so on?

ah I just always go back and forth on these things! I'm sorry and I'm gonna try and start writing more again!

ᴀʙʙᴀᴄᴄʜɪᴏ x ꜱʜʏ ᴍᴀʟᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Abbacchio tries to help you speak up and get something for yourself.

"I don't think you understand." Abbacchio spoke to you, not annoyed with you but simply frustrated with the situation. "You have to give your own order. I'm not just going to do it for you."

You knew that he cared about you, he really did, but after a few weeks of dating he noticed that you didn't speak up much. It's not that you didn't have things to say, no, on the contrary! You thought of lots of things, and sometimes you made a note to yourself to bring them up later if you thought it was interesting. But noticing something interesting about your surroundings is different then making conversation. Or ordering food.

Naturally, you reached for his arm but he pulled it away. "I want you to try, alright? Look I just don't want you to depend on me for everything, and especially not talking to other people. It's a skill that you need to work on."

It didn't feel good... talking was hard! Not even particularly anxious, you'd rather stay to yourself instead of talk. That was one of the things you liked about your boyfriend. He could do the talking for you. He was commanding, he had that skill he insisted you work on. Abbacchio could get what he wanted and quickly. Sure, he wasn't your mouth piece but if he was ordering anyways he might take yours.

"Come on..." You tried to push it. "You know what I like, I just don't want to talk-" "I know what you don't want." He poked you on the center of your forehead teasingly. "I also know you'll go hungry tonight if you can't manage to speak to someone else."

You nodded in acknowledgement, but again reached for his arm. He sighed but let you take it this time, not minding that you were holding onto him a little tightly. He wasn't a big fan of PDA, but he didn't mind it at the moment. Besides, you were only in the back of a restaurant, still waiting for the two of you to find a solution. "I just don't know why you can't order for me..."

He let out a small huff. "Because. I don't want to keep doing this for you."

Making a face of discomfort at him seemed to change his mood a little. Abbacchio's expression softened. He leaned in, holding you a tad closer to his chest. "Try for me. If you feel like you can't, then I'll do it."

You brightened back up, smiling wide at him. He rolled his eyes. "Just don't get upset if I order something that you don't like for you if it comes to that!" "One more thing... can you come with me when I order?"

"Because you're scared?"

You shook your head no.

He raised a brow but then looked at you, still squeezing his arm. "Because you don't want to let go?" You nodded for a yes.

Abbaccio chuckled lightly and kissed your head. "Sure. Alright, let's go."

With that, the two of you stood up. You lead him to the front where there was a small line of people standing there waiting to order there own food. While the line was getting smaller, you felt yourself getting nervous. You knew you could do it, but the feelings came anyways. Eventually you got to the front.

Abbaccio wasn't going to bail you out, but you didn't feel alone when you felt his other hand around your arm in a comforting gesture. You took a slow breath, and waited as your boyfriend spoke first. He placed his order quickly and eventually the employee turned to you.

"Anything for you, sir?"

With a quick breath, and Abbaccio subtly holding you, you were able to place your own order. They wrote it down. "Alright, it should be out in a few minutes."

They handed you two a little stand with the number '17' on it. Abbaccio grabbed it and you both made your way to a nice table in the back where some privacy was granted. "See?" He told you, giving yet another supportive squeeze. "Wasn't world ending now was it?"

You gave a small smile and sat back at your table.

...

You were in the middle of your meal, Abbacchio doing most of the talking as usual, when a few familiar faces showed up. It was the rest of the gang, but particularly Narancia. He bounded to you in excited steps. "Abbacchio! You're eating here too!"

He nodded. "Yes. Eating here with my boyfriend, so I wouldn't mind if you talked to me later. It's a date."

"Aww, you want me to me with you on your date??" He laughed to himself, knowing it was a joke.

He turned to you, and for a moment you thought he wanted you to speak again. Instead, Abbaccio put a hand on your shoulder and gave a rare, small, but visible smile. You knew you didn't have to say anything if you didn't want to now.

"No thanks Narancia. Now, leave before something bad happens to that new radio of yours." He said, pulling you closer by wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

Narancia swallowed the lump in his throat, visibly nervous at the threat. Even if he was joking, he didn't want to take that chance. "N-Never mind, I just thought of something Fugo has to teach me! I'll catch you later!"

He hurried back quickly and you couldn't help but laugh yourself. Abbacchio kissed your forehead again and you two finished your meal together. It was probably just your imagination, but it tasted better than usual.

[wyyvernn]

A/n: more Haytham brainrot and somewhat of a possible part 2 to this oneshot. I say that loosely because it implies that it's set after the first one.

Summary: You and the Grand Master seem to have a lot in common - one example is getting stranded out in the snow with no means of transport back to an inn, only this time Haytham has taken a pretty bad injury to his side.

The both of you never made it back in time. The others were probably worried, wondering where the two of you had gotten lost.

Little did they know of how much of a predicament you were in.

A pained grunt falls from Haytham's lips as he clutches his side. It's a bullet wound but he appears lucky enough for it to barely graze any of his vital organs. Still, you swing his arm around your shoulders, ushering his body to lean against yours.

"Come, sir. Lean into me," you urge, sliding your arm around to his uninjured side. His breathing is deep and heavy, every inhale worsening the pain of the wound.

"You know," Haytham starts as you both trudge through the thick blankets of snow, his face contorting into discomfort. "I really thought that you might have left me behind to the assassins."

"What...? Well, why in the hell would you think that?" You pant slightly as you heave him across the field.

There's something about your confusion that tickles amusement out of Haytham. Perhaps he thought that the bickering the two of you shared was a mask to hide your secret hatred for him - that you would leave him for dead so you could spin a story to the others of his tragedy and make it out like you were trying to save him.

He wasn't sure why he thought that, though. Maybe it was the way you were so blunt and showed a sort of irritation towards him. You laughed along with Shay, drank rounds and rounds of ale and hollered with the others. But for the Grand Master, it felt like the two of you were strangers. Or perhaps enemies?

He couldn't tell.

"I had," He stops, takes a moment to breathe and then continues, "I had a sneaking suspicion that you hated me."

You could only snort in reply as you kept him on his feet.

"Because I call you names? Treat you like shit instead of my boss?"

You pretty much nearly stumble and view him with surprise as he mutters a quiet 'yes'. Never would you have thought that your Grand Master would be bothered by the way you treat him. It was just playful banter on your part but guilt begins to form in your gut after hearing him admit it. Suddenly your eyes and grip soften, you hold him like a fragile doll.

A cave comes into view - a good distraction and place to rest, you think inwardly and rush towards it.

You gently set him down inside and get a fire going.

"I had no idea." You say after awhile, stoking the flames. When the warmth starts to lick at your feet and highlight your face, you move to where Haytham is and urge his cape, coat and shirt off to check his wound. He hisses as you graze it, smearing the blood on your fingertips. "Sorry."

You reach into your pocket, pulling out some supplies that aren't ideal to use but you work with what you have.

"I didn't think it would bother you so much, considering I'm just playing around most of the time...but to be clear, I don't hate you."

His teeth grit together, nails digging into his palms by his sides as you dab around the wound.

"Well, what a relief, although to say that it bothered me would be quite dramatic."

Rolling your eyes, you start stitching the skin back together. He groans softly when you finish, dabbing away more of the blood before throwing his shirt at his bare chest. It's choppy work you've done but it will have to do for now.

"That should do. Don't come at me for my shit sewing skills 'cause that's as good as it's gonna get."

Haytham chuckles quietly, a low and pleasant hum in his throat - a light heat creeps onto your cheeks at the sound.

"So if you don't hate me, what is it that you think of me?"

The question throws you off so much so that you actually reel your head back to look at him. It's suffocating, the way he watches you curiously, how his gaze of grey inspects your softening features. Suddenly you feel confronted.

"I...I don't know."

You turn to stoke the flames of the burning fire some more and tuck your knees to your chest, purposely avoiding his eyes. You don't like how you feel small and open beneath him, but you can't help but feel warm by his sudden interest.

"I think you do know."

Tender fingers turn your face towards him by your chin. The rough pad of his thumb stroking beneath your lip feels divine and you crave more. His mouth on yours, your grip tight and desperate on his shoulders as he holds you to him, the both of you drowning in each other's embrace...

Your thoughts have never gone so wild and out of control like this before but he's so good at stirring around your desires that you lean into him a little.

"I think you may even feel something for me. Something..." his lips are by your ear in an instant, fingers slowly tucking your hair behind as his throat produces the deepest purr, "Intimate."

You shiver, unsure of what to do but as you open your mouth to form a reply, his face appears so close to yours, warm breath hitting your skin. Watching, waiting, asking for a sign from you that will allow him to continue.

Your answer is direct - leaning forward to kiss him as your palm finds his cheek and then gradually lowers to skate along his nape, encouraging him closer. He smells the perfume on your wrists, the sickly sweet scent you dabbed on in the morning, now faint and fading yet still so stimulating and powerful. Powerful enough anyway to gather you into his lap, his arms wrapping around your waist while you find yours winding around his neck instinctively.

You don't know if he forgot about his injury or if he's simply enjoying the kiss but he groans lowly into your mouth, delighting in the way you hold onto him and let loose a whimper of your own.

As the two of you withdraw, your eyes linger on his swollen lips, red and parted and his dilated pupils. He's the vision of perfection, shadows casted by the flames dance on his sharp features and illuminate his irises and cheekbones. There's so much to think about in this moment but all you can find yourself doing is gently resting your head on his shoulder.

It will be awhile yet until you reach civilisation so you might as well take your time.