#kid!zigzag

[thebluestbluewords]

Dis-like-Dysentery

I have a lot of very specific headcanons about Auradon Prep, and one of them is the fact that Jay is both a Smart Guy, and also chronically incapable of turning in assignments on time. For. Reasons.

this might be about one of those reasons.

+

Carlos looks up from his plate as Jay wanders over. “Dude, where were you? We started eating without you.” 

“Talking to a teacher. I submitted an assignment wrong, or something.” 

Carlos nods. He’s got a fork dangling from one hand, and there’s a leaf stuck in his hair. Sunlit from behind, Jay’s pretty sure that he’s the prettiest boy on this side of the barrier. “Oh, man. Was it Demorra? She’s super strict about the rules, especially for the online stuff. I could’ve helped you figure it out bro, you don’t have to get through her bureaucratic shit on your own.” 

Jay sets his tray down on the opposite side of the table. “Nah. It was Williams.” 

Carlos frowns. “The international lit teacher? Really?” 

They’ve been reading through Jay’s lit assignments together. Auradon expects them to type up all of their homework, so he’s been getting by with the hacked dictation program on his laptop and locking himself in the bathroom to read his essays out loud into the program with the minimum of background noise. 

There’s a peer writing tutor who does proofreading two nights a week for free, but Jay’s not gonna take his shitty essays in to her when he’s pretty sure he’ll just get laughed right back out of the student study room for the giant default font Carlos set on his computer. 

It doesn’t exactly make reading his own assignments easier, but it doesn’t make it worse either, so they’re calling it functional for now. Auradon Prep is all about “helping students embrace their unique academic talents”, so Carlos and Evie are both being pulled for more advanced classes, which is great for them, and terrible for Jay’s essays because it’s seriously starting to cut into their free time. 

That, and the trouble they’ve been getting up to after hours. 

The assistant gym teacher still hasn’t figured out who to blame for French braiding all the climbing ropes together. 

“She couldn’t read my handwriting.” 

“Fuck.” 

That’s about the shape of it. Handwritten assignments are few and far between, but Jay can’t bullshit his way through all of them. “Haha, yeah.” 

Carlos thunks his head down onto the table. “Ugh. Fuck. I can make you a handwriting font on the computer, but that’ll make in-class assignments worse if you can’t keep it up.” 

“Yup.” 

He sits up. There’s a dent on his forehead from pressing it into the table. “Eat.” 

“Not hungry,” Jay says as cheerfully as he can manage. It’s not gonna fool Carlos, but he’s not gonna show weakness in front of the royal rabble. “Anyway, we’re not going to the honor board. She’s willing to settle it with some sorta evaluation. Have you heard of dyslexia before?” 

Carlos blinks. “Dyslexia? No. I mean. It’s gotta be dis from like, disinterested, disintegrating, some sort of anti? Or else it’s dys from like, dysentery. Some sort of illness, maybe. Lex has gotta be from lexicon, lexicography. Something to do with either anti-words or a words illness? Does she think you’re sick of words?” 

Jay shrugs. “She said it’s why I’m bad at reading. Wants me to do an assessment so she can know what’s going on.” 

Carlos already has his phone out. He’s typing with one hand, the other one curled around his plate in a defensive hunch that’s almost casual. “Huh. How’s that going for her so far?” 

Jay snorts. “Fab. Nah, she didn’t do it yet. It’s a whole special test that she’s gotta send me down to the psych for.” 

“Can you reject it?” 

“If I wanna meet with the honor board and explain why I apparently have great handwriting, but only when they can’t see me do the assignments.” 

“Fuck.” 

“Yeah. At least she was cool about it.” 

Carlos groans. “Your handwriting sucks, dude. You’re not sick of writing, you’re just— your handwriting sucks.” 

“Yeah, and my fucking reading comprehension. I—“ Jay cuts himself off abruptly as the shadow of more people falls across their lunch table. “Hey, guys.” 

Mal sets her lunch tray down on Jay’s left side, leaving Ben the spot on his right. Evie’s not eating with them today. They have other friends in theory, but between Doug’s science club buddies and Carlos’s general disinterest in socializing with other humans, they didn’t bother picking a table large enough for anyone else.  

“Sorry,” Ben apologizes, even as he’s nudging his shoulder against Jay’s. It’s nice not being the only tall one sometimes. “I couldn’t help overhearing.” 

Jay leans back into the contact. “We were talking out loud, dude. It happens. You got any hot tips for the stupid assessment I’ve gotta do later?” 

“Have you tried being better?” Mal suggests. “I find that cheating works great. I could find you a spell to let one of us borrow your hands for a few hours, and so long as you can tell us what you want to write, we can control the muscles and get better handwriting than your usual chicken scratch special.” 

“Hey.”

“Would that work if you can’t see the paper?” Ben asks curiously. 

Mal frowns. “No. Not unless I modify the spell to possess your eyes too.” 

Jay represses a shudder. “Thanks, but no thanks, M. I like my eyes in one piece.” 

Carlos is scrolling rapidly on his phone, hanging half-over the table in an attempt to get closer to the three of them. “Dude, dyslexia is a brain thing that affects how you process visual input of words— aw, shit.” 

Bad. That’s the bad-news tone. Jay’s heart drops traitorously into his stomach, which suddenly isn’t feeling the tater tots on his lunch tray. “What?” 

Carlos shakes his head. “Nothing too bad. Just, I think Williams is right. You’ve said you’re shit at reading fast cause the words all look the same, right? Like, you can’t scan to identify them, you’ve gotta sound each one out.” 

Jay smashes a tater tot with the side of his fork. The destruction doesn’t make his gut feel any better. It’s not that he’s mad, it’s just— he doesn’t want to do this. Analyzing his brain sucks. He did the whole week of required therapy that the student disciplinary council required after the stuff with Mal’s mom, and he’s so fucking done with Auradon grown-ups pretending to understand why his head’s fucked up. “Yeah, so?” 

Carlos waves the phone at him. “So that’s what this is. You’ve got a brain disorder.” 

“We can fix it, right?” 

He wiggles a hand back and forth. “Ehh. Kinda. There’s techniques to make it easier, but it’s sorta like— your brain is wired for AC power input, and words are DC. It’s a misalignment. We can make an adaptor, but we can’t rip out your brain wiring.” 

“I could,” Mal offers. “I love doing illegal magic.”

[wherevenusholdssomeofficespace]

Something that's been sort of bothering me is why exactly does HIromi look so annoyed here.

It just seems out of character. Especially since otherwise in that scene she was her cheerful friendly self and her expression changed after Joe stopped looking at her.

Was there a miscommunication to the animators. I mean it really wouldn't surprise me. But still changing expressions seems pretty deliberate.

So even she has her limits to others stupidity I guess.

Also Hiromi's hair was still purple: So either she dyed it as a kid, or its naturally purple (which Ferb's is naturally green so I suppose it's possible but her eyebrows are still black so who knows).

[tittyinfinity]

Sometimes I forget about the time I was almost killed by a sniper because of a fight between two other people

[zombiesama]

ksdjfsdkj??

[flamingpudding]

Little Snippets #4

Danny knew he had screwed up and that he was going to be in so much trouble as he flew hurriedly through the streets of Gotham.

"Old man is going to be so pissed...." he muttered as he zigzagged through the buildings. He had just gotten back from a side mission with Clockwork when he learned that one of their villains had gotten their hands on portal technology. Not his parents mind you, no one could read their chicken scratch besides Danny or Jazz. No but Vlad's, who was supposed to be a redeemed man but apparently some of his inventions still managed to get onto the black market.

Danny hat been in the Ghost Zone when they had that found out and the old man pinged him to get back sooner. And oh boy was Danny in for a portal mess when he got back to Gotham. He instantly went out to help the old man. Batman was out on his own and Danny had been trying to give him support when he got tangled up and ended up thrown through a portal.

Yeah, he knew his the old man would give him a good lecture, like the day he had gotten taken under the other mans wing. So now after Danny finally made his way back to Gotham he flew through the streets in search of the old man, it looked like the portal problem had resolved while he was trying to find his way back but still Danny had a weird feeling about Gotham now.

"OLD MAN!" He yelled as he spied Batman on top of a building. Grinning brightly he came to an stop directly in front of the other waving happily. "Sorry it took so long but I am back and in one piece! No injuries! See!"

Danny grinned brightly despite not getting an instant answer or lecture back. Though he paused when he noticed the kid in colourful clothing and others like one with a red face covering helmet, one themed in blue and one in black and red. "Did you get help from others? And I thought you didn't like kid playing hero?"

He tilted his head confused as he studied Batman before his eyes widened. "Hey, since when is your insignia not red...?"

It was in that moment that Danny realized he messed up big time somehow and slipped up as he uttered his next words. "You're not old man Thomas...?"

[thursdaynights]

Gator casts warning call

Me, starstruck, breathless:✨woooooooooow✨

[goaskangel]

dad's bestfriend!nanami x reader

a/n...had really good ideas 4 this and it kinda WORKED OUT??? i fu want more lmk!! im a sucker for older dudes (and ONLy them) nanami will save us all EEK. also i see hiromi as y/n's father, that's what i had in mind writing this!!! THIS HAS SLIGHT CORRUPTION STUFF, LIL GUILT STUFF, LOTS OF KISSIINGGG

you usually paid no mind to the people your father brought over. mostly colleagues or just a few friends to drink and converse with in your shared apartment. one friend he’d seem to bring over a lot had caught your eye. as if his ever-changing ties and snug khakis weren’t enough to make you grin, his mannerism was much too attractive. greeting you respectfully, listening and chuckling to your rare comments and jokes to their discussion over drinks in the kitchen. getting comfortable to just speak to you while your dad’s out or busy with something, always listening with intent. 

it’s so sexy, you think, your hands up to your face as you lay to your side in bed. dreaming conscious thoughts of what his big hands would feel like on you, or the same breath he smokes out against your neck. your guilt no longer dragging you down after all this time. 

once, you sit close to him, smiling and trying to make your staring of his ringless finger unnoticeable. he wonders, aloud, how don’t you have a boyfriend? you shrug, “jus’ not very interested.” you smile when he chuckles, most likely at your thought process. part of you hopes he doesn’t ask what you're looking for because you’d go straight to overworked suited-men. skip over the blonde and big traits just to seem more vague. of course you were interested, you were interested the moment he mentioned he had no family. no wife, no kids. just focused on his work and drinks, a few cigars and baked goods. the absence of your father to run a quick errand wasn’t helping, your eyes zigzagged down his undone tie and exposed blue button-up, his blazer down beside him. you’d thought about taking the garment or increasing the loft’s heater just to see him get all worked up and hot but being this close to him gave you the same thrill. the topic of marriage came up.

“you shouldn’t wait too long, i waited too long.” he says with sincerity. 

“hehe. with all truth, mister, i think you’re doing it on purpose. you are handsome.”

he sits up at the title, a confused smile at his face, “yeah? i could say the same thing about you, pretty.”

god, if you were any worse, the first time he’d use that petname you would’ve pounced on him sooner. “dad says guys my age are after one thing and i agree. you wouldn’t disagree with my dad, would you?” your head tilts and waits for a response to your bratty remark. “well, i suppose your father knows a thing or two.” he nods, crossing his arms. your eyes trail again, watching the toned muscle flex casually against his rolled sleeve. you swallow the pool of spit in your mouth. 

“he’s strict, though. haven’t you noticed?” you get up from your seat and walk to pour yourself another glass of water, “doesn’t ever let me have anybody over.” 

“uh-huh.” his brown eyes stare at you intently to understand your point. 

“it gets lonely, mister.” instead of sitting back down, you stand right in front of him. placing your glass on the glass table. his arms now rest out on the table as he traces delicate circles on the rim of his half empty cup of whiskey. “i obviously can’t tell my dad that so i’m telling you and i just know you’d understand.” your hand rests atop his and slowly curls under his big palm.

he clears his throat of the sudden nervousness, “well, yes. i know that feeling all too well.” you hum a response when he turns his body to face you better. you mumble gently, “my dad won’t be home.” your hand squeezes him tighter. you notice how his brows furrow just the slightest bit as he lowers his head down, letting out a small sigh. but he doesn’t oppose it. doesn’t move when you lead his hand down to your hip, the tips of his fingers riding up your shirt. so pliable, his other resting hand now being guided up, up, up your shirt. his warm palm against your much softer skin. “won’t tell anyone, nanami.” 

his breathing is shaky and his eyes seem to have gotten heavier, but he scoots almost off the seat, to get closer. his vision glued onto the bump of where his hand is underneath your shirt, beneath the wire of your bra. 

“i’ll let you do anything you want to me.” fucking hell, you made this so fucking hard. 

“you’re damn irresistible.” he slurs through his teeth, swearing to himself that his mouth dried when you gripped his hand to squeeze the fat beneath your breasts. you feel dizzy, so good that he’s not resisting, that he can’t resist. he kneads and gropes the side of your hips and thighs, getting closer to your ass. impatiently, he stands and manhandles you closer to his bigger frame. you hear how his breathing’s stabilized but heavier, his expensive cologne finally hitting you when you lean up against his neck. he damn near groans when he gets his hands on you properly. dragging his hands on your back, pushing your body right against his much warmer one. your knees grow weak, if his grasp was any looser, you could’ve collapsed right on him. you take your arms and wrap them firmly against his broad shoulders and thick neck, moaning quietly against the veins under his ear. he feels his khakis getting tighter with every breath you take. a smile grows against your cheeks when you feel the slight stubble at his jaw, you kiss at it. 

still moaning between kitten licks against his mature skin, he turns to press his lips to yours. quick little pecks between breaths, he savors each one and quickly returns for more. the sour taste of his bitter whiskey intoxicating you from his much sweeter mouth.

“been..wanting..this..nana–mi..!” you can’t contain your grown obsession to which he shushes you. nodding slowly against your mouth while he keeps your head in place. when you pull away, you take his hands and lead him into your open bedroom. the idea of your father coming home slowly fading the closer you got what you wanted. you got so eager when he sat you on the edge of your bed, standing between your hanging legs. your hands wanting to hold onto his belt, to slowly unbuckle it but he caught them beforehand, kissing and sucking on your soft wrists and forearms. his lips find their way to your neck and ear where he whispers. 

“it's wrong, i know. so, so wrong, but my god…” he holds onto your neck and carefully grinds himself into your clothed cunt, making you arch your back and buck your hips into him, whining. you could cry from all the teasing he’s doing. “shouldn’t be doing this, sweetheart…dad can’t know, okay?” he keeps his now firm bulge against you. you moan another cry and kiss him again a bunch, nodding, rubbing tongues and messing up the gel in his blonde hair. the very open door reveals the sound of clinking keys and chains, doors opening and closing. too dizzy and much too dazed to even frown, you just stare into his soft brown eyes. they get farther away as he gently lets you go, kissing your temple for good measure before heading to the bathroom, leaving you with shaking legs. hopefully his plans of staying over stays the case.

masterlist

[starlightervarda]

I can't sleep so Star Trek TOS/SNW dashboard simulator

🪆 chekovsgunman Follow

to this day I can't understand why they're called the Three Musketeers if there's FOUR of them? Did Dumas just forget his own main character???

🪴 plantdad Follow

You've got to be kidding me

🪆 chekovsgunman Follow

I know right? A mistake like this would never happen in Russian literature!

5,324 notes

🩺 therealmccoy Follow

After months of taking care of everyone else on this giant tin can I really earned this shore leave. Now I get to drink, relax, flirt with some lovely ladies and sleep until noon 😎 Just what the the doctor ordered!

🩺 therealmccoy Follow

Update: A fucking purple tree ate five crewmen. Again.

955 notes

🖖 iamspock Follow

Despite being among humans for close to a decade, I still find their tendency to overcomplicate and avoid aspects of social situations to be confusing at best and infuriating at worst. So much time is wasted on tedious matters such as who gets to 'make the first move' or 'not come off too strong'.

For example, everyone aboard my vessel is keenly aware of Lt. Uhura and Engineer Scott's 'budding romance'. But their need to extend their oddly avoidant courtship ritual, rather than outright state their interest in one another, is pointless, as well as frustrating to witness.

Why do they do this? Why not 'get it over with', as they say?

I encourage answers from all cultures, human or otherwise.

💅 janicethemenace Follow

I'm sorry Scotty and Nyota are WHAT

💉 xtinechapel Follow

DELETE THIS

💖 ofmanytongues Follow

SPOCK NOOO HE DOESN'T THINK OF ME LIKE THAT 😭

🔧 scott-free Follow

But I do! I thought you knew and were just being nice about it!

💖 ofmanytongues Follow

DMing you rn 😳

🖖 iamspock Follow

You're welcome.

24,103 notes

🌟 j_tiberius_k Follow

PSA: If you visit Antares VII, stay clear of any yellow plants, their pollen can have some...inconvenient effects on the biology of humanoid peoples.

My XO and I suffered through troubling symptoms until it was almost too late. Thankfully, we figured out a cure in time.

🪴 plantdad Follow

I can only find info on the symptoms. What was the cure? 👀

🌟 j_tiberius_k Follow

Do I really have to say it?

6,322 notes

💊 mmmbenga Follow

The galaxy if Klingons didn't exist

⚔️ glorytotheempire Follow

Wow. Humans are openly advocating for our disappearance yet Klingons are the bad guys? I thought your federation stood for peace.

💊 mmmbenga Follow

Cry harder you genocidal wrinkly-faced bitch I hope your planet gets sucked into a black hole

#If you think a joke is on par with what they do then book an MRI because you might have brain damage #fuck Klingons and anyone that sympathizes with them

35,007 notes

😎 ortegaaaas Follow

So I can either skim through this asteroid belt on Warp 2 for 3 hrs or on Warp 5 for 15 mins

🚀 mitchiemitch Follow

Erica no! That's not how navigation works!

😎 ortegaaaas Follow

FLOOR IT???

🚀 mitchiemitch Follow

ERICA NO

😎 ortegaaaas Follow

HOW ABOUT WARP 7 FOR 15 SECONDS?

💖 ofmanytongues Follow

ERICA YOU'RE GOING TO CRASH THE SHIP

😎 ortegaaaas Follow

I AM GOING TO HARNESS LIGHT-SPEED TO ZIGZAG THROUGH THE VOID

🚀 mitchiemitch

ERICA P L E A S E

112,517 notes

🐴 sirsilverfox Follow

I know some species are very private, but you'd think they'd share the important stuff, esp when we should trust each other by now.

How are we supposed to enjoy my weekly dinners if you all don't tell me what to watch out for :/ This is the third time this happens to the same person and I had to get the answer why from our CMO

💫 numerouna Follow

Wait what did I miss while I was gone

🐴 sirsilverfox Follow

Spock got wasted on my chocolate fudge cake and hit his head on the counter ://///

2,904 notes

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

A Man Called Danger 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You avoid drama, you avoid confrontation, and overall, you avoid men. But some men can't be denied. ~ short!late 30s reader

Characters: biker!Bucky Barnes

Note: I saw a photoshoot and lost my mind.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You sigh and set the phone down, tilting your head back as you close your eyes. Exasperation, frustration, helplessness.

This is why you never had kids of your own. Your own teenage years were tough enough. Well, life has continued to shout that lesson in your face; things don’t always turn out how you expect. Or how you want. 

Let her make her mistakes, you tell yourself. No, no, you can be passive in your own life but you took on this responsibility. You can’t just wait and see how it turns out. Not like your mother did. She only got lucky you didn’t end up on a corner or like her. 

You take a deep breath and run your hands over your face. Your mother taught you many lessons without meaning too. Men, kids, all that domestic stuff is just a trap. You’re better off without having to figure out the mistakes of others.

That’s why you did this right? Because you want your sister to learn the same thing, to avoid the consequences of youth and short-sightedness. To escape that family curse that keeps you so cautious. 

You grab your jacket from the front door. She’s nineteen. Nineteen. An adult. You’re not her mother. No, but you won’t let it happen. Not to her. Not to that baby you spent your nights bottle-feeding as your mother spent her stipend at the bar or drove around with Robbie from down the street. 

It’s underhanded. Not what you should do. Not respectful at all but after the last time, you couldn’t let it go. You open the app on your phone. The dot that is your sister’s phone pings in the map. You zoom in and squint as you stand on the doormat. Really? 

You lock the front door and come down the front steps. The deep blue evening is starless as only the yellow street lights offer clarity. Oh, everything is clear. The apple is not falling very far. 

You drop your phone in the cup holder and turn the engine. The grumpy old Honda chugs to life and the stick cranks loudly as you put it in reverse. You don’t have much but you have the one thing you always craved; stability. You manage with what you have. 

You ease your foot off the pedal as you catch yourself speeding down the forty zone. You idle at the sign before turning onto the next street. You make a zigzag onto the main road. Your nape itches with impatience. How the hell did she get all the way out there, anyway? 

You grip the wheel and snarl at the windshield. You’re not a mother. You don’t have a maternal bone in your body. You were raised to be wary. By the time your sister came around, your mother wasn’t present enough to make much of an effort or impact. You suppose neglect can be just as lingering as resent. 

You keep one hand on the wheel as you chew your thumb. For all your attempts to avoid this fate, you find yourself where you didn’t want to be. Maybe not technically or even legally, but you’re stuck cleaning up this mess. 

You pull up to the bar at last. Take a breath. You are not an angry person. Not like your father. Yes, the surge comes from time to time but you control it. You repress it until it’s only a flicker in your stomach. 

You get out and lock your phone. You pocket your keys as you approach the door. Nearly wenty years since you’ve been in a bar, never of your own volition. You stare up at the marque. 

You were the same age as your sister then. The place was glowing and hazy. You entered to the clink of bottle and the buzz of the old juke box. Darts pounded into the bullseye and cues clacked on solids and stripes. Your mother was there hanging off a greasy man in flannel. She was too drunk to answer your question as you held her child on your hip. 

“Mom, where’s the money?” 

It fades away with the voice from your left. The man stands with arms crossed, “ma’am, you can go in. I don’t needa see ID.” 

You shake your head and make yourself enter. Your reluctance slows you along with the overwhelming wall of noise. Voices all around, music, glass meeting each other and tabletops, laughter, coughing, and snarling. The dim is lit only by the bulbs beneath the black shades, hanging from the ceiling. You squint to see through the glazed din. 

This isn’t your place. This is never what you would do for fun. Drinking, talking to strange men, spending what free time you have rotting away in this pit. 

You hear a familiar octave. Eva trills with laughter. Not that sardonic snort she gives you when you try to offer her some sense, no, that tinkling noise she uses when she wants something. It’s not a surprise, there aren’t too many reasons for a girl her age to be here. 

You find her along the bar. She sits sideways on a stool, one leg draped over the other. She’s everything you’re not old. Young, slim, and tall. You never grew much after eighth grade and you can’t do anything to stop time from its work. 

You cross the bar as the man next to her chortles and winks at her. His hand is on her stool, just by her hip. He looks about your age. You grit your teeth. 

You’re not brave or bold. You learned to survive by staying out of the way but you can’t just walk away from this. You know what older men want from women half their age. 

You clear your throat as you come up next to them. Eva ignores you as the man sends you a sneer, “can I help you?” 

You cross your arms. You’re not good at confrontation. Not with strangers and definitely not with men. 

“Eva,” you focus on your sister, “I’ve been waiting for you--” 

“Don’t pay attention to her,” she flutters her fingers. 

“Eva. You said you’d be home at eight--” 

“Ugh, you’re not my mother, okay? We both know where she is so just go away,” she snarls. She’s drunk. When she’s a few deep, she gets mean. 

“She’s grown,” the man insists. 

“She’s my sister, I’m talking to her,” you turn so your back is to him and you’re almost between them. “Eva, I got that job lined up for you--” 

“She said fuck off,” the man growls. You tune him out. 

“It’s good. You can take the year to build the reference then apply to the community college--” 

“You’re embarrassing me,” she hisses. 

“Would you get out of here?” The man pushes you so hard you stumble. You hit a table and gasp as the edge jams against your ribs. The people sat their grumble at you for spilling their drinks. 

“Johnny!” Eva cries out. “What the hell are you doing?” 

“You told her to get off,” he sneers. 

“Yeah, but you can’t just do that,” she whines. 

You steady yourself and apologise to the patrons at the table. You hug your middle and swallow down the pain. You swore you would never be pushed around by another man. 

You turn and march up to the creep. “You feel big picking on women? Huh? You feel like a man going after teenagers? Cause a woman your own age wouldn’t put up with you?” 

Eva tugs on your arm and says your name, “please, don’t. What are you doing?” 

“Do it again,” you goad. The words come out naturally.

You’re shocked by yourself but your reticence is dulled by that hereditary spark. That flame you’ve been tamping out for decades. Not like him. You are not him. 

“Pfft, don’t be a bitch. You already cockblocked me.” 

“No, you want to pick on me, pick on me.” You spit. 

“What’s wrong with you? Why are you here?” Eva snivels. 

‘Why are you here?’ Your mother drunkenly slurs. ‘I’m just having some funnnnnn.’ 

You stare at her. Eva wriggles and cries on your hip. You hush her, trying to comfort her. She’s hungry. You don’t have anything left in the can. 

‘Mom, that money was for her. Mom, where is it? Give it back.’ 

She chuckles and caresses the head of the man she sits on, “go talk to Chuck at the bar, he might give you a refund.’ 

Your name draws you out of the past. Eva shakes you as you snarl at the man. Your hands ball to fists. 

“There a problem?” A gravelly timbre undercuts your rage. 

Eva babbles again. 

“Walker,” footsteps stomp closer and Eva pulls you out of the way. 

You watch as a dark-haired man pulls the blond from atop the stool. He has him by the scruff, “what’d I tell you about fighting?” He glances at you then the foamy spill leaking onto the floor from the table as a server tries to sop it up. “You hitting women in my joint?” 

You quake with anger. This man thinks he’s a saviour. You don’t need him to defend you. In here, they’re all the same. 

“You better not come back,” the brunette growls and hurls the blond onto the floor. “This is the last time I’m tossing your ass out.” 

You watch the man’s shoulders strain the leather of his jacket. He’s broad, taller than you, like most, and about your age. He faces you. His hair is pushed back, the tails winging out behind his nape, his beard is thick and laced with silver, and he wears a golden medallion around his neck. His blue eyes scour you and Eva. 

“You alright?” He asks with a stitch in his forehead. 

“Just fine. Leaving,” you say as you twist your hand around to grab Eva’s arm instead. 

“I don’t put up with that in here. I saw that man up on your daughter and I shoulda stopped it earlier,” he intones. 

You scoff. 

“Look, you can have a drink on the house--” 

“I don’t drink,” you show your palm. “Excuse me.” 

You step around him and drag your sister with him. Under the ripple of anger, is fear. These men are dangerous. You forgot that at some point. Don’t ever forget that. You just wish Eva could see the same. 

You take her to the car as she stumbles in her heels. You open the passenger door and let her go. She gets in and you resist the urge to comment on her outfit. She can wear short skirts and crop tops, she’s an adult, but it’s too cold to not have a sweater. 

You go around and get in the driver seat. You sit there and stare at the wheel. You close your eyes and inhale. 

“I’m sorry. Are you okay?” 

“Eva,” you snip and open your eyes. You brace the wheel as you look at her. “You saw what that man did. I’m a woman with no value to him, so when he loses interest, what do you think happens to you?” 

She mopes and looks at her lap. She twirls her thumbs round each other and sniffles. “I was only having fun.” 

“You can’t find someone your own age? Or maybe a hobby. Try the library,” you run your hands over your forehead. “I don’t want to be like this. I don’t want to act like your mother, I want to be your sister. I want you to do better.” You slap your hands down on your legs. “You can make your decisions however you like but I just want you to think before you do.” 

“I’m sorry--” 

“You’re sorry. Again. You keep doing it,” you relent and slacken against the seat. “You’re not a kid. We both have to accept that.” 

You jam the keys in the ignition and turn. You sit up and peer around the lot. Your eyes snag on the figure standing in the glare of the marquee. That man in leather with the medallion. He watches calmly. 

You lean on the gas and steer around the lot. As you come closer to the bar, he waves with two fingers and winks. You frown and put your attention ahead of you. You just want to go home and go to bed. 

[donutz]

What aboutttttt............ Sebastian with his daughter/son/kid? Maybe before he got experimented on he had a child but couldn't see them anymore once he got fished, and recognizes them while they're a prisoner? I'll leave age/gender up to you

Not forcing!! Thank youu

Sebastian Solace reuniting with his kid

Meeting up with your father once again...

— Omg dad time!!!😂😂

Warnings: Father issues; PLATONIC!!!!; Negative thoughts, please DO NOT take them to heart, I don't mean any of that towards you, you're an amazing person ^^; Implied depression; Thoughts of su!c!de; Angsty but not so much; Reader can't get hurt by the monsters; No mention of age or gender, but Reader is over 21; Short :P(569 words); Cliffhanger!!

Staring at the blank and reflecting submarine ground, you see yourself. Well is it really yourself? With all that gear it could be anybody else.  They sent you to that prison because of what you’ve done.

Or did you really even do it?

No of course you didn’t.

They just think what your father did passes down to you.

Framing innocent people, killing them.

Disgusting.

To cover up your ‘mistake’ you signed up for this. They would’ve killed you like every other person, you’re not special(This is a lie, you’re amazing).

You arrive at the Hadal Blacksite, the large door opening. Revealing a large working site.

Stepping out, you hear a man’s voice through the speakers above. You look up. Nothing. Are they really even above you? Maybe they’re in the walls.

Are they watching you?

Can they hear you?

Can he hear you?

Does he know where you are?

Where is he?

Where are they?

Oh yeah, look upon the task ahead of course.

‘Ugh, this anxious stuff going on really hurts’.

‘Maybe I shouldn’t have signed this. Just so I could die’.

‘Being with dad sounds nice’.

You slide the keycard through the door. Door 001. You’re somewhat ready for what lies ahead. Any monsters, I mean you’re meters below the sea levels! Who knows what’s down here!

Door 020

You walked into a room, with a large window. Darkened, not really seeing much. Then a bright green light illuminates the room to your left.

Stupidly, you look at the source of light, seeing multiple green eyes with stars in them. Though they don’t affect you, at all. 

It’s.. Confused. Why won’t it affect you?

Oh. You’re his.

Nevermind then.

The shark swims away, leaving you in the dark. Again. It comes back a few times, but only to just see you.

Still, her eyes don’t affect you.

30 doors later, a vent grille quickly shoots to the other side of the room. Your tired eyes showing no fear or shock. Looking at the vent, you wait for something or someone.

“Need to stock up”?

.

.

.

What.

Now your eyes show some type of emotion.

They shrink, crinkles showing at the edge of your eyes, straightening your lips with a look of confusion on your face.

“Da—”

Your voice blanks out, your own vocal cords cutting itself off. Not from belief, you just haven’t talked for a bit. Your lips are dry, and your throat feels like a desert.

You clear your throat, going up to rub your eyes, only for your hand to bump against your visor.

Damn it.

“I have good thingss I swearrr”!! He jokes.

You walk over to the smaller space, getting down on your knees to crawl through it.

Reaching the end of it, you stand up.

“Welcome wel—”

Sebastian cuts himself off when he meets your gaze. His smile fading.

Comically, zigzags lightly shake around yours and his head, as if making some sort of connection through a radio channel. Your face makes a confused and focused look once again. While Sebastian looks surprised.

It’s silent.

You shake your head—

“Sorry— Do I know you”? You ask, cupping your sweating hand(Though it’s not like you can feel it) around the back of your neck, rubbing it.

Sebastian is taken aback, as if he recognizes that voice.

“Well I—… I just might”…

“… What’s your name”?

.

.

.

“Sebastian”.

You gasp—

“Dad”??

Short because... I'm more used to romantic stuff... And like... Yeah

[phantomwithbreakfast]

~ Forbidden Love ~

DP phanfic story.

Teaser chapter 09. Hehe.

You can read the story on FanFiction.net—not finished—currently working on chapter 09! Not posted online yet.

———————

Pitch Pearl

Genre: Angst — Hurt/Comfort — Romance

TW: Bullying and Harassment — Violence — Emotional Distress — Strong Language)

Rate: T (But maybe it is M)

—

Spoiler loading…

Phantom shot through the sky, his form a blur against the night as the wind whipped around him, cool and refreshing. He could feel it tugging at his hair, swirling through his loose posture as he zigzagged through the open air, darting in and out of view. Each dip and dive filled him with a thrill he hadn’t felt in ages, a rush of pure excitement.

With a burst of speed, he popped back into view right in front of Valerie, stopping so suddenly that her eyes widened, her body tensing as she jerked back just a fraction. He caught the quick flicker of surprise in her face, and it made him chuckle, a low, mischievous sound that echoed through the quiet night. He floated backward slowly, his smirk widening, crossing his arms against his chest as he tilted his body in a relaxed, almost lazy posture. His legs stretched out in front of him, one foot casually crossing over the other as he drifted back, sticking his tongue out at her like a kid daring her to react.

Valerie’s eyes narrowed, but before she could anything, Phantom was on the move again. He shot forward with a laugh, his form shimmering as he phased right through her, that he could feel the chill radiating off her gear. As he passed, he glanced over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of her stunned expression as she spun around, trying to follow his movement.

The laughter bubbled up in his chest, light and joyful, as he soared upward, leaving her behind once more, his body twisting and looping through the air like he was part of the night itself. Every movement was effortless, his limbs loose, his posture fluid, as he relished the freedom of the moment.

———————

Maybe I still change this chapter up a bit, I don’t know yet.

And with that, I drew this one. To get the vision of that specific moment, you know?

And oh geez. Now I have the time again to practice at drawing, what feels like ancient ages ago, I think my own style might change (of course it does), ‘cause I’m searching back for my own style lol. Nothing is perfect, nothing ever will be perfect. Go with the flow, yes!

You have no idea how much I missed drawing Danny! It’s really therapy for me, and that includes the writing too.

And oh. First time I drew Valerie. That was quite fun (the tech suit!).

———————

Made in ProCreate.

DP copyright/rights, belongs to Nickelodeon.

[sanyu-thewitch05]

Yandere Superhero X Villain! F! Reader

Wanna buy me a coffee: ☕

TW: Dubcon, spankings, kidnapping, bodily horror

PT.2

Your real name is Y/N L/N, but your villain name is Anima. After your latest failure in trying to find a job, you went into the woods to end it all. Then, by some miracle, an entity older than any Abrahamic religion found your dead body and brought you back to life. Your senses were heightened, and you could hear the animal's chatter and noises as words. With a new feeling of power, you went through society doing whatever you wanted. Even if it meant a few people with broken bones or blood on the floor. That was until a superhero by the name of superhero by the name of Ultimate Man appeared and started defeating you in battle.

He isn't going to be a problem anymore after you take him out with your new suit. Not only does it have the abilities and strengths of every animal alive, but it has the strengths and abilities of the extinct ones. It took kidnapping a paleontologist, but it is so worth it.

"Anima, surrender, and you won't get hurt," Ultimate Man commands, floating a few feet above the ground.

"Sorry, but rent's due," You say, running off with the bags of money from the bank.

As you run, he shoots lasers at you, but you dodge them by zigzagging. Unfortunately, this leads to you not paying attention to where you're going, and you run yourself off a harbor walk. The money sinks into the ocean, and you struggle to swim back up. You switch to the abilities of any marine animal, but it's still not helping you. You see your feet entangled in seaweed and try to break free. Your struggle to free yourself has worn you out, and it seems like this is your last run. Your vision goes black as your instincts tell you to go up to the surface and breathe.

~~~~~~~~~~

When you open your eyes, your jaw and ass feel sore. You try to talk, but there's a gag in your mouth.

"How dare you be such a bad girl and cause so much trouble? Do you have no respect for anyone in this city? Who cares if your rent is due? Get! A! Fucking! Job!" Ultimate Man rants, spanking your ass after every word.

"MM! MH! AWCH!" You scream, your legs kicking as Ultimate Man uses his godly strength to spank you.

The tight latex suit didn't help with the spankings, in fact, the material made sure your body could feel them at their full force.

"Oh, I see the worst girl of the century has awakened. How does it feel knowing you almost got yourself killed trying to steal money?" Ultimate Man asks, taking off your gag.

His blonde hair with light blue highlights, aquamarine eyes, and skin-tight latex white and blue suit is a sight for the eyes. His appearance is ethereal, representing his alien origin from outer space sent to help out Earth on its newest supernatural threat(you.) Who knew having the power of every animal in existence would warrant alien help for the planet Earth?

"I'm sorry, Ultimate Man. I was only trying to pay my rent. Honest," You plead, bracing for another swat to the ass. "I didn't get the raise at my job, even though I deserve it, and I couldn't pay this month's rent."

"I believe you," Ultimate Man says, his hand still rubbing your ass. "But that doesn't mean I forgive you for what you did. I was so worried when you didn't rise from the water. I thought I lost you forever. I need a suitable mate, and you're the only one with abilities almost equal to mine on this planet."

"I'm sorry, WHAT?! I thought you were in a relationship with that news writer, Lora?" You ask, lifting your head.

"Are you kidding me? We're just friends. She couldn't compare to your beauty and strength. Now then, how about we get to know each other."

Ultimate Man peels off your eye mask, then takes out his contacts. There are no pupils in his eyes, just pools of aquamarine. It creeps you out, but at least he's still hot.

"I'm ☍⍀⍜⎍☍⟒⋏ ⏃⏃⍀☍⟒⋔. But you can call me Krouken Aarkem, which is pronounced Cro-oo-can Ar-kem. My human father calls me Ken. Now, what's your name?" Ultimate Man asks, lifting your body with ease.

"It's Marnie," You lie, not wanting to give him your real name.

His fingertips glow blue, and he places them on your head. Pain takes over your head as he searches through the deepest parts of your memory.

"Y/N M/N L/N. What a beautiful name. I'll make sure to bring over your cat so you can have your baby," Krouken says, removing his hands from you.

You slap him and stumble to the other side of the couch.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" You groan, holding your head.

"What did I do wrong? Please don't be mad at me!" Krouken cries, jumping onto your body and hugging you tightly. "I'll never do it again unless you want me to! I promise! Just don't be mad at me!"

"Alright! Alright! I'm not mad at you! Just get off of me!" You yell, pushing him off you after feeling his boner on your leg.

"Yay! Now, we can engage in the Plutonian ritual we call Improving."

Krouken starts taking off his suit, revealing his naked body to you. You back up but bump into the couch, leaving you nowhere to run. He touches your suit, liquifying the material and making it fall off your body like water. Krouken kisses you, his hand tracing every part of your body as if he were memorizing it.

"Your heart is beating fast? Do you want to fight me?" Krouken asks his hand on your chest.

"No. It's just something the human body does when we feel certain emotions," You explain, holding Krouken's hand.

"So you are excited to Improve too? Excellent, I can move forward," Krouken replies, his two dicks merging into one with the width of an adult's fist.

Your eyes widen in fear of the inhuman cock in front of you. There was no way it was going to fit. It was too wide to fit in your human pussy. If it were to go inside you, you'd feel it in your lungs.

"Wait, I think we should-" You plead, only for Krouken to shove his massive cock inside of you.

You can feel it moving inside as if his dick was made from thousands of little suction cups that were kissing your vaginal walls. Krouken's arm holds you in place, and he thrusts.

"Keep going, Krouken!" You moan, lifting your leg and putting it on his shoulder.

Krouken bites and sucks your nipples as he thrusts faster, his dick suction cups losing their grip and becoming more slippery.

"You're never going to be a bad girl ever again. I'm going to fill your stomach up with so many babies that you'll never be able to think of doing stupid shit without having trouble standing up. You're going to birth the next generation of my people. You're mine, all mine. Not those villain's colleague or someone else's enemy, mine," Krouken rambles, thrusting at an inhuman rate, destroying whatever tightness your pussy had.

His eyes become white as he cums, his alien cock suction cups releasing thousands of sperm. Upon his sperm's release, his genital suction cups regained their grip on your walls, and sucking on them, making you go into overdrive. You cum on his dick, and he shudders. Both of you relish in your afterglow, sweat dripping from your body.

"So, what did you think of Improving?" Krouken asks, his head resting on your breasts.

"It was good. By the way, why do your people call it that?" You ask, rubbing Krouken's wet hair.

"Because we improve each other's bodies. Once my seed is in you, it will rework some human DNA so you'll be more like me and vice versa. Your skin is already starting to become shiny and ethereal like my skin," Krouken answers, kissing your neck.

Your body feels extremely hot, like lava is in your veins, and your eyes are burning like no tomorrow. Your spine releases a horrifying crack as your body involuntarily jolts upwards. All you can do is scream as your bones and body transform permanently.

[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 45 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley is loving his life at home. Skittles continues to fit right in while you inadvertently insist on nearly finding the one thing Bradley wants to keep hidden. A family day at the beach followed by a night alone with you are the only things he wants to focus on right now. It would be great if that's what he was allowed to do.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff, smut, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4000 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

It was late by the time Bradley got home with Skittles, and you were pretty tired after assisting with an emergency at work. But Noah must have heard him pull into the driveway as he called out, "Daddy's back!" in the middle of coloring a rainbow turtle. He was out of his seat and heading for the front door before you could stop him, but it didn't matter, because you were anxious to see Bradley, too.

When you rounded the corner, he was kneeling on the floor and collecting Noah in his arms, a light blue bakery box on the floor next to him. You were used to seeing him with one arm around Noah while he held Skittles, but right now he was looking up at you like you were the only thing in the room worth his attention. It was remarkable that he still made you feel this giddy.

"Hey, Baby," he rasped. "You had a good day? Your emergency patient doing okay?" Then he stood up with his arms full and leaned down to kiss your forehead. He was still in his uniform, tall and strong, holding everything you cared about against his chest. 

"Yeah. I had a good day," you replied, somehow managing to squeeze your way between Noah and Skittles to give him a kiss on the neck while he chuckled. 

"Me too. Skittles got a clean bill of health," he whispered, and you could hear his stomach growling. It had probably been seven or eight hours since he had lunch, so you bent to pick up the bakery box, already craving a donut.

"That's good. Come on," you coaxed, tucking your index finger inside the top of his pants and earning a raised eyebrow as you tugged him toward the kitchen. "We already ate, but I'll heat up some leftovers for you while the two of you color."

"Daddy, is Skittles your best friend?" Noah asked as you set the box on the counter and took a peek. You gasped, because it was filled with crown donuts. You looked at Bradley over your shoulder where he was now sitting with his son on his lap.

"I think technically either Mommy or Aunt Natasha is my best friend, Bub."

You smiled as Noah sternly said, "No. It's Skittles. Mommy and Aunts don't count."

"Right. My bad," Bradley replied as he fiddled with something in his pocket. When he met your eyes, you noticed his cheeks were a little flushed as you bit into one of the donuts. "I got you a whole dozen this time."

"I see that," you replied, setting it down again so you could heat up a plate of food. "Did you run into Casey?"

"I did not," he replied as Noah handed him a green crayon. "It was just Skittles and I running up the credit card bill. That animal clinic is expensive."

"I believe it," you replied, taking a bite of potato from his plate to make sure it was hot enough. You'd always wanted a dog, but according to your parents, everything to do with pets was too pricey. They wouldn't even let you have a goldfish when you were a kid. 

You set Bradley's dinner in front of him before grabbing the container of ants on logs out of the refrigerator for Noah. You arranged them on a plate in a zigzag shape before giving them to him, and he had one in his mouth before the plate was all the way set down. When you turned to get your donut, Bradley reached out and wrapped his hand around your thigh, pulling you back to him. 

"Princess," he whispered. "I love you."

He looked tired, and he was clearly in a bit of a soft mood. Maybe even sentimental. The way he called you his best friend a few minutes ago made you smile even now. But his dark eyes held so much devotion as he examined your face that you ran your fingers down along his cheek and let your forehead rest against his. You knew he was starving; you could still hear his stomach growling, but he made no move to release your leg to take a bite of his dinner. So you just stayed there, your lips brushing his every time you moved.

"I love you too, Daddy."

You grinned against his kiss as Noah crunched loudly on his carrot sticks. This was where you belonged. You could barely even remember the details of your tiny rental because of all of the richness of your home with Bradley. It was overpowering. Living with Bradley and Noah had a dreamlike quality that made everything better. 

"You need to eat," you whispered, kissing Bradley one more time before returning to your donut. 

-----------------------------

"I want Skittles to sleep in my bed!" Noah was practically crying, his cheeks bright red with frustration as Bradley tried to get him ready to go to sleep. He was overtired and cranky, and right now he was inconsolable. "You said after she got her cast off, she could sleep in my bed!"

"Noah," Bradley said in his softest tone as his son's arms flailed in his pajama shirt. "I said we can try, but we can't force Skittles to do things. Do you understand?"

But he just whined, "I want her to sleep in my bed!" 

Bradley sighed where he sat in the middle of Noah's bedroom floor, the engagement ring still tucked in his khaki uniform pants pocket. He didn't know where to put it. He didn't even know exactly when he wanted to give it to you. But he desperately needed to get it stashed away somewhere before he just proposed to you tonight, because having it on his person was making him feel a certain way about you. Maybe it was a good thing that Noah was kind of killing the vibe.

"Just get in bed," Bradley told him. "If you get in bed right now, I'll bring Skittles in."

He watched Noah launch himself into his twin bed and pull the blankets up to his chin. The odds that the pup would stay in Noah's room even for a few minutes were pretty slim. You had her out in the backyard right now so she could go to the bathroom, but the little pooch was almost glued to Bradley's side whenever he was home. 

As soon as you walked back inside in your cute little shorts and tank top set with Skittles at your feet, Bradley bent and scooped her up. "Noah is losing his mind. Wish me luck." He turned away from you with a smirk and kissed Skittles on her head. "If you stay in there until Noah falls asleep and long enough for me to fuck my Princess, I'll give you a treat."

You were cracking up in the kitchen as he walked away. "You're bargaining with the dog!" But he knew better. Skittles wasn't just a dog, she was his best friend after all.

Noah's eyes lit up in the soft glow from the nightlight when Bradley entered his bedroom with the pup. "She got used to her own bed, okay? So if she doesn't want to stay, we can't make her." But Noah's arms were outstretched, ready to hold his pet, and Bradley got her nestled in under the blankets next to his little body. 

As the dog looked up at him, concern for her new sleeping arrangement in her puppy eyes, Bradley bent to kiss Noah on the forehead and Skittles next to her bow. "Try to go right to sleep," he whispered to Noah. "I'm serious."

He just giggled in response as the dog licked his face, and Bradley did not see this little experiment ending well as he exited the room. He patted his pants pocket just as he had been doing all night. It took all he had within him not to open up the box and check to make sure your ring was secure, and he still didn't know where to put it for safekeeping.

When he entered his bedroom, he abandoned the idea of finding a good hiding spot when he found you in the middle of the bed wearing your paper crown. You looked so young and impossibly innocent with your glossy lips and your pajama set, but your filthy words betrayed you. "I heard you wanted to fuck a Princess."

He ran his fingers through his hair and smirked as he stood next to the side of the bed while you crawled toward him. "I always want my Princess," he whispered as your lips hovered just inches away from his zipper. When you looked up at him, every trace of innocence was completely gone, and you leaned in until your lips met his tip through his khakis. "Baby," he moaned, but before you could get his zipper down, he reached for your hands. 

"What's wrong?" you asked as he pulled you up so you were kneeling in front of him. 

"Nothing's wrong. Everything is very right."

You smiled up at him as he kissed your lips softly. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, as plainly evidenced by the ring in his pocket right next to where your hand just settled. So as he guided your fingers up to his chest, he asked, "Do you want to go on a date with me?"

You laughed against his lips. "You're asking me on a date? We're already in a relationship."

Bradley's hands settled on your hips as he nipped along your jaw until his mouth was next to your ear. "Doesn't mean I can't ask you out. I got selected to fly in the air show, and I want you to be my date for the weekend."

"Really?" you gasped, your fingers tightening around his shirt buttons. "Noah and I get to watch you fly? And you and I can tour the children's hospital?"

"Mmhmm. I wasn't about to let you go with Jake. That man only has one thing on his mind when it comes to you."

"Oh yeah?" you asked, feigning pure innocence once again through your voice. "What does he have on his mind?" When Bradley responded by tucking his hand inside your tiny shorts and stroking your bare pussy, first you gasped, and then you laughed.

His touch remained soft and tentative as he slipped one finger down to tease your opening. "You see, he doesn't want you the way I want you."

"How do you want me?" you whimpered softly, kissing his lips. 

"I want you with me for the rest of my life."

"Daddy!" you whined, kissing him desperately as you wrapped your arms around his neck. He knew nobody else had ever spoken to you the way he did, but he also knew he'd never been in love like this before. This time, when you reached for his zipper, he let you have him. His shirt and pants ended up on the floor along with your tiny pajamas, and you welcomed him into your tight pussy as you told him you loved him.

"I have everything," he groaned as he made love to you as you peppered kisses along his flushed cheeks. "You're everything."

After you came for him, Bradley let himself indulge in filling you up while thinking about your belly all swollen and pregnant, and you reached for him just as Skittle came trotting back into the bedroom. Your soft laughter as Bradley curled up behind you had him laughing, too.

"The dog will literally do anything you ask," you whispered as she walked across the room and turned three circles around her dog bed before plopping down. "She stayed in bed with Noah long enough for you to fuck me."

"Dogs are man's best friend for a reason, Princess."

You snuggled in his arms for a few minutes, fingers laced with his as you kissed his forearm. Just as Bradley was starting to doze off, you said, "I'll check on Noah before I get ready for bed." He squeezed you tight one time before releasing you and rolling onto his back to stretch. "Ow!" you gasped when you climbed out of bed. "Shit! I just stepped on something hard in your uniform pants."

His eyes went wide as you started to bend down to investigate, but he vaulted out of bed. "I'll take care of it," he practically yelled, and you dropped his pants. The ring box made a soft thud as it hit the floor, and you gave him a strange look. 

"Okay," you replied, glancing at him one more time before pulling your pajamas on and heading out of the room.

"Fuck," Bradley grunted, picking up the pants and rooting around in the pocket until the box was in his hand. He turned away from the door and snapped it open, revealing the most perfect ring he had ever seen. He was already obsessed with imagining it on your finger. But he snapped it closed again quickly and ran for the dresser. 

He could leave it with his undershirts, but when he opened that drawer, he realized you were in that one a lot, often borrowing from him. He opened the next drawer down, but it was filled with your cute underwear, so that definitely wouldn't work. He reached for the bottom drawer which was filled with his socks, but he heard you coming back down the hallway, so he dropped the box and kicked it shut.

"Aren't you going to get ready for bed?" you asked as you plugged your phone into the charger, still eyeing him a little cautiously. Bradley realized he was just awkwardly standing there naked in front of the dresser for seemingly no reason, so he was definitely going to have to move the ring later. 

"Yeah," he agreed, grabbing some clean underwear and kissing you as he walked past. "Getting ready for bed."

--------------------------

On Thursday, Bradley let you know that everyone was insisting on a beach day on Saturday, but when you texted Natasha about what kind of bathing suit she was planning on wearing, she claimed she might not even go. 

"Well I don't know if I want to go if Nat isn't going," you complained to Bradley while you made dinner. "I don't want to be the only female there. In a bathing suit. That would be weird."

"She's going," Bradley said with an eye roll. "She's just being difficult, because she's trying to pretend nothing is going on with Javy. Besides, I'm not going unless you're going." He took the spoon you were holding out of your hand and spun you around to face him. "I don't want to go anywhere without my Princess."

You let him kiss you and slip his hands underneath your top, trying not to moan as his calloused hands danced softly along your skin. When his lips skimmed along your cheek, you whispered, "You just want me there to help you walk safely across the uneven rocks and sand." You bit your lip as he eased his face away from yours to give you a cautionary look. So of course you immediately added, "Because you're such an old man."

One big hand slipped down and softly spanked you on the butt as you laughed. "Old or not, I can still get the job done. And that includes walking across the beach."

"Sure, Daddy. But I'll go, too. Just in case."

"Thank you. Now if you think you can be nice for a minute, I have something to tell you."

"I can be very nice," you said, kissing him on the tip of his nose before spinning around to check on dinner. 

Bradley patted you on the butt before reaching into the refrigerator to get two beers out. "Penny offered to take Noah home after the beach and keep him for the night."

As he opened both bottles, your gaze drifted to where Noah was sitting on the kitchen floor, building blocks while Skittles basked in the last rays of the setting sun. You licked your lips as you watched Bradley press his mouth to his beer and take a long drink, the bob of his Adam's apple capturing your attention. "We'd have the house to ourselves for the night?"

He winked at you as he set his beer on the counter and pressed the other one into your hand. "Just you and me," he rasped, pecking your cheek. "And I can think of a few fun ways to pass the time."

Then he was on the floor with Noah, and Skittles was in his lap, but he kept shooting you his smug smile that you liked so much.

On Friday night, after Noah was in bed, you started to get things packed up for the following day. "Why do we need so much stuff to go anywhere?" you mused out loud as you found sunblock and beach towels.

"Oh, hell no," Bradley said, taking you by the hips and pulling you away from the tote bag you were packing. "First of all, you used to bring your textbooks over in that bag when you were babysitting, so it gives me an instant boner." You erupted into laughter as he held you against his chest. "But second, you drastically over packed when we went to the lakehouse."

You looked up at him over your shoulder. "I know," you whispered. "But I want Noah to have anything he might need or want. And you know how my parents were." You didn't like talking about them. They never understood you when you were a child, and that's why you'd moved out as soon as you could. They were also the reason you had a hard time spending Bradley's money even though he wanted you to be comfortable.

"I know, Baby," Bradley crooned, and you melted back against him. "I love how much you love Noah. And I hate that you never got to do anything or ask for anything when you were his age, but there's no need to go overboard for a beach day."

You nodded. "Well then why don't you help me pack?"

"I'd be happy to."

But you and Bradley spent more time kissing and laughing softly than anything else. His hands were all over you, just pulling you closer and trying to keep you there. "Let's go to bed," he whined for the third time, convinced you'd packed everything the three of you could possibly need. "I want to cuddle with you."

You nearly shrieked as he picked you up, leaving the pile of gear for the beach next to the front door, and carried you back to the bedroom. "Oh, you want to cuddle?"

He hummed and nodded against your shoulder. "Yeah. Let's save all the nasty shit for when we're home alone tomorrow night." Butterflies erupted in your belly as he set you down on the bed and climbed in next to you. "Let's cuddle."

You were wrapped up tight in his arms, Bradley's soft, even breaths tickling your neck as he whispered that he loved you. This was perhaps the safest you'd ever felt in your life. Nobody was going to hurt you here. Not now. Bradley would take care of that. And you would take care of him. 

As you snuggled in to go to sleep, your eyes caught on the items lined up on the dresser. "What's all of that out for?" you asked softly.

"Huh?" Bradley grunted, probably already part way asleep. But you propped yourself up on your elbow and looked at the purple USB drive, a pile of your underwear, your purple plug, your paper crown, and the bottle of lube. All sitting in a tidy row.

"On the dresser, Bradley."

"Oh," he said with a chuckle as he pulled you down flat again. "I started packing for the weekend, too. So to speak."

-------------------------

Bradley grunted, trying his best not to let you see how awkwardly he was walking across the sand. Not after you made the claim that he'd need you to hold his hand and guide him. You and Noah pranced ahead of him, but he was stuck carrying two bags, a cooler, an umbrella and a beach chair. And the temperature of the sand was roughly that of the surface of the sun. 

"Fuck," he growled as the sand rushed into his flip flops and his aviators slid down his nose. How you were managing was literally beyond him. He just wanted to get this afternoon over with and get you back home and into bed. He had some plans for you, all of which were becoming more explicit by the moment as he watched your ass swaying in your purple bikini bottoms. 

Literally the last thing he needed right now was to become aroused, so he just pushed your delicious looking rear end from his mind. Apparently you found the perfect spot, because you finally stopped and turned around to look for him. Then you laughed and left Noah with Nat while you made your way back to him. 

"This sand is fucking hot," he complained before you could say anything at all. 

You took one of the bags and the umbrella from him as you said, "It's August, Daddy. Of course the sand is hot. Do you need me to help you along? Or, I could run back to the Bronco and get your walker?" You started to turn in the direction of the parking lot with an innocent look on your face.

"You're really looking to get it tonight, aren't you?" Bradley replied, dumping everything next to where Noah was burying Nat's legs in the sand. You looked so pleased with yourself, and he thought about the ring that he had moved to the pocket of his dress whites that he'd picked up from the dry cleaner. They were hanging in the back of the closet, and he figured you'd have no reason to look there. Before you could run off, he pulled you in for a tight hug and said, "Stay out of trouble. Be a good girl. And I'll give you anything you want later."

Your lips met his ear, nudging his aviators crooked. "I love you." His fingers skimmed your skimpy bathing suit bottom as you joined Noah who had Nat covered to her thighs. 

Javy was trying his best to casually toss a football around with Mickey and Mav, but he couldn't keep his eyes to himself. It was a good thing Bradley was absolutely convinced he was looking at Nat and not you, otherwise he'd have a problem. He left you next to the pile of everything you packed, intending to simply join the little football scrimmage that was going on, but then he felt a hand on his shoulder. 

"Hey, that's really nice, Bradshaw," Jake drawled. "You brought the family today. The little ball and chain, and the big ball and chain."

Bradley hooked his sunglasses with his index finger and dragged them roughly down his nose. "Funny," he said without emotion. "But you weren't calling her a ball and chain back in April when you tried to hook up with her in my kitchen."

Jake hooted with laughter, and it made Bradley's skin crawl. He was such a dick most of the time, and it was always intentional. "There's a difference between hitting a tight pussy and inviting it to live with you. I know the difference. You don't seem to. I'm surprised you didn't bring your dog along, too."

Bradley snapped. "What the fuck is your problem, man?" 

Jake met his gaze, and Bradley was reminded without a doubt that Jake would love to get inside your little bikini bottoms just to say he could. "I don't have a problem, but it looks like you do." He jerked his chin toward the volleyball nets, and Bradley turned to investigate. You were standing there, holding hands with Noah while you talked to a guy with blond hair. Upon further inspection, Bradley realized it was your ex boyfriend, Greyson.

--------------------------

Well, well, well. We actually hate you, Grey. If Daddy and Princess can manage to make it to their sexy night home alone, what would you like to read about? And I really hope that ring is well hidden until Daddy comes up with a plan. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 46

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[angorwhosebabyisthis]

'still no real help from that earth faerie.' that is the face of a man who just tried to do murder with his teeth and bare hands and Would Fuckin Try It Again if he knew sophie wasn't going to stop him this time

reading ToW as a kid i was confused by how angry bruno was with ilere from the moment they walked in, and how fast he Lost It, but looking back i'm just like yeah if someone dumped my traumatized little sister in the woods to fend for herself for ten years i would not be very patient with them either

[ennabear]

ʕ ꈍᴥꈍʔ been thinking about abby’s delicious scars lately… a lil fluffy blurb about my beautiful wife, a few nsfw comments but mostly fluff!!! 18+

ᥫ᭡ cleaning her up after the fight in the theater. adrenaline is still pumping through her veins, heart pounding as she pieces together the parallels of mel and ellie’s girlfriend. swiping up all of the bloodstained tears that spill, salty droplets mixing with thick red blood. in one of your hands, a needle, the other grabbing onto hers as you both tremble and sob.

running a nimble finger over the scar as it begins to heal, the skin around it a pale pink while the wound itself is a darker maroon. kissing up her tears as she stares at herself in the mirror, jagged scores littering her once spotless arms.

kissing over them as the two of you make love, your soft lips pressing sweetly to her cheek as she’s sprawled out under you. then trailing lower, kissing the scars on her chest, biceps, hands, thighs, feeling the newly smooth skin under your lips.

whistling praises to her once she regains the confidence to wear muscle tanks again. the small scars from thorns and arrows are almost nonexistent compared to the bright scars that trail down her sides now. her spotted cheeks flushing into a rosy pink as she hears a “looking good, anderson!” follow her down the hall, accompanied by an obnoxiously loud wolf whistle.

or whispering small praises to her in the dark, one hand down her pants in an abandoned building as the other caresses the pale scar on her cheek. “so good, abby. just like that.” you whisper as she clenches and drips around your fingers, eyes rolling back into her head as you kiss the little slit under her eyebrow.

mindlessly tracing over them as you two sit and chat with isaac, a habit you’ve picked up to comfort yourself. only halfway listening to his blabber of training more kids when abby’s hand grabs yours, squeezing it tightly and settling your nerves. she knows how anxious you get about patrolling ever since ellie’s been in town, at least she’s still capable of staying unafraid.

studying the zigzag of her thigh scars on a day off. laying between her legs, head on her stomach nuzzling into her happy trail. her sweet, husky morning voice reading from the novel you left off on the night before. the slashes now lightening and thinning out as the years go by, but still beautiful as ever, at least in your eyes.

pressing a kiss to her cheek scar as she snores softly on the couch. an old cd hums in the background, her clipboard planted on the floor as she smooshes her face into a pillow. running the back of your knuckle over the rip on her bicep before tugging a blanket over her.

and of course, your favorite, the way the scar on her cheek folds into a slight crescent with her smiles. only for your eyes does she have the confidence to be so tender, but the sweet tightening of her lips is a constant reminder of the warmth in your heart.

[biblical-chronicles]

Baby fever

_________________________________________

where Noel can't get enough of watching you take care of Lennon.

_________________________________________

You and Noel had just sat down on the couch, him sinking into the cushions with a sigh like he was already bored out of his mind. You’d barely had a second to settle in before the sound of tiny feet pattering across the floor made you perk up.

“Lennon’s in?” you asked, turning to Liam with a grin.

“Yeah, yeah, the big lad’s here,” he muttered, waving a hand dismissively. “But don’t get too excited, he’s a right little menace today.”

You didn’t listen. The second the little blond toddler rounded the corner, you were beaming. “Lennon!”

His head snapped up, bright eyes finding you instantly, and before Liam could warn you, the kid was launching himself at you. Small arms wrapped around your legs, and you scooped him up effortlessly, laughing as he clung to you like a little monkey.

“Well, hello to you too,” you chuckled, brushing his hair back from his forehead. “Didn’t know you were waitin' for me.”

“Course I was.” he said simply, in that blunt way only toddlers could manage.

Liam rolled his eyes. “Oi, don’t inflate her ego, kid. She’s insufferable enough as it is.”

Lennon ignored him, making a beeline for the couch just as you sat down next to Noel again. But rather than plopping himself down anywhere else, the toddler wedged his tiny frame right between you and Noel, determinedly claiming the space like it was a matter of life and death.

Liam snorted, shaking his head. “Bloody hell, Noel, watch out. Looks like the little one’s about to steal your missus.”

Noel barely spared a glance down at the sudden intruder in his space, just raised an eyebrow before Liam piped in again. “Reckon she’s got a type, then. Clingy, bossy, and about three feet tall.”

You burst into laughter as Lennon, oblivious to the teasing, just snuggled further into you, like he’d already won some great battle.

“Well, I can’t argue with that, can I?” You lifted him into your lap instead, letting him settle in comfortably, absentmindedly smoothing out his hair as he leaned against you.

Noel just shook his head, amused. “Right little charmer, he is.”

Liam scoffed, flopping into the armchair across from you. “Don’t encourage him, man. He’s got enough of that from his mum.”

The conversation drifted into the usual back and forth, jokes flying between you, Liam, and Noel, with Lennon happily nestled in your lap, soaking up the attention. But, of course, with toddlers having the attention span of a goldfish, Lennon soon started wiggling restlessly.

“I’m bored,” he announced dramatically. “Can we play footie? Please?”

Liam raised an eyebrow. “Oi, this isn’t your guest, you know.”

Before he could go on further, you grinned. “Oh, I don’t mind at all, if you'll excuse me for ten minutes.” you said easily, shifting Lennon off your lap and standing up.

Lennon’s face lit up, practically glowing with pride. He turned to his dad with a smug grin. “Look, she wants to play with me.”

Noel snorted, and Liam shot him a glare before looking back at you. “Yeah, yeah, alright, but don’t let him run you ragged. He’s relentless today.”

You ruffled Lennon’s hair. “I think I can handle it.”

With that, you followed the little one outside, letting him dash ahead to grab the ball. The air was crisp but not too cold, the sky still holding onto the last bits of daylight. Lennon wasted no time, rolling the ball toward you with an eager grin.

“Alright,” you said, tapping the ball back toward him. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

The game was chaos from the start. Lennon had all the energy in the world and none of the technique, yet that didn’t stop him from running around like a madman. You tried showing him some basic kick-ups, but he was more interested in dribbling the ball in a messy zigzag and making dramatic goal celebrations every time he got past you.

Inside the house, Noel had half a mind to listen to whatever Liam was going on about, but his attention kept drifting toward the window. His fingers drummed against the armrest, eyes narrowing slightly as he watched you outside. The way you crouched to Lennon’s level, patiently showing him how to control the ball. The way you laughed when he got it wrong but tried again anyway. The way Lennon absolutely adored you.

Liam caught where his gaze had wandered and smirked. “Jesus Christ, look at you.”

Noel turned back, frowning. “What?”

Liam gestured lazily toward the window. “You’re bloody mesmerised. Don’t think I’ve seen you look that in love with owt that isn’t a guitar.”

Noel scoffed, but his gaze flickered back outside, where Lennon had just tackled you in an overly enthusiastic hug after managing to kick the ball past you.

Liam smirked. “Baby fever, is it?”

“Shut up.” Noel muttered, sinking further into the couch.

Liam laughed. “Nah, mate, I get it. She’s good with him. Natural, even.” He leaned back, arms crossed. “Bet you’re thinkin’ about it now, aren’t ya?”

Noel rolled his eyes. “You're a bloody wind up merchant, you.”

Liam just grinned. “Say what you want, but I bet if I walked out there right now and told her you wanna put a ring on it, you wouldn’t even deny it.”

Noel glared at him. “You do that, and you’ll be the one buried in the garden.”

Liam just laughed harder, but Noel ignored him, letting his gaze drift back out the window, watching as you ran around with the toddler, both of you grinning like it was the best day ever.

After a while, you and Lennon made your way back inside, slightly breathless, your shirt damp from running around with him. As you stepped into the living room, you wiped your forehead dramatically.

“You were right,” you said to Liam, shaking your head. “He’s a bit relentless today. We’re gonna grab some water, yeah?”

But Lennon had other ideas. “No!” he piped up, bouncing on his feet. “I wanna show them the song!”

That got Noel and Liam’s attention. Noel leaned forward slightly, intrigued, while Liam raised an eyebrow.

“Oh yeah?” you asked, crouching down to his level. “You sure? No water first?”

Lennon ignored that completely, puffing his little chest out. Then, with all the confidence in the world, he started singing.

"Blue moon… you saw me standing alone…”

He got through the first few lines, not quite in tune, words a bit jumbled, but the effort was undeniable. When he finished, he stood there beaming, waiting for approval.

You clapped immediately, grinning. “That was brilliant, Lennon!” Then, you turned to Liam, shaking your head. “I’m actually disgusted, Liam. How could he not know the club anthem before?”

Lennon, catching onto your tone, gasped and looked up at his dad, eyes wide with betrayal, clearly not wanting to miss the opportunity to tell his dad off with you behind his back.

“Yeah, what she said.”

Liam groaned. “Oh, come on—why are you two ganging up on me in me own house?”

Noel let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. “Looks like you’ve lost this one, our kid.”

You smirked. “Might be time to admit you’ve failed as a parent, Liam.”

Liam pointed at you, shaking his head. “You’re a terrible influence.”

“Oh, don’t be dramatic,” you teased, running a hand through Lennon’s hair. “You’re just bitter ‘cause I got there first.”

Liam scoffed. “He’s just three! I was gonna teach him.”

Noel just continued watching the whole thing unfold, arms crossed as he leaned back into the couch. But something about the scene—you, standing there, Lennon practically attached to your side, both of you smirking at Liam like you were conspiring against him—was doing something to him. And the fact that you’d been the one to teach him Blue Moon? That just sealed it.

Liam, of course, clocked it immediately. He turned to Noel with a knowing smirk. “Oi, you alright there, mate? You’re lookin’ a bit—what’s the word? Smitten?”

Noel scowled. “Oh give over.”

But Liam was already laughing. “Oh, this is great. You’re gone, mate. Completely gone.”

You turned back to Noel, raising an eyebrow. “What’s he on about?”

Noel just shook his head, but the smile was already creeping onto his lips. “Nothin’. He’s just windin' me up.”

Before you could press him, Lennon tugged at your sleeve. “Can I sing it again?”

You grinned, reaching for his hands. “Course you can, rockstar.”

As Lennon launched into another—somehow even less accurate—rendition of Blue Moon, Noel pulled you down beside him. He then leaned in and pressed a kiss to your temple.

It was so natural, that for a second you almost didn’t react. But then you glanced at him, catching that little smirk of his, and felt warmth spread through your chest.

Noel’s voice was low, just for you. “I love you, y’know. To the moon and back.”

_________________________________________

I loved this, big thanks to @tashi-3 for the request, hope you liked it love !!

I know the picture doesn't match that well but he just looked too good not to put it in, biblical side profile x