#milk is another big one but i actually really like whole milk

[ruthlesslistener]

Part of growing up is begrudgingly realizing that as much as you hate bananas, those bitches really are powerfoods for getting you through the day whereas your beloved appy slices will not

[confetti-critter]

The night is young and I am free to do whatever my heart desires but unfortunately I have once again found myself trapped in the Time Prison and so I

[woodywood101blog]

Experimental: 30 Weeks

“Alright, Mr Wilson. Your results appear stable after the most recent rounds of chemotherapy. We should be on track to withdrawing the daily chemo pills after the next round, and just focusing on the fortnightly infusion. Any questions?”

“Uhh, not that I can think of?”

“All good. As always, I’m only a phone call away! Otherwise, have a good rest of your day, Mr Wilson.”

When Mr Wilson was walking out of the office, Randy poked his head around the door. “Yoohoo!”

“Big summer blowout!” Yazan replied.

“Ha! How’s it going, big momma?”

“Randy, you know you can’t call me that at work! No one else knows here…”

“I know, but the door’s shut, and I know they’re pretty airtight. I’ve been able to quiet whole aisles of the hospitals from screaming kids by shutting these doors.”

“Alright, I get it! Anyway, these babies are killing me!”

“What’s happened now, Yaz?”

Yazan groaned as he stood up from his desk to stretch his back, poking his belly even further forward. Randy was finding it really hard to stay focused on what Yazan says each time he lugs his pregnancy around.

“They’re kicking and moving all the time! My feet are swollen. I’ve had to go up two shoe sizes. Two! In less than a month! And my pecs? They’re starting to look like actual tits! No more round and muscular pecs for me, I guess. I now have two knockers that are brown and inevitably going to leak milk at some point! My hips are sore, my back is sore, I have headaches all the time, and I have reflux every time I eat. I just want this nightmare to be over, Randy!”

“What did you say about a headache?”

“I just get headaches, mainly when I’m here at work. I wonder if that’s what ‘baby brain’ really means?”

“Maybe… Anyway, do you want to grab lunch at the café?”

“Sounds good!” Yazan groaned again as he started walking towards the café, with Randy walking behind. Randy could feel himself getting hard staring at Yazan’s widening hips and butt as he waddled in front.

“Woof”, Randy murmured to himself.

***

Yazan reached 28 weeks, which according to Mike is meant to be when quadruplets are born. However, he genuinely did not feel any sudden urge to go into labour. His babies felt nice and cosy inside his stomach, or “man-uterus” as Randy started calling it. Yazan hated that word, but there really were no other words to describe what was going on. 

His babies were starting to kick more ferociously as they were competing for space within the tight confines. Yazan felt genuinely worried one of the babies would kick so hard one of his ribs would break.

However, he started to feel more at ease when the babies were kicking and moving around. They’re doing fine, he would remind himself. Yazan was finally starting to accept that he really was pregnant and that he was going to become a father to four children.

It started a new phase of his pregnancy where he started to embrace the changes. He started to feel more excited waking up each morning, and said “Good morning” to the babies when he woke up, and giggled when the babies would stretch and kick back in joy. He started ordering creams to minimise the stretch marks as much as he could, although he didn’t have many to begin with surprisingly. However, Yazan was yet to accept that his pecs, his prized muscle group, were becoming breasts. He couldn’t begin to imagine how he would make enough milk for the babies, let alone breastfeed them.

Another thing Yazan struggled to accept was how hungry he was all the time. He always prided himself on maintaining a balanced diet that worked during his bulking and cutting phases in his fitness regime. Now that his fitness regime was out the window, he instinctively felt a need to ensure the babies were being fed in any way possible. It meant he became a frequent patron of the hospital café, and particularly their pastry section. He would almost always be seen snacking on something, whether it was fruit, nuts or a chocolate croissant with extra Nutella. At night, he would occasionally have more unusual cravings like deep fried potato with cream, or fruit cake topped with sweet and sour sauce. He tried to resist the fruit cake craving, but it became so overpowering that he texted Randy to immediately go to the nearest Walmart and find a fruit cake, even though it was nearly midnight.

He didn’t really think much of Mike. Frankly, Mike’s advice became irrelevant the further along Yazan got in the pregnancy, especially as he was meant to have already given birth according to Mike’s advice. When Yazan finally got around to video calling Mike again, he did it while spending a late night in the office finishing up patient files.

“Hey there, Yazan! How are you going?”

“Yeah, not too bad… except that I still have four babies in me.” Yazan lowered his camera to his exposed belly he was rubbing previously.

“What?! How far along are you now?”

“I think 29 weeks.”

“Are you feeling any pain or pressure in the hips?”

“I always feel pain and pressure in the hips because I’m not meant to be pregnant! But no, I’m not feeling any Braxton Hicks or actual contractions.”

“Okay… Well, the offer to come to Australia still stands. I think the window to come here is closing soon, so if you want to be cared for by the person who got you in this mess, then let me know and I’ll make arrangements.”

Yazan grunted. Too right you got me into this mess, he thought. Maybe it would be good for the person who got me in this mess to also get me out of this mess?

***

As he approached 30 weeks, Yazan was struggling to keep up his workload. He was exhausted by the constant movement, the smaller bladder, and the general exhaustion from trying to grow four babies at once. He finally had a quiet time for himself where he could lift his shirt and relax his belly in his office when Randy peeked around the door.

“Ugh, what?!” Yazan yelled.

“Hey, Yaz… How’s it going?”

“Frankly, I don’t know how much longer I can do this.”

“Do what?”

“This! Being a doctor… While pregnant.”

“Have you considered going on leave? Have you checked your leave balance?”

“Doctors don’t go on leave unless they absolutely have to.”

“Well, maybe this is one of those absolute situations?”

“I guess… Mike said he could make arrangements for me in Australia to deliver the babies there.”

“Are you sure you can survive the long flight to Australia in your condition?”

“Well, I probably need medical clearance to fly like any other pregnancy, right?”

“Sure, although this is not like any other pregnancy.”

Yazan stared intensely at Randy, hoping he would pick up his cue…

“I guess I could grant you medical clearance?” Randy said meekly.

Yazan smiled. “Thank you, R-”

“On one condition… I will come with you!”

Yazan thought about it for a couple of seconds. On the one hand, it would be fun and nice to have some moral support in Sydney other than the guy who got me in this situation in the first place. On the other hand, I can’t really expect Randy to drop everything and come to the other side of the world to see me struggle in the final stages of a pregnancy?

“I can tell you’re thinking through the idea, Yaz, so let me make it easier for you. I’ll pay for the flights and accommodation and you cover the other living expenses. And when the babies are born, I’ll get in touch with one of my lawyer friends to help get the ball rolling on getting these kids American citizenship so they can come home. Alright?”

Yazan looked down and rubbed his belly. He started feeling a deep sense of calm and comfort doing that, knowing he was doing all that he could for them.

“Deal.”

Within a week, Yazan was able to confirm his leave balance was so large, he had the ability to take 4 months of leave and still have further leave to look forward to. Randy also noticed he had enough for a couple of months of leave, so it worked out perfectly. Aside from the weird looks from the HR officer when Yazan tried to explain the reason for longer leave, it was granted. 

They found a short-term lease in Haymarket, right near the Sydney city centre, that had more than enough space for them and the four kids once they arrived. Randy booked the flights - business class to give Yazan some sort of privacy and space to sleep - and off they went to Sydney.

[mitskicain]

navi | m.list

. ⁺ . ✦ the doghouse — ken sato x reader

© mitskicain all rights reserved. the modification, translation, and plagiarism of my work is strictly prohibited.

synopsis: date night; you talk about dealbreakers and what you want out of life, and each other.

content warning: cursing and profanity, suggestive, innuendos

word count: 1.4K

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003: play date

He arrives fifteen minutes early, with Indian, Chinese, Italian and Japanese takeout.

“I didn’t know what you liked,” he says, letting himself in and kicking his shoes off by the door, setting the bags on the counter. “So I got a little bit of everything.”

You stare at the food with a bewildered look in your eyes. This would last you the whole week. What the hell is this guy—made of money? Well, okay, granted his apartment and how he didn’t even ask you for the 400 bucks back suggests maybe, but christ, doesn’t he have other things he should be spending this on, like supercars or thousand dollar clothing?

Your train of thought is interrupted by him shoving you a greasy tub of butter chicken, alongside some garlic naan with a side of udon noodles. Interesting combo. You take your seat on the floor, setting the food on the shallow coffee table that’s littered with unopened mail and receipts.

“Do a lot of shopping?” He asks, mouth full of lasagna—he’s already chowing down on the food without as much as waiting for you to have taken your first bite. What a gentleman.

“No, well, not for me,” you reply, pushing around the food on your plate, “it’s for them.” You point towards your two dogs that are eyeing him keenly from behind the screen door, their eyes a flash of light in the dark. From a stranger's perspective, they must look absolutely vicious, but to you they were just Lassie and Strauber—from childhood, from the old days.

“Mm,” he hums, taking a sip of his Diet Coke. “Not much of a dog person, I’m afraid.”

You make a face.

“Date’s over, eugh,” you say, “dealbreaker.”

The both of you laugh, faces cracking up and all teeth—a flash of canines, again—something in your stomach churns.

“Seriously?” You ask, looking over at Ken who’s still hunched over, trying to stifle his laugh. “How could you say no to dogs?”

“I got chased by one as a kid, I guess it stuck.” he says, scooping up another mouthful of lasagna. He motions over to the two, “they bite?”

“Hard,” you grin, reminded of the time you asked him the same question. “When they bite, they don’t let go.”

He grimaces a bit, imagining the bloody, messy scene. You dip the naan in the curry, mopping up all its goodness. Ken devours his plate, and reaches for more—it’s a disgusting sight, like he’s been starved for days—but there’s something fulfilling about it too, like watching Strauber absolutely demolish a serving after you run an extra mile with her.

“You’re a mess,” you say, leaning forward and wiping a sauce streak away from the edge of his lip. You see the surprise on his face when your finger meets his skin, like he doesn’t expect it—didn’t know you were capable of being tender. Part of you didn’t expect it either.

Silence for a moment; the atmosphere still. The two of you realize you barely know anything about the other. You were just two strangers sharing a meal in your apartment.

“I read some of your stuff from the dayplanner,” he says, clearing his throat, hand on the back of his head. “It’s really good, I mean—you’re a writer?”

You give him an incredulous look, and laugh, shaking your head.

“No, not me, well—” you set the plate on the table and reach for your drink, some Indian rose milk he picked up that actually tasted really good, “not yet, at least. I’m hoping to make my big break soon.”

Silence, again—just for a second.

“You’ll make it,” he says, voice soft, looking over at him. His head is resting on the cushion of the couch, hair messy and cheeks slightly warm. Did he run on the way here? From restaurant to restaurant, trying to figure out what you would like before deciding: fuck it, and getting everything? You feel his fingers twitch slightly, inching towards yours. You turn away and wrap your arms around yourself.

“Don’t do that,” you struggled to pinpoint the feeling—the twisting, the churning—it made you feel sick, like you wanted to puke. The world seemed to spin. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you believe in me,” your voice falters. “It’s cruel, you know—giving false hope.”

He presses his lips into a thin line. He reaches for your hand again, this time you turn to look at him.

“I do mean it.” He says.

God.

You tear your gaze away from him—it’s too much, all of this. You can’t possibly comprehend it. His fingers tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. You reach for his hand and look up at him—his eyebrows furrowed, gray irises shimmering in the low light, mouth slightly open.

“Hey,” he breathes, voice just barely above a whisper.

“Hey,” you reply.

“Am I still just a one night stand?” He asks, and your stomach sinks. You frown a little.

“What does it matter?” You ask.

“Because I want to be more than just that,” he says, quick and easy. He sucks in a breath, as if preparing himself. “I want you.”

Your shoulders fall, and you lean forward into him, his lips finding the sensitive skin on your neck; nibbling and sucking. You squirm underneath his touch.

“Please,” he sighs in between kisses, his breath hot against your ear. “Please.”

His teeth sink into your flesh, followed quickly by his tongue rubbing soothing circles, then a kiss—like apologizing. He does this throughout the entirety of your neck, from underneath your jaw all the way along your collarbone. Your skin is slick with saliva and sweat, face red from the heat. Your hands find their way up his neck, when they grab a handful of his hair—you hear him moan.

God, the way he sounded.

“Please,” he says again, begging. Breathlessly. Desperately. “Please, I’ll be good.”

You whine, and push him away, trying to catch your breath. He falls back but catches himself by his arms, biceps flexed and straining underneath the black shirt he wore. It’s tight enough that you can make out the rouse of muscles underneath. His face is flushed, eyes half lidded, mouth open—breathing shallow. What a sight.

God.

He’s about to lean forward to reach for you again when he knocks over the half full cup of rose milk all over you, splattering all across your legs and the floor. His face twists into a look of panic, and he frantically grabs a fistful of tissues, trying to dab away at the mess before you change your mind or yell at him.

“Stop,” you say, and he freezes in his tracks, looking up at you. You tilt your head, gauging his reaction—the way he looks up at you with wide curious eyes, arms still frozen in position, so eager to please—like a dog.

“You said you’d be good, right?” You murmur, leaning back, “then clean this up.”

He tries to wipe at the mess but you stop him again, making a sharp ‘tsk’ sound with your tongue. He stops, perplexed gaze fixed on you, trying to figure out what you mean. You smile at the sight and raise a pointed foot, his hands instinctively reaching for the flesh of your calves.

“Lick,” you command, a glint in your eye. He stays still for a moment—breath hitched in his throat—before leaning down, eyes still fixed on you, and kisses the skin of your legs. His tongue is warm, gliding over you in slow strokes, sending shivers up and down your spine. You can feel the soft, velvety texture of him as he moves upwards, savoring every inch of you. The sensation is both soothing and electrifying. A mix of gentle pressure and lingering heat.

You lean forward, and push him back again, his back against the couch. He’s surprisingly lenient, not struggling when you climb onto his lap and straddle his hips. You trail your hands on his chest and you feel his heart, thundering against his ribcage. His hands feel up the milky skin of your thighs, resting on your waist.

“Please,” he says again, so close you can feel his breath on your lips. “Please, I want you.”

You grab his hands off your thigh and pin them by his side, a gasp escaping his lips. Your other hand grabs his face roughly, forcing him to look at you before you turn his head to press a wet trail of kisses up his jaw. He shivers and moans underneath your grasp.

“Mmm,” you hum into his skin, pulling away to whisper in his ear. “I love it when good boys beg.”

prev | next

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author’s note: Lassie and Strauber watching you make out with him from out the backyard be like 👁️👄👁️ HAHAHAHAH i love men when they beg and yearn like 💥💥 need him crawling, sobbing on his knees 🫡🫡‼️‼️‼️ my favorite genre of men is when they’re a little bit pathetic HEHEHEH🤭🤭🤭🤭 BUT ALSO‼️‼️ I wanted to ask: do you guys have any specific dealbreakers when it comes to dating? Like for me I absolutely can’t stand when they’re rude to staff like waiters or salespeople 😭😭🙏 or when they’re messy eaters—what about you guys?? feel free to share them in the comments, and as always, thank you for supporting my work ‼️‼️‼️‼️ MUAH MAUHHH👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

taglist: @luneariaa @moonjellyfishie @sweetcheeksbby-deactivated20240 @shittingonyourgrave @shauu @witcwitchy @fcklxnaa @despacito-uwu16 @mqshido @miffysoo @ybbayk @hore4ken @mochminnie @femmefqtqle @miratastic @lovingyeet @mythicalmo @yourfellowmarzipan @softdumplingposts @shinebright2000

[lilbadgyu]

I saw your requests are open -

Could you do Wonwoo thinking YN and Joshua are together? Kind of based on what Joshua said on Youngji's show about people taking his actions the wrong way (like opening her milk for her). Joshua is attentive and nice and YN is sweet and a good listener but they're just friends - two very American pals in Seoul. Wonwoo is a little discouraged but he has the wrong idea because YN is actually interested in someone else...

Thank you! Hope your getting back into writing here brings you lots of happiness 😊 @mykpopficblog

an: omg yes! lowkey that video with joshua and dk with youngji is one of my faves! (edit: i got the two videos mixed up 😭)

Friends: 전원우

✧˚ · . Friends by Chase Atlantic

Seventeen Master List Word Count: 909

✧˚ · .Warnings: jealousy? but not super jealous

✧˚ · . Summary: Wonwoo always has his eyes on you, seeing how you are around the other members, but starts to notice that you and Joshua are close.

✧˚ · .AN: i am sorry if there are any mistakes or weird spellings i just got my nails done and it's lowkey really hard to type lol

it was another day in the practice room, but it was getting close to the end; and that meant dinner. seungcheol came up with the idea that everyone joins dinner. it was friday night, and the team worked hard this week, and seungcheol wanted to treat you and the boys to take out.

you stood to the side, watching everyone pay close attention to the choreographer. they were rehearsing for their soon to be tour, and they wanted it to be perfect. you found it funny when they messed around, but yet they always got back on track. your eyes scanned the whole group, but they always landed on wonwoo. you two were close friends, but over the years you found yourself s,owly falling for him.

no matter what it was, he was beginning to catch your attention big time.

the boys were dismissed for a ten minute break, everyone rushing over to their stuff to get a drink of water; or even check their phones. joshua walked over, and you handed him his water. "well thank you, i hope that you're not bored already." joshua chuckled, taking a sip of his water.

"nope, you guys are very entertaining." you laughed along.

wonwoo;s head turned towards you direction, his water in his hands. his eyes locked on your smile as you talked to joshua, wondering what he said that made you laugh. "uh oh, someones jealous." dokyeom joked, putting his hand on wonwoo's shoulder.

"no i'm not, i'm just checking in on her." wonwoo dismissed quietly, his eyes still locked on you.

joshua sat next to you, scrolling through his phone while you two talked. wonwoo watched from the distance, he was quiet but his mind was speaking a million words a minute. he never asked about who you liked, or if you had a partner; he kept it to himself. wonwoo knew that you and joshua were close, and even friends for a longer amount of time. he knew that you two went to high school together, and that you would come visit whenever you were able to. just this last year you moved to korea to be closer to your high school best friend.

"hey shua," you said, catching joshua's attention, "do you know if wonwoo is seeing anyone?"

joshua was caught off guard, "whoa, wait... do you like wonwoo?" joshua replied.

"oh nevermind, i shouldn't of asked." you replied quickly, hiding your face in your knees.

joshua chuckled, "oh don't be embarassed, i promise you he is as single as single can be." he joked.

everyone was called back to finish up the last 30 minutes of practice. once they ran through ss many songs as they could, they called the end of practice.

everyone gathered their things, and all made their way out of the building. you and joshua walked together, discussing what you asked eariler. wonwoo walked with mingyu, his mind filled with millions of thoughts. "alright, what's on your mind?" mingyu asked wonwoo, breaking the silence.

"do you know if joshua and yn are... together?" wonwoo asked, his eyes locked on the back of your head.

"uhh, no i don't i just know that they've been friends for a long time." mingyu answered.

"that doesn't help." wonwoo sighed.

mingyu took a second to put two and two together, "oh my god you like yn." mingyu spoke wth excitement.

wonwoo nodded, "well, considering that her and joshua have been friends for a while; i'd say no, but who knows." mingyu shrugged.

----

everyone gathered around the table, food was on the table; enough to basically feed a whole school. you were sat between joshua and wonwoo; wonwoo kept his body turned the other way. "hey woo, can you pass the noodles?" you asked,

no reply.

"woo, can you pass the noodles?" you asked again.

no reply yet again.

"jeon wonwoo can you pass the noodles?" you spoke up, wonwoo's atention instantly to you, grabbing the pot of noodles, "god, what is going on with you today?" you growled.

wonwoo got up, pushing his chair in so then you could get out. "what?" you asked.

"are you coming or not?" wonwoo asked.

seungcheol looked to you two, "what's going on?" seungcheol asked.

"nothing, we'll be back." wonwoo answered as you got up.

you two walked to where you weren't seen by the other members. "ight, are you going to explain?" you questioned.

wonwoo was faced away from you, he was quiet. you repeated your statement once again, but wonwoo kept turned around. "alright if you aren't going to answer, then i'm going to go back to dinner." you said, beginning to make your way back.

you felt him grab your arm, "are you and joshua together?" he asked quietly.

"what?" you asked.

"are you and joshua together?" he asked again, leaving a short pause between each word, his head down.

you couldn't believe what he was asking, "wait? what? where did you get that idea from?" you questioned.

"you two are always so close, and you only moved here because of him. you two have to be dating." wonwoo answered.

"you're joking right? you do know that joshua and i are literal best friends. i don't date my friends, and besides that i like someone else." you laughed softly.

wonwoo was taken back, "i bet it's mingyu."

you sighed with a shake of your head, "no silly, it's you. it's been you." you replied.

[pilfappreciator]

Did another oopsie and accidentally deleted another ask (*bangs head on table*) BUT HOPEFULLY THE LOVELY ANON WHO SENT IT SEES THIS!!

DADZONE & Child! Reader: John Dory

Includes: GN! Reader, Child! Reader, Adopted! Reader, accidental DILF John Dory, slight angst

TW: mention of spiders and body horror near the end (nothing too graphic but just in case)

🥽 This man doesn't trust himself enough not to fuck up another meaningful relationship ://

🥽 Personally, how I see it, becoming a father is probably the last thing on JD's to-do list. I mean he's definitely got the skills (being the oldest of five and having to raise his brothers means he's picked up a few things), and I like to think that it's something he longs for deep down, but considering how BADLY he fumbled with his brothers the last time they were all in the same room...

🥽 So yeah. In theory would be SO down to start a family of his own, but in practice?? He is EXTREMELY hesitant

🥽 THAT BEING SAID!! Chances are he probably found you as an egg

🥽 He was out one day, hiking out in the forest or exploring coastal coves or rock climbing, when all of a sudden he just… stumbles across an egg. Just sitting there in a patch of moss or nestled into a log

🥽 Ends up taking the egg with him back to Ronda, but not before an actual HOUR of confused staring? Distressed pacing back and forth?? Panicked rambling all the while???

🥽 (the fact that Ronda tried to eat the egg upon his return doesn't help at all)

🥽 John Dory spends the next month or so visiting nearby troll villages and asking anyone who crosses his path "Hey man did you drop this? 😬"

🥽 In the end he decides to take you in himself. Partly because he's gotten tired of all the looks other trolls keep giving him for trying to force an egg into their hands, and also because he… may have grown attached to said egg in the past few weeks. I mean by the end of day 3 he'd already given you a name so you know he's screwed ahsjkakaa

🥽 He tells himself he's taking you in because it's what any good citizen would do (He is a lair. He is 100% doing it for himself)

🥽 The day you hatch is LITERALLY one of the best days of his life? Like he's just making himself some dinner and suddenly he hears crackling coming from his hair?? And then there's babbling???

🥽 This man is going about his day with you nestled in his hair (basically the troll equivalent to carrying a baby on your hip lol). He's choppin trees, foraging for food, and driving his armadillo van all while he's got an actual egg sitting on his head. Absolutely talks to you the whole time, too. He has no idea if you can actually hear him but like.. this man spent the last 20 years all alone in the woods, okay, his ass is lonely :((

🥽 Yknow that thing parents do where they hold up headphones to a woman's womb and play Mozart or whatever to make the baby "smarter" or some shit?? Yeah that's JD. He's doing the same thing to his egg

🥽 no Mozart tho ONLY BROZONE 😤😤 HIS BABY HAS GOTTA HAVE GOOD TASTE AND NOTHING LESS

🥽 If he's really feeling himself then he'll sing the songs himself. And then proceed to give unprompted lore behind the lyrics and the songs "true meaning" (songs include Brozone classics such as Baby Boy Got My Heart In A Headlock Boy and Baby Baby Love You Like A Pizza But Hate You Like There's Pineapple On It Babe)

🥽 "holy crap YOU'RE SO SMALL—"

🥽 UGLY CRYING HOLDING YOU IN THE CROOK OF HIS ARM CARESSING YOUR SOFT LITTLE FACE WITH HIS FINGER

🥽 Will die if you reach for him with your tiny baby hands or just smile up at him

🥽 He's still gonna carry you around in his hair while he goes about his day and stuff ngl. Like for him, it's a signature of your guys' bond and you bet your ass he's gonna be milking it for as long as he can (definitely dreads the day you become too big/old for it)

🥽 Most definitely tries to teach you survival skills as soon as possible. He's teaching you how to fish, he's demonstrating how to start a fire with the bare essentials, he's letting you DRIVE RONDA—

🥽 "It's an important skill to have, champ, trust me!"

"...but I'm only five."

"Never too early for a learner's permit!"

🥽 Defnitely tries to reel in that controlling/perfectionist mindset of his, at least for your sake. The last thing he wants is a repeat of what went down with his brothers. As a result he's probably more lenient when you get into trouble or do something wrong

🥽 Fr tho like... you'll accidentally(?) cause an explosion and his ass will be standing, hands on his hips like "I'm not mad, just disappointed 🤨"

🥽 You thought you were getting spoon fed Brozone content as an egg?? Well congrats on being born cuz now you're getting served Brozone content for BREAKFAST 👏 DINNER 👏 AND 👏 LUNCH

🥽 JDs most definitely the type of guy to break into song whenever he's doing the most mundane of tasks (laundry, cooking, cleaning, etc), and yes he fully expects you to join in and know all the lyrics helloooo?? You've basically been raised on Brozone songs at this point like cmon, don't leave him hanging!

🥽 FR THO!! If you grow up to be a Brozone stan, he's never gonna be more proud of himself <33

🥽 This man definitely has a physical collection of every song/album/cover his band has ever done (I'm mean this is the same guy who kept his brothers underwear in a frame for 20 years so ://). He treats every CD, record, cassette tape, etc. like the priceless artifacts they are and YES, HES GONNA PASS THEM ONTO YOU LIKE THEYR FAMILIY HEIRLOOMS DID YOU EXPECT ANY LESS

🥽 If you grow up to lean more towards a different genre of music or Brozone just doesn't end up being your cup of tea... JDs gonna be a lil devastating ngl

�� Pls assure him that he has not failed as a father

🥽 Jokes aside tho! I feel like despite his wounded ego, JD will at least TRY to see your point of view. I mean he's definitely gonna be a bit of a grandpa about it—

*while the two of you are listening to your favorite song*

"I mean, I GUESS it's okay... not nearly as lyrically genius as Brozone's hit single: Baby Girl Ur Sweet Like A Milkshake Girl But I'm Lactose Intolerant Baby 🙄"

"Dad. Please shut up."

—but rest assured that he WILL support you and your music taste <33

🥽 You want merch of your favorite band/artist? No worries he's (stealing it right off the shelf) got money to pay for it! Is there a new album about to drop? He's (breaking into a store in the middle of night like a rabid racoon) patiently waiting in line just to buy it for you! You wanna go to a concert? He's using Ronda to (break speed limits, run people over, disobey every known traffic rule) get good parking at the venue!!

🥽 SPEAKING OF CONCERTS!! I feel like he'd be able to offer solid advice on the do's and don'ts of attending a concert. Like... my guy was in a popular band back in the day and he knows first hand how outta hand concerts can get. He has SEEN some shit ajskskaka

🥽 JD definitely has a photo album full of pictures from back in the day. Some of them are snapshots of him and the rest of Brozone, but a majority of the pictures are just of him and his family— away from the stage and cameras. Just him and his brothers and grandma Rosiepuff too...

🥽 He remembers the exact moment every picture was taken, and he'll tell you every bit of context. Birthday, pranks gone wrong, holidays, first day of school— there's a snapshot for just about every milestone. All you have to do is ask and JD is more than happy to relay every childhood anecdote he can remember

🥽 It gets to the point where you eventually know just about everything about your uncles... WHO YOU HAVE NEVER EVEN MET YET AKSKSKAKAK

🥽 It's definitely something that freaks them out once you finally DO meet them

🥽 Like you'll have a conversation with Clay and they'll be like "yeah I'm not a big fan of spiders haha" and you just go "Oh that makes sense considering you used to have vivid nightmares about them crawling under your skin and tickling you to death" and Clay's just like "how the fuck did you know that????"

🥽 "Dude stop telling your kid everything about us"

"I haven't seen you guys in 20 years! I just wanted them to feel close to their uncles ;(("

"THEY DONT NEED TO KNOW ABOUT HOW I USED TO PICK MY NOSE WHEN I WAS SEVEN"

🥽 John Dory, Older Brother Who Overshares About His Younger Siblings my beloved <33

Ermmm yeahhhh this was originally gonna be one big post including ALL the brothers... but then I started writing for JD and got carries away... so yeah this ask is gonna have to be a multi-parter AJSJSJAKKA SORRY ANON I COULDN'T HELP MYSELF 🤥

NEXT PARTS ARE IN THE WORKS!!

Bruce | Clay | Floyd | Branch

[yonpote]

ok heres how i split up the dnp eras (loosely based on dan's timeline in his interview w anthony)

2009-2011: the Sillies era :3 dan refered to it as being a dumb teen just posting cuz he was bored, which is like, thats what all of youtube culture was at this time. they met and like fell in love or whatever you know the lore dont you. phil moved from his parents home to his first apartment in manchester, and dan technically moved to uni but really he moved into phil's apartment to take advantage of his washing machine and ps1 and. yknow. other stuff. they officially moved in together in 2011 yippee hooray, the phanchester apartment holds a special place in my heart

2012-2013: THE SHIFT. they started getting Serious about youtube as a career, doing more stuff w the radio, superamazingproject started in 2011 but THE SHIFT is very easy to observe when you compare the first season of sap to the last season. ALSO. they were NOT A DOUBLE ACT AND NOT GAY 🙄. it could also be called the No Homo era lmao idk this is when a lot of shitty things were happening wrt leaked information, harassment of their families, and just generally becoming more in the spotlight especially while still in the closet being a horrible experience. but also, they moved to london and got cool opportunities with radio stuff and were starting to actually make a living on this shit.

2014-2016: Peak Dan And Phil™ Era. at the height of their popularity. they realized oh shit, we ARE a double act and not only does everyone enjoy us best as a double act, WE enjoy working together. tabinof, tatinof, dapgo, still doing the radio every month up until they start touring, 7 second challenge app, gamingmas, what the hell DIDNT they do during this time period (what they didnt do was uhh take care of themselves and not overwork and not blur their work and personal lives so much to the point where they felt like the whole apartment was a film set.)

2017-2018: Gay Softlaunch Era (aka post-baking aka glass closet) the baby steps toward authenticity, moved to the double apartment to separate work and life, ii's whole theme, dan talking abt depression, phil getting the quiff, both of them being gay as hell in every way other than saying it explicitly. important things of note: TRUTH BOMBS dropped, Interactive Introverts happened, still uploading gaming vids and honestly by the end you could feel their fatigue. and then they hiatused dapg.

2019-2022: ok these four years each feel like whole eras in themselves, but also theres an overarching theme. THE GAY ERA.

2019: im gonna futher split this year in half. first half- dad left to buy milk so other dad is taking care of us. rough six months for dannies im sure. important phil thing of note- he changed his film set from his "bedroom" to a fairly basic but cute shelf backdrop. honestly prob didnt wanna keep pretending that was his bedroom considering.... second half- DAN AND PHIL GAY. dan uploads his magnum opus. phil comes out via tweet. they go to japan and its really gay and it's The Trip to japan for them like yes they first went in 2015 and again in 2023, but Japhan 2.0 Was The One. what does this mean? proposal? anniversary? idk exactly but it was gay as hell dude and theyve talked about that trip with such love in their hearts.

2020: Phandemic (sorry that was bad) but also where tf is dan again? even with the big C-word happening, it was business as usual for phil, regular vids but make em gayer, caught a pigeon nbd, and end of the year introduces the Stereo app show Phil and Phriends where he's had chats with pj, louise, his brother, seth everman?????, and finally. dan reappears. they reveal that they bought and FULLY PLANNED a house together and are ready to move!

2021: they don't move house for another like six months! basically their house was (and is??) still being worked on AND they were in lockdown AND turns out at the end of last year, they were kicked from their Life apartment and were now living in the Work apartment so you can imagine what all of this can do to their psyche and lowkey they were getting sick of each other like it wasnt just bordering on phivorce it was nearly Phurder. Phidow. but to fill the time so that DOESNT happen, my favorite fucking thing ever happens: Lockdown Lads (and all the other names). the first taste of what a dnp podcast would sound like, with the added bonus of chaotic listener interaction. oh yeah also dan wrote a mental health guide book whatever (IM KIDDING I REALLY LIKE YWGTTN I WROTE LIKE TWO REVIEWS ON IT NOW) and they finally become Homosexual Homeowners. theres quite a bit more dnp content this year, dan being on phils channel a bit more, the phodcasts, dan's gay and not proud special.... oh yeah and hometown showdown i guess AND TEXT VIDEO 2!!! my favorite and my namesake!!!!!!!

2022: Prophecy Year..... but they didnt get married. dan returns with another longass video to say: hey i hate being a youtuber and also youtube majorly fucked me over. but also fuck that im gonna do a weird talk show and ALSO GO ON TOUR WITH THIS APOCALYPSE THEME! phil actually... slows down this year. more dan uploads than phil somehow??? but also Dan Is Leaving me is posted and i go completely insane and become the deranged individual you see today. WHICH FINALLY LEADS US TOOOOOO

2023-present: The Unhinged Era. dan's tour was a huge Emotional success for him but uh not without its hiccups due to management and all that and i think he and phil finally realize. Fuck It Who Cares. dan flies back to england FROM AUSTRALIA to make sure he can be with his future ex-husband on his birthday. CAKE HEART EMOJI. YELLOW PLAID SHACKET. they go on a gamer date and post a picture of playing footsies in a cab. THE PHUDE HAPPENS. they go to japan again and while this one will never be The One it was still a well earned holiday this time with bryony! and they took a bunch of very cute film camera pictures.... THIS IS ALL JUST THE FIRST HALF OF 2023 BTW. in phil news, he talks about going to therapy and figuring out how to manage his anxiety!!!! he changes his hair again!! he hires an editor, phan is his otp, he teases about the gaming channel a couple of times but so many of us already dropped any hope of that returning- OH WAIT WHAT THE FUCK?!!!? HUH!??!? they returned, and more chaotic than ever before. the gayness upped to the max, the Weirdness on full speed, the Horniness at Very Scary Levels Oh God Stop Talking About Dogging, phil can swear uncensored now???? and this energy has continued into today...

[miguel-owhora]

Something like one day Miguel assigns you some task and in the process you encounter a variation of his and you completely forget about your mission, then Miguel has to go look for you because enough time has passed, only to find you half unconscious and very stupid, with clear signs that another Miguel fucked you.

I was actually hooked on your idea idk idk

TYPE — drabble

SYNOPSIS — what anon said

WARNINGS — 18+ , cheating but is it really cheating if it's a variant of your husband , cunnilingus , squirting , implied multiple orgasms/milking

FEM-ALIGNED READERS AND MINORS DNF, YOU WILL BE BLOCKED.

COMMENTS AND REBLOGS ARE HEAVILY APPRECIATED.

TAGS — @sweetcorpse , @tophamhat-kyo , @villainousdelicacy , @realitylemon , @gayaristocrat , @gaynesspersonified

MORE — this idea literally has me foaming and slamming inside my cage

This version of your home world isn't unusual. It's literally a couple years from '99, a couple years back into the past. Nothing unusual, nothing uncommon from your current year back in your original timeline. Swinging around your city is nice, the sky dark with the city lights polluting the night sky, preventing you from seeing the stars - that is, you never really did see them, unless if you went to the moon station. But that was only ever a privilege you got once you were older.

You spent majority of your youth in the underground part of Nueva York, living in the dark with only the city lights as the sun. You only ever stepped out whenever you wanted to rebel and when you went to college, and only ever moved out of the underworld - the name many called the underground of NY - when you got with Miguel. Bless his heart, as much as you adored your husband and how many years you've been living on the nicer side of NY - that is in looks, but just barely - you would always favor the underworld. You found that despite the reputation it earned, the people were always more real and down to earth than the people living overhead.

You shook yourself out of your thoughts and just barely swerved out of the way before you hit a pole. You swung yourself up and landed on top of a skyscraper of a building, landing in what many would dub the classic spider pose. You peered over the edge of the building, overlooking the city in all its glory. Nueva York, as a whole, no matter how corny you would sound right now, would forever hold a special place in your heart. The people, the food, the diverse mixture of culture and background - that's what made Nueva York, Nueva York: just a clusterfuck of everyone and everything.

After a solid couple seconds of surveying everything you raised your hand to look at your goober - despite what Miguel tried to get everyone to say, it was a goober at the end of the day, a damn watch if you want to be simple about it - and began to type in it. You read over the mission Miguel gave you, just a simple 'catch an anomaly and go home' type of mission It wasn't one of those big bad villains, just some guy. Didn't even have a name.

You snorted to yourself as you lowered your arm and stretched, grunting as one or two of your bones popped pleasantly, blood flooding back to wherever it needed to go.

"I didn't know we had a Spider-Man."

The sound of Miguel's voice nearly has you falling off the building, and hadn't it been for your ability to stick to surfaces, you would've been a splat of flesh on the floor. You whipped around, startled, and found yourself looking at your husband.

...Future husband, as this Miguel isn't - first of all - your Miguel and younger than the early thirties man you knew and love. But it was still technically your husband. Technically. Unless if this was one of those world's where you didn't go overhead and stayed in the underworld, or something along those lies, somewhere where you never met Miguel.

This Miguel of Earth-547, Miguel-547, was younger than your Miguel, a bit more youthful, but no less handsome. Perhaps in his twenties, with the telltale signs of a lack of sleep on the heavy eyebags underneath his dark eyes, perhaps from studying so much. The thought has you almost snorting but you caught yourself as you stepped down from the railing of the building, looking over at Miguel with a slight tilt of your head.

"You don't. Not yet, at least." You replied, eyeing him with keen interest, mission forgotten.

Miguel raises an eyebrow, looking unimpressed. You shake your head, snorting in amusement. He's Miguel, he's your husband, just like when he was younger, back when you first met him, back when you first roomied with him against your will.

"Who are you?" Miguel asks, and you can see the regret written across his face. This time, it makes you laugh, both at his face and at the question.

"That's.. that's stupid. Nevermind." Miguel mutters, face darkening in embarrassment as he lightly pouted - frowned, whatever, he has the same face for both feelings - and looked away. It's such a Miguel thing to do that you choke and cough, laughing, and wiping away tears that never meet your fingers, not with your mask covering your face.

"I'd tell you my name but..." You rolled your shoulders, placing your hands on your waist. "I think Miguel would get mad at me for revealing my identity, even if it's just my name. I don't want to mess with any canon event. You know how it is."

"I don't." Miguel replied, glancing back at you with a confused expression. "And Miguel? That's.. that's my name. I'm guessing you mean somebody else? And canon ev- what the shock are you even talking about?"

Oh the irony, you thought to yourself. "Something like that, sure, and it's a long story."

Miguel pursed his lips and gave you a look. You grinned behind your mask, the lenses to your mask squinting at him.

"But I can offer you something better."

This got Miguel's attention and you chuckled, still grinning. Gotcha.

Which is how you ended up in Miguel's dorm room, stuffed between his legs and eating at his pussy. His legs hold you firmly between strong thighs, keeping you trapped and stuffing your face into pussy - not that you minded of course. It's your favorite past time, and why would you deny yourself the opportunity to eat your man's cunt like it's your last meal? You'd be a fool not to.

Miguel's voice is breathless and whimpery, a hand holding the back of your face as he shamelessly grinded against your mouth. He arched his back and squeezed his thighs when your mouth attached to his swollen cock, sucking on the sensitive nub. Your tongue dipped into his hole as you felt him tremble and moan, incomprehensible words of praise and encouragement tumbling from his mouth as he came inside your mouth.

He tried to push you away once his climax passed over, but you didn't budge, merely using your enhanced strength to grab onto his thighs and gently push them down. The position made him even more open and gave you even more access to the sweet, delicious slick that poured out of him, which you didn't dare let a spare a single drop and eagerly slurped up.

"Hah - ca- shock! - cálmate, pinche perro!" Miguel moaned, his thighs tensed and twitching as he danced between pushing your head away and humping into your mouth. He moved when you slipped into two fingers and began to move them, thrusting them in and out of his pussy with a certain expertise that came with someone who's done this before, and sucked on his cock.

Whatever you did, however you learned it, was enough to rip an unexpected orgasm from Miguel that had no buildup and caught him off guard. Even moreso when he felt liquid shoot from his pussy and he went unbelievably warm, but shock, if it didn't make him stomach flutter. His cheeks darkened when he heard you obscenely slurp, drinking whatever liquid he squirted out.

"What - what the shock was that?!" Miguel breathed out after you finally pulled away with a pop. Miguel felt something hot and possessive curl in his stomach when he saw the bottom half of your face - the only thing you dared to show him, the upper part of your face was hidden by the mask you wore - was dripping wet with his fluids. He watched as you licked your lips; and Miguel swallowed.

"You squirted," You said calmly, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. You pulled your fingers away from his pussy and plopped them into your mouth, cleaning them of whatever slick coated it, and Miguel stared with wide eyes.

He slowly blinked and looked away, beyond flustered.

"I never knew I could do that." Miguel muttered, panting.

"Well now you do, use it wisely." You replied, amused, lips curled into a teasing grin. Miguel rolled his eyes, but not unkindly. Your eyes flickered from his face down to the rest of his body and over to the lower half. His pussy was slick and swollen, the dark hair neatly trimmed, looking and smelling and tasting absolutely delicious. That never did change about him, did it? You could spend all eternity between his legs, eagerly doting on his cunt.

You snapped out of your thoughts with a little grunt as Miguel suddenly hauled you off the ground and onto his bed, flat on your back. The lenses of your mask widened and your mouth went dry when Miguel swung himself over your lap, straddling you. Your hands instinctively fell onto his waist, so small and holdable, and nervously giggled, licking your lips that suddenly felt too dry.

"What's - what's all this about?" You asked, flustered. Miguel seemed to pick up on this and smiled, a little dangerous, a little fond. He slowly rolled his hips down, eyes gleaming when you softly moaned, your cock, hard in your suit, eagerly responding to some stimulation.

"Just a little treat. You ate me out..." Miguel's hand reached down to grab a hold of your cock, rubbing it through the material of your spandex. "...So I'll let you hit."

"Fuck." You whispered, breathless. Miguel just chuckled, eyes dark and smile dangerous in the way that made you fall in love all over again.

-

"Have you checked on [Name], Miguel?"

The sound of his AI's voice is enough to rip Miguel's attention from the holograms in front of him. His eyes feel dry as he gives a couple of blinks, vision straining from having stared at screens for so long. It takes a couple of heartbeats before Miguel could process Lyla's question and gave her a questioning look as she hovered near him.

"What?" He asked, intelligently, and totally not in a dumb way.

Lyla rolled her eyes, exasperated. "[Name]? Your husband? The one you sent on a mission?"

It was Miguel's turn to roll his eyes. "I know the name of my husband. Why are you asking if I checked up on him? He's reliable, he'll get the job done."

Lyla smirked in the way that told Miguel she knew something he didn't and could already feel his heart dropping to his stomach.

"What's wrong?" Miguel demanded, immediately on alert, his mind beginning to creep with different scenarios that made him stomach twist uncomfortablely.

"Nothing's wrong. He's fine, he's not hurt." Lyla paused and gave him a look over her heartshaped glasses. "He's just neglecting his duties for a variant."

Miguel processed the words and paused, eyebrow raising. "Variant?"

Lyla just smirked even wider, glitching and moving somewhere else, teasing. A set of coordinates appeared on Miguel's watch.

"Why don't you check it out?" Lyla chuckled, stuffing her hands into her pockets. "But just go alone, alright?"

Miguel didn't know if he wanted to strangle Lyla or himself. He wasn't sure if he wanted to know.

He took a deep breath and rubbed his temple. He could already feel the telltale sign of a migraine appearing, and no, his lack of sleep did NOT contribute to it.

"Lyla, open a portal." He eventually sighed out, dragging a hand over his face to get rid of any drowsiness.

"You got it, boss."

The orange and colorful portal appeared in front of Miguel, lighting up his dark lab in a warm color, changing the texture of the area around it. Miguel took a moment to appreciate it, a moment to gather himself, before throwing himself in the portal.

He knew the world he sent you to was one of your guy's timelines. Just a couple years back into the past, nothing crazy. The whole mission was a simple one, even a newbie could've done it. He knew you could handle more, obviously, but the thought of you getting hurt, of losing you, that frightened Miguel. It scared him. And while he knew you'd get tired of basic missions like the one he assigned you, he wouldn't budge. Well, at least not now.

But he didn't think he'd end up in a rather familiar dormroom. Specifically, his old dorm room, in his bedroom. Familiar posters line the walls, little figurines scattered around, his old desk lined next to his bed and scattered with messy shit. It's nostalgic, and for a second, Miguel imagines himself as his fresh out of high school guy barely entering his college years.

What's out of place, however, is the body of his husband laying on his bed. He's not dead, thankfully, Miguel's eyes catching sight of the slow rise and fall of his chest, and if anything, seems to be half out of it.

His mask is pulled halfway up, from his nose and down being the only thing revealed. His lips are slick and bit, light bruises on his jaw. The pants of his spandex are pulled down far enough to reveal his cock, which lays heavy and flaccid on his stomach, and yet...

Miguel's cheeks darkened and his lips pursed when he saw the dried evidence of cum on your belly and cock. Miguel pixelated his mask away, sighing out of exasperation, even if his core squirmed in a familiar way.

Miguel walked the short steps towards his bed and hovered over you, taking in your frazzled and obviously worn out appearance. Miguel reached down and gently grasped your jaw, tilting your head to get a better look at you.

He was surprised when you softly groaned, squirming as you seemed to awake up.

"Miguel?" You slurred out, and Miguel then realized his variant must've had his time with you.

"[Name,] ready to head back home?" Miguel questioned, his voice quiet but a faint hint of affection tinting his words. Perhaps he should be jealous that a variant got to his husband, but he can't find it in himself. If anything, it was... kind of hot. But that was another thing for another time.

"Mm? Home.... wait-" You stirred a little, becoming just the slightest bit alert. "Which dimension?"

Miguel made a little exasperated face even if you couldn't see. "928."

You went slack, pleased with the answer. "Mkay, le's go h'me..." You slurred before promptly knocking yourself out. Miguel stared before slowly setting your head down. He gently pulled your mask down and stuffed yourself back into your spandex before scooping you up.

"Lyla-" He began but was caught off by the AI, who glitched into existent.

"He looks kind of cute. You're, like, his knight in shining armor - or would it be spider in shining armor?" Lyla mused as she took a couple mixtures of the husbands. Miguel didn't dignify her with a response as a portal opened up, illuminating the room in a warm colorful glow. Then, a thought crossed his mind and he paused.

"Did he even finish his mission?" Miguel asked Lyla, even if he knew the answer.

"Absolutely not." Lyla grinned.

Miguel took a deep breath but didn't get angry - he never did get angry with you, now did he?

"Send someone to finish it." Miguel asked as he slipped through the portal, his AI glitching out of air. Missions he damned, he had his own mission now: giving you the aftercare his variant failed to do, which, in his opinion, made him the best variant out there.

all rights reserved © miguel-owhora

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

I saw this

https://youtu.be/LGMIJ-UWnZY

And thought it'd be hilarious for some reactions/headcanons from twisted wonderland characters as reader and a friend or someone drink ridiculous amounts of eggnog (if eggnog isn't good then a similar heavy beverage) while they kinda just act silly. Just absolutely losing their minds as they try to out eggnog their competitor. Whether their competitor/friend is one of the characters from twisted wonderland or just some fellow is up to you. Honestly, i just like how you write and want to read more so it doesn't even have to be twisted wonderland. I'm really not that particular about the fandom or which characters you choose cause i like em all and i just wanna read more of your writing cause it's really good

No pressure of course, it's just a silly little thought

I really appreciate that! 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Drinking Games | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

This whole scenario sounds like the work of a certain idiot-duo

Getting ahold of Twisted Wonderland’s version of eggnog 

Supposedly the grossest thickest most disliked drink they could get their hands on

And then hosting a competition to see who could drink the most of it

“And what do we get if we beat ya?”

“A��.full week spent in Ramshackle….Unsupervised!”

“I didn’t agree to that!” 

“That’s…an appealing prize.”

“One I didn’t agree to!”

“I ACCEPT THIS CHALLENGE!”

“I DIDN’T APPROVE OF THIS AT ALL!”

First years only it’s already worrisome because more than likely than not they get real competitive 

And they have a hard time knowing when to stop

“Um do you guys maybe want to…take a break? You’re all looking a little green in the face.”

“BURP! NEVER…Oh I just–I CAN HANDLE ANOTHER.”

“Please…I got this! Slide that cup on over!”

“Y’all abuncha snowflakes can’t handleagallon o’ ‘is if ya tried!”

“This calls for an intense work out…..later. BRAP! Sorry.”

“Ugh…..”

“This stuff is gross Nya! I’d much rather have a big bowl of milk!”

Imagine how much worse it gets when the dormheads find out 

They’ll scold them 

And then turn right around and have too much evidence that they have a higher record than the others

“I’m only showing you if anyone should have such a prize it would go to me.”

“Because you have records that you had 50 cups?”

“Yes.”

“Thanks Riddle but I wasn’t actually going to let anyone stay over.”

“Hmmm I wonder if the more unruly will actually listen to your wishes?”

Sigh ”Don’t remind me! Floyd’s been telling me he’ll move himself in any day now.”

“Tsk. It would probably best to have me over than….just to protect your peace of course.”

It’s best to ‘reward all of them in some way shape or form

Otherwise you’ll just have to get used to being dragged and possibly made the prize of competitions you had no idea was happening 

“Hooray!” 

“Uh hi Lilia you look happy.”

“Of course I am! I won your entire weekend with our wreath making contest.”

“Wait what?!”

“I was thinking we’ll start with a picnic, then we can jam with the band, and then I can go through your closet!”

Usually things won’t get too violent…..usually

[derangedsynthpop]

because barbie

written for @bucktommywinterfest Halloween warm up round

prompt: couples costumes

rated: T

tags: halloween costumes, horny buck, smitten tommy, banter

word count: 824

[read below or on AO3]

Summary:

Buck and Tommy try to figure out what to wear to a 118 Halloween party.

***

"I am not wearing that."

"What? Aw, c'mon, Tommy. Please?" Buck tilts his chin down to look at Tommy through his lashes with a pout.

"Absolutely not. And put those sad puppy eyes away, Evan, they won't change my mind."

"Okay, fine," Buck huffs. Taking one more look at the picture on his phone, he frowns, silently mourning what could have been, and shuts the screen off. "Then what would you suggest?"

They're sitting cross-legged on his bed, facing each other, and trying to decide what to wear to the Halloween party Bobby and Athena are throwing at their new house. Buck feels like they've been going back and forth over it for hours, when in actuality, it's only been about ten minutes.

"Okay," Tommy grins wickedly, doing that little excited wiggle he does that Buck adores. "You already know I have the whole get-up to do Han Solo..."

Buck raises an eyebrow at that, instantly intrigued. "And who would I be?"

"Well, I think you would look really hot in a slave Leia costume."

The images that Buck's mind conjures has blood rushing to his face and his heartrate skyrocketing. "I, um-- Uh, wow," he says a bit breathlessly. "I... wow."

Tommy laughs, cupping Buck's face in his hands. He gives Buck a quick peck on the lips. "Did I break your brain?"

"Mhm."

"You know I wouldn't actually ask you to wear that in front of your friends and family, right? Unless you really wanted to."

Buck breaks out of his daze to say, "Hey, they're your friends and family, too, Tommy."

Tommy gives him another quick kiss. "I know. I just also knew phrasing it like that would get your brain back to the present."

Buck rolls his eyes affectionately. "Okay. So, I'm definitely not wearing a slave Leia costume. Outside of sexy time, that is. And, I don't know... Princess Leia, or even General Leia, just isn't sparking anything."

"Bee and bee keeper?"

"Too soon."

"Milk and cookies?"

"Too cliche."

"Shaggy and Scooby?"

"Too many invasive questions about our sex life."

"Ghostbusters?"

"Ehhh..."

Tommy sighs. "Evan, we have to pick something in the next few days or we'll be the only ones without costumes."

"Ughhhh," Buck groans, dropping his head back. "Why is this so haaarrd?" His head shoots back up. "Oh! Hard! Maybe sex will help me think."

Buck reaches for Tommy's pants, but Tommy grabs his wrist. "No. No sex until we figure something out."

"Oh, you are evil."

Tommy grins big, his eyes crinkling and nose scrunching up all adorable, taking Buck's hand and bringing it to his lips. Buck is helpless against that smile, blushing as he returns a small smile of his own. "Angel and devil?" Tommy asks, and kisses Buck's knuckles.

"May...be...? It's a solid contender, at the very least."

"Alright!" Tommy claps his hands together. "Finally, we're getting somewhere."

"Ooh, one of us could be the Rubber Man from American Horror Story." Buck waggles his eyebrows, biting his lip as he looks Tommy up and down.

Tommy gives him a look. "What was that about too many question about our sex life?"

"Relax, Babe, I was kidding." Buck pats Tommy's leg. Then he grins, and adds, "Mostly."

"Brat."

Buck sticks his tongue out, like the mature adult he is. Tommy flicks the tip of his nose, then kisses it to soothe the slight sting.

"Okay, well what about pirates? Cowboys?" Tommy asks.

"Hmm, I was a cowboy for the Haunt Fest. I don't want to just repeat that. But you in assless chaps? Yes, please."

"Evan."

"What?"

"You're picturing me in assless chaps, a cowboy hat, and nothing else, aren't you?"

"Absolutely," Buck says like it would be ridiculous to think otherwise.

Tommy shakes his head, a fond look on his face.

"Cop and robber?" Buck suggests. "I'll let you cuff me."

Tommy quirks a brow. "Like you don't already?"

Buck snickers. "Okay, okay. For real this time. Um, what about... Oh! Barbie and Ken. In their cowgirl and cowboy oufits."

"I thought you didn't want to be a cowboy again? What makes this any different?"

"Because Barbie."

"Alright," Tommy raises his hands in surrender. "But why not Ken and Ken?"

"Why would be both be Ken?"

"Because... we're both men?"

"Tommy," Buck looks at him like he's grown a second head. "It's Barbie and Ken, not Ken and-- Wow. Nope. No. That came out all wrong. I sound like a homophobe."

Tommy laughs. "We could be Alan and Ken."

"So you don't want to see me in a sparkly hot pink cowgirl outfit?"

"I--" Tommy starts, stopping abruptly, his cheeks heating. "I don't not want to see you in a sparkly hot pink cowgirl outfit."

"So... Barbie and Ken?" Buck gives a sly smile.

Tommy nods in agreement. "Barbie and Ken it is."

"And... sex now?"

Tommy bursts out laughing, grabbing Buck's face to kiss him. "Yes, baby, sex now."

"Yeehaw!"

[doll3tt33]

୨ৎ Kai Anderson SFW headcanons

Gonna start doing headcanons for the evans in between making bots cuz I’m bored lol. If you ever wonder how I perceive these characters while I make bots, then here you go!

A handful of these are just plain observations and maybe to some these are clear as day, but idk imma still include them either way

Warnings: misogyny.. duh, loaaads of Reddit mentions

• This might be indisputably obvious, but I feel like some ppl think of Kai as someone who always plans 10 steps ahead, which I personally don’t think so

Yes, he does have a goal in mind, but a lot of his “next moves” are just ideas that came to him in a fleeting moment. Of course, he’ll act as if he totally knew what he was doing this whole time, even though he was def freestyling 💀

I feel like calling him out on his lack of meticulous planning would be an absolute jab to his ego, and he’ll deny it big time

• Kai is the embodiment of what it means to be a pseudo-intellectual 😭😭. Like he isn’t stupid at all, no doubt about that (mans manipulated crowds). But his arrogant attitude, his shameless use of fallacies, AND the fact he’s a walking contradiction - all while trying to act like he’s the smartest guy in the room?? Bye-

Again, I think he’s smart but don’t tell me he doesn’t act like your average pseudo-intellectual guy who’d mansplain 24/7

• His tolerance to spicy food is actually weak, but he pretends like it isn’t. He could be coughing his lungs out from the tiniest hint of spice in his food, but he would refuse to drink a glass of milk to cool down. HES A MAN

• This is already kinda a given, but mans speech mannerisms is literally like the average Reddit comment section ((iykyk

I also feel like a rant he posted online has been made into a copypasta at some point lol

• Speaking of Reddit.. whenever he gets into an argument with another user on there (most likely a politically charged one), he’ll downvote every existing comment from that user and will proceed to do it to any of their future comments by keeping tabs on their account, all out of sheer spite

• He likes weird porn genres. Idk which ones exactly, but I just know they be really specific

• Says he likes submissive, obedient women whose sole existence is to serve him. But at the same time, he can’t stand people he deems as vapid, and would dispose of them once he begins to see them as more of a liability than an asset (especially if they’re just THAT annoying). He definitely would rather keep someone around who has more substance

• Kai would play devil’s advocate for any corrupt figure you could think of. He’s like… that guy

• This is also a given, but I’d like to stress that people don’t know how r/theredpill was his holy bible. The Kai we know today has applied all the must-know tips to his entire character and mastered the arts of misogyny 101

Oh and he has a bunch of motivational posts saved from there, and he rereads the crap out of them each time a “fEmAle” would piss him off

• If you knew Kai prior to his cult and were genuinely nice to him, he’d definitely have a teensy-weensy soft spot for you and would avoid killing you ((unless you end up in a situation like winter’s, cuz then…💀

You’d be like the Jean to his Patrick Bateman! 😭

[gene-nine]

pumpkin chai lattes (r.l. x fem!reader)

i felt the slightest chill in the air so it's officially marauder's girl fall.

pairing: remus lupin x reader

synopsis: your Starbucks order becomes remus' guilty pleasure.

warnings: not proofread (what's new!!!) also, not necessarily a warning but I wrote this in bullet-point format because it made more sense in my brain, hope it doesn't ruin the whole thing!

words: 883 (i've been busy, ok?!)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------the first time you brought Remus to a Starbucks, he was confused.

he didn’t even know there were that many ways to make coffee.

to be fair, Hogwarts really only offered black coffee, and the most you could do with it was add cream and sugar if you wanted to. Remus preferred black anyways. 

he’d switch it up sometimes, if he wasn’t in the bitter mood. but one cream and one sugar was all. 

you on the other hand, you like things sweet. 

Remus always teased that there was more sugar and milk in your cup than coffee (he wasn’t far from being wrong). 

you didn’t mind the teasing, however, because you truly loved your sweet, sugary drinks.

Remus’ Starbucks order is always the same. medium dark roast, hot. he refuses to abide by the tall, grande, venti system of sizes. he thinks it’s stupid. 

but, that doesn’t stop him from standing behind you, a hand on your hip affectionately, as you order your fall classic: a grande iced pumpkin chai. 

Remus laughs along when someone calls your drink order basic, but he really finds it endearing. it’s so you. 

you stand with a smile on his face as he pays for the drinks and the vanilla cake pop shaped like a raccoon you insisted on getting as well. 

“i don’t know how you drink that stuff.” he comments as you sip your slightly orange tinted drink, the dome lid holding whipped cream on top. 

“i don’t know how you drink that stuff.” you say in disgust as you nod at his black coffee.

“it’s cheaper and it contains like 80% less sugar.” he defends, taking a long sip just to piss you off. 

“but it tastes badddddd,” you draw out, “just try mine this one time.”

he glances sideways at your cup. “i’d rather not.”

“a little sugar won’t kill you, moons.”

“hey, you don’t know that. i could be a secret diabetic.” you can only roll your eyes at his response, plastering a fake pout on your face as you take another sip of your drink.

“don’t make that face.” remus remarks, looking at you with mock sympathy.

“what face?” you feign innocence.

“if i try your pumpkin spice.. whatever, will you stop looking at me like that?” 

you pass him your drink excitedly as a big smile replaces your pout.

you watch his face intently as he takes a sip, watching him flinch ever so slightly at the sweetness of it. he shrugs as he hands it back to you.

“it’s sweet.” is all he says before taking your hand and walking you out of the starbucks.

now here’s the thing remus would NEVER admit to anyone, maybe not even you. 

he actually liked your drink. 

he couldn’t explain it, all his life it’s been black coffee.

and he probably wouldn’t even consider liking the drink if it wasn’t for you.

when he’d surprise you with starbucks when he picked you up, he’d secretly take a sip or two of yours on the drive over. 

or when you’d leave the room for something, he’d sneak a sip.

the first time you catch him doing it, you’re shocked.

“remus james lupin!” you startle him as you came back from the bathroom sooner than he had been anticipating. his hands freeze in surrender as you catch him red handed.

“i was just- i was wiping the condensation off- it was going to stick to the coaster and then it would fall off when you picked it up and-” he rambles.

“you actually like my order?!” you accuse.

“like is a strong word.” you shoot him a pointed look.

“you’re a weak man, remus lupin.” you shake your head, sitting down on the couch next to him. 

“this stays between us.” remus says, completely serious.

“you’re ridiculous! there’s nothing wrong with liking pumpkin chai.” 

“wrong. there’s everything wrong with liking pumpkin chai.” 

“is it because you’re a man?” you pout in sarcastic sympathy. 

“no it is not because i’m a man, i happen to be very comfortable with my masculinity, thank you very much.” he sasses back. a silence falls over both of you before a giggle escapes your lips.

“what?” remus questions, slightly annoyed but mostly embarrassed.

“you like pumpkin chai.” you say in a sing-song tone, ruffling the hair on remus’ head.

“that’s it, you’re only ever getting black coffee just like me from now on.” he jokes, grabbing your drink and making a break for the kitchen to pour it out. you sprint after him, throwing yourself onto his back to slow him down.

“give it back!” you yell, laughing and reaching desperately for the hand he’s holding your drink in. 

“only if you promise to never mention this to James and Sirius.” he deadpans.

“okay fine, deal.” you exclaim as he finally gives in, setting your cup down on the counter unharmed. you let yourself down from his back and stand in front of him.

“i think it’s very manly that you like pumpkin chai lattes.” you say as you wrap your arms around remus’ neck. his hands find a place around your waist. 

“not a single word to the boys.” he mutters as he leans in to kiss you.

and to your delight, he tastes like pumpkin chai.

[stars-n-spice]

Bad Batch Food Headcanons:

Was having the meal of champions (soju, galbi, and buldak) and it got me thinking,,

So have this collection of random food headcanons:

Crosshair insists he can handle spicy food but he cannot. He's eating hot cheetos and he's fucking crying

Wrecker had to build up a tolerance for spice - he fucking LOVES spicy food ("It's like an explosion in my mouth!!") but couldn't handle it at first. Now he can handle buldak with half of the spice packet!

Hunter and Tech can handle their spice decently but Echo isn't too fond of spicy foods.

Like Wrecker, Omega built up a tolerance to spice, but also like Crosshair she's sensitive to it and will insist that she can handle her spice

Echo is a picky eater. That's like canon. He doesn't care that he's a grown man, he's ordering mac-n-cheese at the fancy restaurant. Deal with it.

Tech is another picky eater but he thrives off instant stuff like ramen or snacks like chips. Man can plow through a whole Costco-sized bag of tortilla chips in one sitting without realizing it.

Hunter has a stomach of steel, he'll eat anything and everything. It's only a matter of REMEMBERING to fucking eat. He'll stand up, nearly faint, then go, "What the hell?" and it's because he hasn't eaten since fucking yesterday.

No Crosshair, an ice coffee is NOT a suitable breakfast. How many times do we have to tell you? And aren't you fucking lactose intolerant???

Oh they love their dinosaur chicken nuggets though - especially Omega and Wrecker. They'll dunk them in ketchup and create a whole murder crime scene.

Omega LOVES soup. Any and all kinds! I think she'd really enjoy udon or 냉면 the most though. The slurp-ier the better!

I feel like Tech is a curry enjoyer. Indian curry, Thai curry, Japanese curry - he loves it all.

Rip Crosshair you would've loved flavored soju 😔

Rip Wrecker you would've loved Korean BBQ and all you can eat sushi

I don't think Hunter likes cold foods. His teeth are sensitive and they hurt when he eats cold stuff like ice cream (no I'm not projecting)

Crosshair likes mint ice cream. Echo likes rocky road. Wrecker enjoys strawberry or sherbert. Omega likes cookie dough. Tech likes caramel or coffee.

Ice cream is like the only kind of "dessert" that Crosshair likes (despite being lactose intolerant) - he doesn't really have a sweet tooth

WAIT CROSSHAIR WHEN I TELL YOU ABOUT BINGSU!!!

SPAM. SPAM. SPAM. Shut up they WOULD eat spam and idc what people say I fucking LOVE spam. Spam is the love of my life, they could never make me hate spam. I used to write parody love songs about spam as a kid. They would enjoy breakfasts of spam, rice, and eggs.

They'd devour the shit out of Mexican food. Like CMON-

Feel like Omega would like fiedo. And Echo too

Wrecker thinks breakfast burritos are godsend - he absolutely loves papas and chorizo

Y'know what would be funny? Echo being a picky eater yet LOVEING Mole. It's not for everyone (I personally like it) but he thinks it's good

Omega has a boba addiction. She has ro have it every week. Her favorites are Taro, Strawberry Matcha, and Honey Milk Tea

Only Hunter and Wrecker like boba; Echo, Crosshair, and Tech find the texture funny but they enjoy the drinks

I feel like Echo is a big bread eater. My sister reminds me a LOT of Echo and she absolutely ADORES bread (she's also a picky eater) - catch him at 85° or Paris Baguette

Hunter would love Soul Food and he also can work a grill

Rip Echo you would’ve loved soba and you would've loved 맥주

Tech actually secretly (not so secretly) has a sweet tooth - he really likes muffins and pies specifically

Omega and Wrecker record "Food Review" videos together

I have,, so many more ideas and whatnot but I'm leaving it here-

Ugh I just,,, I have so many foods I'd love to introduce them too-

[just-another-author-i-guess]

Hi!

Could you do a headcannon of how Judd would act high around his significant other?

I feel like once he is high, he’s a little more soft and shows that a bit more

Yes!! High Judd = soft Judd fr 💪💪

Tags: fem/gn! Reader, erh the gender isn’t really specified but kinda fem? Mentions of weed and smoking it obviously, mentions of sex too bc yk, big mouth, this is probably the fluffiest thing I’ve written with Judd haha, but I was VERY tired and sleep deprived when I wrote this and did not beta read 😵‍💫

Author’s note: I have convinced my friend to start watching big mouth lmfao, and he actually agreed that Judd is hot 💪💪 it’s a win for the boys

High Judd Headcannons

Word count; 1,0K

He has two moods when he’s high 

You’ll either get super horny Judd or super soft Judd 

My personal favourite is soft Judd 

He’s all goofy smiles and cuddling 

Will think everything you say is hilarious too 

“Judd. Your parents are coming up the stairs, I can hear them,” 

He just lets out a cackle, one of those hoarse, drawn-out ones and just doesn’t answer 

It was kinda stupid of you to smoke in his room anyways,, but somehow he convinced you it was a good idea

The more stoned he gets, the more clingy he gets too 

If he’s in horny mode, he’ll obviously just fuck you harder and faster but if he’s in soft mode you’ll get a very unusual treatment 

Though not uncomfortable treatment, he’s just very, very touchy 

Like imagine Diane walking in the hallway upstairs, she walks past Judd’s room and the whole thing obviously smells like pot, so she enters and behold 

There Judd his— cuddling you, grinning while pressing his face into your stomach and leaving small kisses all over 

Not even in a sexual way 

He just loves you pls 🙏

You’re equally as stoned, running your fingers through his hair and complaining about it tickling 

My man LOVES when you tug or run your fingers through his hair, especially when he’s high 

He’ll literally just ask you to do it 

Diane finds the scene so cute she barely bothers scolding you for smoking, again she’s like 

“If you’re gonna do it, at least do it safely under my roof” 

She will call Elliot up, however, to gush over the to of you 

She’ll try to have him do it quietly though, so you won’t notice 

If you do though, happy stoned Judd will genuinely not care 

Like,, he seems to have smoked most of his anger away 

So he won’t even threaten his parents. Wow 🧐

Anyways, you don’t often do it at his house cause like,,, his parents 

But his car is the designated smoking spot

THATS ANOTHER THING 

He LOVES shotgunning you 

Your first kiss was probably bc he shotgunned you 

He was real smooth about it to; 

“Hey. Have you ever tried shotgunning?”

“No?”

“.. would you like to?” 

He’ll do it when he’s just smoking cigarettes too 

Judd really just wants every opportunity to kiss you, and ngl, seeing you exhale smoke makes him hella turned on 

He kinda has an obsession with your stomach when he’s high??? 

Like,, he’d like to lean his head on it and cackle if it makes noise, but ESPECIALLY he likes to splay his hands over it bc you’re genuinely so small compared to him 

And really soft too 

He’ll unabashedly smell you too, like the smell of your shampoo and perfume and shit makes him all lovestruck 

Stoned showers?? 🤭

Like if he’s in horny mode, he’ll definitely be up for a shower 

Seeing you both wet AND naked 

Yes pls. ✋

But like,, also if it’s at your house and you use your body wash and shampoo on him he’ll go 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

Lmfao his family will DEFINITELY comment on it 

Like when he gets home and he smells like strawberry milk and flowers or whatever you use 

He’ll only let you do that when he’s high 

You gotta understand, he has a reputation— 

But, back to my point 

Soft Judd is so straight forward? Will say whatever is on his mind 

But like Judd in general is also really quick to get going, if yk what I mean 

So his soft comments about your smell or how soft you are will turn into something like;

“Sweetheart. D’you wanna sit on my dick for a while or something?” 

Ooooohhh,, soft high Judd has a thing for cockwarming 

I mean, he’s already touchy and sorta horny so you just sitting on him for hours is absolutely perfect 

He’d love watching you wiggle and struggle, red in the face and desperate pleas leaving you as you try to bounce yourself on him 

He would just laugh at your struggles and lightly tell you to stay put, and if you’re really good, he will fuck you later 

He would LOVE to fall asleep with his hard dick inside you 

Just being as close to you as possible 

He’d wake up later tho, not nearly as stoned but is cock still as hard and fuck the living shit out of you 

No okay but soft dom Judd? 😋

He can be stoned without being horny too, but it’s a rare occurance 

You’d smoke in his car and end up on the roof, stargazing 

He claims not to be romantic but when he’s stoned he gets sappy as shit 

“I really fucking love you.” 

He’d mumble into your hair, nuzzling his face into it a little bit 

Aw, you’d melt 

If you return the favor and tell him you love him too he’ll get so embarrassed though 

He’d blush and look away 🥰🥰🥰🤭🤭

I feel like he’s always some level of stoned though 

So he’d have to be really really high for him to be able to open up like that 

Fr it happens only like once every other full moon 

Obviously he does love you, his mom is always on his ass about it telling him to tell you more often lol 

When he comes down he’ll sleep for like days 

Okay maybe that’s exaggerating a bit,, but he’ll be so fast asleep you’ll worry if he died lmfao 

And he’s so groggy when he wakes up too 

If you’re less affected, he’ll definitely expect you to coddle him and bring him food or something 

But if you’re more or the same as him, you’ll just spend the day in his bed 

Taking turns sleeping and fucking 

Idc no matter how tired he is, being in his bed means sex at some point 

Also his mom is an actual life saver and will bring the two of you snacks and food 

(I love Diane ok) 

This, however, is only if you get really fucking stoned 

I feel like usually he would just act like himself, maybe a bit less tense and a lot more handsy 

But yk, the above is for extreme cases were he’s been smoking a lot lol 

Ok I actually need to sleep my eyes are closing by themselves 🧍🏻and I have some sick character development I need to do tomorrow

Tags; @dlfvrr , @bxbyyyjocelyn

[suzukiblu]

i am literally for real obsessed with your timberkon pink kryptonite fic so i definitely would love to see another sneak peek, but i'm also loving all the superfam stuff you're putting out!!! something that i wish you would write because i love your works (and have since the darcy lewis stucky days) and i think you would do amazing things with the pairing is jaytim, but i know thats not everyones cup of tea

(i realize now that you were probably aiming for an ask rather than a reply so here it is in your inbox too hskdhsh)

Thank you! ❤️ And oh, asks and replies were both fine for this, no worries. I try to just specify in-post whenever I have a preference but it's not gonna bother me either way.

I DO like JayTim to read, but I've never really felt a particular bug to write it myself? At least not yet, anyway, that may one day change. Though I miiiiight still put Kon in the middle because I am who I am and all, haha.

I'm planning to update the pink K fic on AO3 tomorrow, though I'm pretty sure I've already posted enough of chapter two in excerpts on Tumblr to have posted basically all of it by now and I'm trying to avoid doing that with chapter three, sooooo instead please accept the beginning of this very niche Superfam omegaverse pack dynamics AU instead. I've been looking for an excuse to post this whole big long thing anyway, lol.

Read-more for length, 'cuz there's kind of a lot here, haha.

.

The representative from the wet nurse agency shows up fifteen minutes early with an unusual-seeming omega who can't be a day over nineteen, being generous. Bruce makes a note to look into the agency's hiring practices a little more closely. The current situation is something of an emergency, unfortunately, and he's only had time to run the intermediate-level background checks so far.

Maybe this isn't the prospective wet nurse, he halfheartedly hopes, and they're just another representative; one who's in training or just here as backup. The kid smells like milk, though, and also why the hell would the agency send out an omega representative? Omegas are typically secretaries and clerks and almost all do in-office jobs, where they're "protected" from the outside world.

The practice is stupid and demeaning and borderline abhorrent, but it's a step up from the days when an omega couldn't get any job that wasn't as a nanny or a sex worker or some fucked-up combination of the two. Clark being an actual reporter is something that was practically unheard of two lousy generations back, and even now Clark is still an unusual exception in his field. Typically, an omega writing for a newspaper would be doing gossip or advice or something domestic, not investigative journalism.

So no, there's no way that this particular omega is anything but a wet nurse candidate, unusual-seeming and concerningly young or not. And Bruce had insisted on the candidate coming to meet them in person, even when the agency had very unsubtly implied that it would be better to just have the milk delivered.

Bruce is absolutely looking into this agency's hiring practices. An omega this age should barely be presented. One who's already allegedly producing enough milk to be a viable wet nurse for what they're requesting . . .

It's concerning, yes.

"Master Bruce, the representative from the Waterton Agency and her associate," Alfred introduces politely, gesturing between Bruce and their guests. He doesn't look or smell disapproving, even in the mildest notes, but Bruce knows he is.

Of course he is, with an omega who might be being either abused or taken advantage of or outright trafficked in the manor.

Bruce should've run a better background check.

"Hello, Alpha Wayne. My name is Ellen Travers," the agency representative greets tightly as Bruce steps into the parlor. She's a harried-looking blonde beta with graying hair who looks very unhappy to be here and is doing a very bad job of hiding the nervous dissatisfaction in her scent.

She doesn't introduce the omega.

Bruce puts on his stupid "Brucie" grin and strides right up to Travers, sticking a hand out to shake. She puts on a weak attempt at a polite smile in return and takes it.

"Hello there, Beta Travers, thanks so much for coming out here on such short notice!" Bruce greets her with a lie of cheerfulness, but Travers continues to smell nervous and upset and her smile is no less forced. And the omega . . .

The kid smells downright sullen, which is not a typical scent to catch off an unfamiliar presented omega and doesn't do anything to make him seem any older.

And yes, he's definitely unusual. He's much taller than Travers–about Bruce's own height, in fact–and has a very broad build and a surprising amount of muscle on him on top of that. Bruce knows full-grown alphas who'd kill to be built like this kid. He's also much more "handsome" than "beautiful", and frankly couldn't look less like the kind of sweet and pretty little things the agency had advertised on their website if he tried, much less the soft and maternal type Bruce had been expecting to actually have show up, given the specific requests he'd made.

Well, it does make sense. Bruce obviously wasn't going to provide the agency with either a Kryptonian genetic profile or a Kryptonian pup's exact dietary needs in search of a suitable wet nurse, but the nutrient requests that they'd made would likely necessitate an omega of a similar build to Clark's to supply–hell, the kid even resembles him a bit, funnily enough. They've already had four agencies tell them that they simply didn't have an appropriate candidate on staff, and the milk samples they'd been able to provide hadn't proven very helpful.

Bruce has no idea how the Kents ever fed Clark, but Martha had at least had the advantage of having a pack bond with him. A packmate's milk always does miles better by a pup than a stranger's or any kind of formula ever could.

Though she'd had some very odd cravings while nursing him, she'd told them. And Clark had still grown up underfed, even with formula and yellow sunlight to supplement–the Fortress had observed marked evidence of childhood malnutrition in him, he'd said.

Occasionally Bruce wonders what a properly-nursed Kryptonian raised under a yellow sun from infancy would've actually turned out like.

The thought is . . . well. A thought.

A thought that still makes him leery of how Jon Kent might grow up, sometimes.

Those concerns aside, though, the really unusual thing about this omega isn't either his physique or his face. Bruce is perfectly used to omegas with "nontraditional" looks after knowing Clark and Diana this long, to say nothing of various other Justice League members or other superheroes and villains he's known, or of both raising and reuniting with Jason. But this omega isn't as demurely dressed as mild-mannered Clark Kent would be; he's wearing opaque sunglasses and an alpha-cut studded leather jacket and alpha-style jeans and an inconveniently inaccessible plain black T-shirt with no sign of a nursing bra underneath it, nothing soft or appealing in either his clothes or his posture. If anything, he looks aggressive; tense and guarded and ready to start some shit. Even Jason usually puts up a temporary illusion of traditional omega mannerisms when he's meeting strangers as a civilian, if only so he'll be underestimated. This kid isn't even pretending to make the attempt.

And the kid smells completely and undeniably stray, too. Bruce can't catch a single note of packscent coming off him. Not even the scent of whatever pup got him milked up enough to qualify for this job. Unbred omegas sometimes lactate in heat or when under stress or if someone in their pack either has or adopts a pup, but a stray who doesn't smell particularly distressed or anything like he's on his cycle shouldn't be producing any milk at all.

At least not without using the kind of stimulants that Bruce explicitly forbade when filling out the agency application, anyway. Those medications are necessary for some omegas, obviously, but in this situation . . .

Kryptonian pups don't respond well to getting anything like that in their milk, they've already very thoroughly learned.

The omega also has spiked stainless steel piercings in his ears, snake bites under his mouth, and two curved barbells in his left eyebrow. All his other jewelry is heavy alpha-styled rings and bracelets, and his nails are painted a chipped black. And he is, notably, not wearing any kind of collar or necklace, and his neck is completely unmarked.

Bruce is in no way oblivious to the obvious message that an uncollared and unbitten omega's neck presents when left so obviously bared. Especially on a stray one who's dressed like an alpha and standing like he's expecting a fight.

He cannot imagine why this kid is working as a wet nurse.

None of the theories that come to mind bode particularly well, though.

"This omega is our most fitting candidate for your needs, Alpha Wayne," Travers says, her smile turning increasingly forced. Bruce thinks he can safely translate that expression as that of a beta who did not in any way agree with that assessment but was stuck following orders. "She fulfills all of your nutritional requests, including the necessary iron content and the prioritized fats and proteins, and, of course, is not taking any manner of lactation-inducing stimulants or supplements."

"He," the omega corrects, sounding dubious. Travers's mouth tightens. Bruce knows a lot of old-school traditionalists who won't call a male omega "he" or a female alpha "she", no matter what said omega or alpha's preferences happen to be, and makes another note about looking into this agency more thoroughly.

Much more thoroughly.

"She isn't available for direct nursing, unfortunately, but her milk is a perfect match to your requests and she produces both excellently and reliably; her supply will be more than enough for your needs," Travers continues as if the omega hadn't spoken, and the omega's lip curls in obvious annoyance as he rolls his eyes with no attempt to hide his exasperation even in the presence of an unfamiliar alpha.

Bruce thinks of Jason with a brief pang, and pushes the thought aside. It's not the time.

Maybe he could've asked Jason for help with this, if he'd been a better father. A better alpha. A better . . .

But he wasn't, so now there's an annoyed stranger standing in his parlor instead of a content packmate curled up in their nest.

"Really?" he asks, tilting his head and blinking down at Travers with a deliberately surprised expression. "The consultant made it sound like you'd need multiple donors, for the amount we're asking."

If one goddamn barely-presented kid is actually producing enough milk to even half-feed a Kryptonian pup . . .

"This omega produces sufficient quantities for your needs, Alpha Wayne," Travers replies with another forced smile. She must know how ridiculous a statement that is, when she's talking about a stray kid and not a fully mature omega with at least a couple of litters under their belt who's well-established in a stable pack, but she says it with conviction all the same.

"Oh, good!" Bruce says brightly, because he's supposed to be a stupid knotheaded playboy who wouldn't know a damn thing about nursing either way. "That'll be convenient, then."

Frankly, he only wishes one omega could produce what they need right now, but requesting that much milk from one agency for just one pup would be immediately flagged as suspicious, and definitely turned down outright. They're still looking for other candidates under false names, but at the rate they're going, they're going to need to keep supplementing with formula, which already hasn't been going well.

If Clark could get milked up himself, this wouldn't be a problem, of course. A Kryptonian omega could easily produce more than enough for one Kryptonian pup, especially under a yellow sun. Clark nursed Jon without a problem for years and was actually overproducing when he was, Bruce knows very well.

Unfortunately, that's not an option anymore. Not since . . .

Clark would never forgive himself if something like that happened again.

Never.

And Kara and Karen are both alphas, and Jon's a beta and only ten anyway, and the only other living Kryptonians they know of are either remorseless criminals imprisoned in the Phantom Zone or the sickly little pup who's slowly wasting away upstairs.

Formula and concentrated yellow sunlight haven't been enough. Clark can't get milked up anymore. They haven't been able to synthesize any appropriate supplements either in the Fortress or in working with the Justice League or STAR Labs or even in collaborating between them.

And the pup is just getting weaker, and quieter, and sicker.

A human wet nurse probably won't even help that much, at this point, but . . .

Well, it's the best chance they have to keep the pup alive until they can synthesize something. Maybe the only chance, now.

"We strive to provide to our clients' convenience, Alpha Wayne," Travers says, and the omega rolls his eyes again. Bruce is less and less convinced of him being an adult in any way but the presentation of his pheromones.

It's rude to address an unfamiliar unpacked omega directly, especially as an alpha. Technically Travers is chaperoning them in a professional situation, though, and Bruce has increasing suspicions about this omega's personal standards so far as "manners" go anyway.

And everyone knows Brucie Wayne is stupid and shameless, of course.

So he flashes the kid a grin, and he says, "Well, it's great to meet you, we appreciate you making the trip! What's your name, Mr. . . .?"

The kid blinks at him, clearly surprised both to be spoken to and to be called "Mr." instead of "Miss" or "Ms." or even "Omega". Travers looks absolutely scandalized.

Bruce really doesn't approve of the kind of traditionalists who won't introduce an omega or use their stated pronouns, though, so fuck if he cares.

"Her name is Carly, Alpha Wayne!" Travers interjects quickly, her tone a little bit too bright to be genuine. "Short for Caroline."

"Just Carl," the kid corrects, shaking his head. Travers's mouth tightens again. It's not a very typical omega name, so no surprise.

It occurs to Bruce to wonder if Carl might be a trans alpha, which he probably should've thought to wonder as soon as he saw how he was dressed and got an impression of his personality. Obviously the kid's at least not currently on HRT if he's working as a wet nurse, but that doesn't rule out the possibility of him being transgender all the same.

Actually, affording gender-affirming care is definitely a reason that a kid like this one would be working this job, especially if said kid's family weren't supporting them. Wet nurses make more money than most other fields that omegas without a diploma can expect to get into, at least short of sex work, and Carl is very obviously too young to have graduated college yet.

Actually, Bruce still isn't even sure if he's old enough to have graduated high school yet.

He's going to burn down this whole damn agency if they're knowingly employing a minor as a wet nurse.

"Nice to meet you, Carl," he says easily. Carl's eyes narrow consideringly, and then he folds his arms and smirks, crooked and casual.

"Sure," he says. "Nice to meet you too, Wayne."

Travers looks agonized. The last non-alpha stranger who called Bruce "Wayne" instead of "Alpha Wayne" was a beta terrorist who was in the middle of kidnapping him, and he's not sure any omega who wasn't an active supervillain ever has, so he's not surprised by her reaction.

Carl is still watching him with the same cocky smirk, though, an obvious challenge in the expression and his posture both. Bruce puts another point towards the possibility of him being a trans alpha, though he's not stupid enough to actually ask if he is, especially not in front of someone the kid works under. Presentation aside, Carl might not be out, and Travers is currently at least professionally following traditional manners, so Bruce doesn't have much hope for this agency being all that progressive and doesn't want to accidentally get the kid fired.

Though if Carl is a minor, Bruce is going to have to see if he can't slip him a business card and find him another job. Especially if he's going to be burning down the agency he's working for.

"Why aren't you available for direct nursing, if you don't mind me asking?" he asks in a curious tone, because he still can't smell a pup on the kid and most wet nurses who aren't nursing their own pups do direct nursing, and he wants intel about the agency's typical practices. Carl shrugs.

"Stubborn tits," he replies, pushing his chest out as he gestures at himself with no apparent sense of shame or self-consciousness, and Travers looks increasingly agonized. Bruce is just increasingly missing Jason, himself. "Milk flows too slow and the pups always get all fussy and stress out about it. Which, whatever, pups are weird anyway, they're not really my thing."

"'Weird'?" Bruce repeats, carefully noting the lack of possessives in reference to any potentially dysphoria-triggering anatomy. Still not a confirmation, but another point. Carl shrugs again.

"I'm afraid Carly doesn't bond appropriately with pups, Alpha Wayne," Travers interjects quickly, and Carl scowls at her. "She has an unfortunate detachment disorder."

"I 'attach' fine," Carl grumbles sourly, jamming his hands into his jacket pockets. "I just don't like kids."

Travers grimaces. Bruce keeps pretending to be an oblivious idiot. He has met omegas who don't like children. They exist.

They're just all deeply, deeply traumatized people. Or clinically insane.

Or both, frequently.

So . . . "detachment disorder" seems likely, yes.

Bruce doesn't consider either sex or gender to be the end-all be-all of a person, of course, but there are certain biological imperatives that no one can deny as existing, and a lactating omega faced with a theoretical hungry pup–really, just about any omega faced with a theoretical hungry pup–is not ever going to say they "just" don't like kids. Usually the problem with omega wet nurses is them liking kids too much, in fact, and getting distressed or depressed when the parents wean the pups and they won't be seeing them again. The decent agencies have psychological support for that in place and typically offer paid leave between long-term clients. The Waterton Agency does up to a month, which is one of the reasons Bruce chose it.

So yes, Carl is almost definitely traumatized.

Though really, a wet nurse who won't be around much isn't the worst thing, considering. Neither Clark nor Jon started developing any especially noticeable powers until they were older, but they can't assume anything based off a sample size of two, especially when said sample size is made up of biological relatives. And even if they didn't have to worry about that, well, the manor is frequently full of vigilantes and the cave is right underneath it. There's a lot that a regular guest could notice, especially over however long they might need to be nursing. Especially because nursing is a quiet, out-of-the-way activity that takes a while, and it would be very easy for someone to forget to keep their voice down or to not do a damn quadruple-backflip off a chandelier at the wrong moment.

And there's a reason Clark and Lois brought this problem to the shadows of Gotham, as opposed to staying in bright and sunny Metropolis with it. They've got something to hide right now, and a lot to figure out.

Plus if even a molecule of kryptonite gets involved in this situation, even secondhand . . .

Power Girl and Supergirl and Steel are the ones taking shifts watching Metropolis right now, and everyone is just going to leave it at that. Superman isn't coming out for anything less than the apocalypse.

"Well, the Lane-Kents will probably want you to meet the kiddo either way, if you don’t mind," Bruce tells Carl, offering an easy shrug. "Peace of mind, you know how it is."

"Not really," Carl says. Bruce debates slipping the kid a psychiatrist's business card, but he'd probably take it as an insult.

"Er, yes, Alpha Wayne," Travers says awkwardly. "Actually, we were expecting Alpha Lane to be with you . . . ?"

"Lois is currently stuck in Metropolis traffic thanks to Metallo bashing up half of downtown this afternoon and Clark is upstairs getting the kiddo around. Little guy just woke up from his nap," Bruce replies with a pleasant smile, making another note of how Travers left off the omega member of the couple's last name, and also apparently doesn't expect to be meeting said omega at all. He is increasingly regretting choosing this agency, though he may yet manage to do some good in the world by subtly dismantling it. Or maybe just by buying it outright and doing a little restructuring.

Or a lot of restructuring.

"Wait, it's not your kid?" Carl asks, wrinkling his nose with a puzzled expression. Travers looks pained. The Waterton Agency isn't Gotham-based, so Bruce isn't sure why she apparently expects Carl to be up on the Wayne pack's current members, especially considering how she keeps talking over and outright ignoring him. Bruce has a hard time picturing her bothering to provide the information herself, at this point.

"Oh, no, just doing a favor for some visiting friends," he replies smoothly, still wearing the same pleasant smile. Which is a lie, of course, because actually the Lane-Kents are part of his secondary pack and "visiting friends" therefore in no way covers what they are to him. The Wayne pack is both his primary and his family pack, obviously, and the Justice League is a loosely-connected tertiary pack, but his secondary pack lacks both an official name and public recognition, because explaining to the public why Brucie Wayne's secondary pack is two award-winning reporters from Metropolis, a random museum curator in Gateway City, a decorated Navy SEAL, and occasionally a cat burglar with commitment issues is just not going to work out for anyone's secret identities.

And that even without counting how everyone knows about Lois Lane and Steve Trevor's respective very public connections to Superman and Wonder Woman, much less ever explaining anything about Selina. Bruce, meanwhile, still isn't sure how he ended up in a pack with any of these people. Clark and Diana definitely have a lot to answer for either way, though.

Mostly he blames Clark. Diana has more decorum. Clark is just . . . Clark, so now Bruce gets a scarf and cookies from Martha Kent every Christmas, never mind that he's technically Jewish, because God forbid he ever tells her that and she starts sending him Hanukkah presents instead. He cannot handle eight nights' worth of Martha Kent's colorfully-wrapped scarves and lovingly-packaged cookies. That's just not a thing he can do.

He doesn't even celebrate holidays, except when Dick cons him into it. Which admittedly he's been doing more often again the past few years, but–

This is off-topic, Bruce reminds himself, but then gets distracted as Carl cocks his head a little and frowns over something. Bruce instinctively wants to brace himself for trouble at the sight, because that frown actually very strongly reminds him of Clark's "what the hell weird and concerning thing did I just notice with my super-senses" frown, but A) Carl doesn't have super-senses and B) Bruce just heard the stairs creak, which means the actual Clark is finally on his way down to meet them. No one else in the manor would ever make the steps creak any way but deliberately except for Lois or Jon, and Jon is out on a walk with Damian and Titus while Lois is, again, currently stuck in Metropolis traffic. So: Clark, definitely.

Also Clark tends to make the stairs creak a lot louder than either Lois or Jon do, given the very notable size difference there.

"Has Alpha Lane authorized you to make decisions for his pup's care, Alpha Wayne?" Travers asks with another forced smile. Bruce is resolving to check specifically her background too, at this point.

"No, no, that won't be necessary, good ol' Clark's right here," he says, waving a hand dismissively. "It's his pup too, and he knows much more about ones this age than I do anyway."

"Yes, well, omegas tend to get a little . . . irrational about the idea of sharing their pups with a wet nurse," Travers says "politely", like she thinks she's stating a fact. Bruce would say something cheerful-sounding and subtly insulting back, typically, but Carl's frown is deepening and he looks a little bit . . . odd, maybe, or . . .

There's a strange little pup-call from the stairs, very quiet and echoing in unusual registers but still recognizably one all the same, and just as recognizably resigned-sounding. It's a pup-call that clearly expects to go unanswered, at this point, which is something that Bruce would like to never hear again in his life, given the option.

Though it's better than a pup who's given up on calling at all, he supposes.

He tries not to grimace at that thought, though he's sure Clark's grimacing enough for the both of them right now after hearing a call like that. The pup is starving, and they just can't feed him properly. At this point sending him back where he came from might be kinder.

Honestly, if Bruce didn't know exactly who his parents were, he might've already insisted on that.

It's just–

The pup calls again, even quieter. Travers looks perplexed.

"Er," she says. "I apologize, Alpha Wayne, but is the pup ill? We can't be around them if they are, it's against agency policy."

"Oh, the kiddo just sounds like that," Bruce replies dismissively, and then lies, "Vocal chord deformity, apparently. We're not sure what caused it, pediatrician thinks it's something genetic."

Well, it is genetic. Jon calls in exactly the same registers, and according to Martha and Jonathan so did Clark.

So it's genetic, yes. Just not a deformity.

Carl's expression looks–odd, still. Bruce isn't sure what to think of it, but it makes him a bit wary. A detachment disorder doesn't imply an actual negative reaction to the presence of a pup, obviously, but . . .

Clark steps into the parlor with Lor-Zod sitting on his hip, the pup no older than two or so and looking small and listless in his arms, his dark skin all washed out and his previously bright eyes gone dull and tired. When he first crash-landed in Metropolis in the rocket he'd been wrapped up inside, Clark said he'd popped out of it energetic and excited and clamoring for attention in toddler-level Kryptonian, but he's been slowly fading ever since, wasting away without the nutrients that they just can't provide him. He's probably only made it this long thanks to the sun.

Again, Bruce has no idea how the Kents ever fed Clark, though he was already at least three by the time they got him, which probably helped. A pup Lor's age is capable of eating solid food, obviously, but milk or formula is still a major part of a pup's diet until they're four or five, if not older, and the longer the better. Hell, most kids still at least semi-regularly nurse for as long as their dam can manage to stay milked up, or even until they present themselves. No one can wean a damn toddler and expect them to thrive.

Or even survive, in Lor's case.

Lor opens his mouth in another weak, resigned little pup-call, and Clark's own mouth tightens as he restrains himself from answering it and giving the pup false hope for milk he just doesn't have, and Bruce steels himself to–

Carl croons.

Travers startles. Bruce is . . . surprised, a bit. A detachment disorder doesn't really imply the kind of omega who'd croon at a pup they've never seen before in their life, after all.

It's an unusual and unpracticed croon, as if it's a sound Carl doesn't make very often, which Bruce supposes would make sense. Lor responds to it immediately, though, shifting weakly in Clark's arms and pup-calling again.

Carl, with absolutely no manners or decorum whatsoever, sweeps right past Travers and Bruce and Alfred and just plucks Lor straight out of Clark's arms. Which–forget the kid calling him "Wayne"; that's a damn etiquette breach. Hell, Clark probably only didn't take Carl's head off for snatching up his pup without permission because he's so clearly dumbfounded that he actually did it.

Bruce is slightly less dumbfounded due to having spent five seconds in the kid's presence, but still, what is he–

"Carly!" Travers chokes in horror. Carl very obviously doesn't even hear her and just starts purring at Lor and cuddling him close in a way that really doesn't even slightly imply "detachment disorder".

And then Bruce figures out what was "odd" about Carl's expression, before.

"Huh," he says, a little bemused. "Did he just go into feral drop?"

"Alpha Wayne, I assure you, this is not the Waterton Agency's standard of behavior!" Travers sputters, sounding even more horrified, and Clark just blinks and tilts his head.

"I think he did, yeah," he says, looking perplexed. Carl continues ignoring everyone in the room except for Lor and just purrs louder at him as they both nuzzle into each other. Lor makes more very distinctly Kryptonian pup-calls at him, and Carl croons back with no apparent concern over their strangeness, sounding absolutely goddamn enamored.

That is definitely not a detachment disorder, Bruce thinks. There is no possible way that an omega with a detachment disorder just went into full feral drop over a pup at first sight.

Or possibly first sound, he's realizing.

Bruce is perfectly aware that omegas can feral-bond with distressed pups whether they mean to or not, but he's never seen it happen this fast outside of a warzone or a natural disaster. He's heard hearsay and read studies about particularly compatible sets that have done it under less stressful circumstances, but distressed and starving pup or not, he wouldn't have even expected a human omega to be capable of bonding with a Kryptonian pup like that.

Or at all, frankly. Deliberately created and carefully cultivated pack bonds are one thing, but . . .

Lor chirps, the sound still a little quiet and fragile, a little weak, but also undeniably hopeful, and Carl gives him a low, rumbly purr in reply and yanks up his inconveniently-cut T-shirt to expose his chest with no trace of hesitation or modesty. He's already leaking sweetly-scented milk, already adjusting his grip on Lor to let the pup get at his chest as easily and comfortably as possible, and Lor latches without a moment's hesitation and immediately starts to nurse.

And then Lor purrs. Carl just watches him with undeniable adoration, still paying no attention whatsoever to anyone else in the room.

Alright, then, Bruce thinks carefully.

Well, that just happened.

"Thought you didn't like kids, Carl?" he inquires casually, putting on an easy grin, and Carl finally seems to come up enough to remember that the rest of them exist, though he still doesn't actually take his eyes off Lor.

"I would literally become a supervillain if this kid asked me to," he replies dreamily, keeping Lor cradled in one arm and tracing a finger down the pup's cheek with a soft, besotted expression that's unmistakable for what it is even with the sunglasses on. He looks like he might just burn down the world if someone tried to take Lor away from him right now, and his pheromones are so all-encompassing and so cloyingly sweet that Bruce genuinely might need to see a dentist after this.

"Well usually I'd say we keep Batman in the loop on that kind of thing around here, but if the kiddo asks, it only seems fair," he jokes with a laugh.

"I would drop-kick Batman off a roof for you," Carl informs Lor lovingly as he strokes his cheek again and then skims a fingertip along the little barely-visible scar splitting his eyebrow. Lor keeps purring sweetly and Alfred coughs to conceal a low chuckle. Clark looks a little pained to be watching one of his pups nurse from another omega so easily and eagerly, but his mouth quirks in amusement at the comment anyway. Bruce doesn't dignify any of them with a response, because he is an alpha with dignity and also is in no way threatened by a passing comment from a barely-presented kid who clearly isn't even combat-trained.

. . . although he also isn't going to be stupid enough to try coaxing Lor away from the omega he just feral-bonded with just yet either.

Then Tim walks by the doorway, takes one look at Carl with Lor, and trips over literally nothing and into a full faceplant on the foyer floor. Bruce pauses, then raises an eyebrow.

"Alright down there, Timmy?" he asks. Tim scrambles back to his feet, looking more genuinely mortified than he's ever seen him.

"Fine!" he blurts. "Fine. Everything's fine. All the things are fine. Uh. What? Who?"

"This is Carl," Bruce says, gesturing to the kid. "Wet nurse from the Waterton Agency. And his escort, Beta Travers. Carl, Beta Travers, this is my son, Tim Drake-Wayne. And also Clark Lane-Kent and his pup, Chris Lane-Kent, who I'm assuming you've figured out are your prospective clients."

"Yes, Alpha Wayne," Travers says with a grimace. "We gathered."

"Ngh," Tim says, looking at literally everything but Carl and Lor. His face is bright red, which is an unusual amount of embarrassment for him to be showing just over tripping. Typically he masks that kind of thing a lot more effectively. Bruce would almost think he was actually embarrassed by watching Carl feed Lor, but Tim's literally never been affected by anything but passing curiosity when seeing a pup nurse before, so that seems unlikely. And he's a male beta, if still an unpresented one, so it's not like he's got any reason to care all that much about it anyway.

So his reaction does seem a little odd, yes.

Hm.

"Chris," Carl coos adoringly down at Lor. Bruce is in no way stupid enough to think that he absorbed any of the rest of that introduction or has even noticed Tim's presence at all. He wouldn't even put money on him having noticed Clark's presence, in fact, except as a pup-delivery system. The kid is very clearly in love with the pup in his arms and doesn't give a damn about any of the rest of them at all.

Detachment disorder. Sure.

[kteezy997]

Daddy’s Boy- Part Seven//t.c.

Warning: some angst

It was an extremely filling breakfast at the local diner, and you had a great time with the two boys. A part of you felt giddy, like you were on a date that your son just happened to join. You felt like something was really blossoming between you and Timmy again.

Timmy had forbidden you to pay the breakfast bill, and Theo was playing the claw machine piled high with stuffed animals nearby. You had an idea that had been brewing during the meal.

“So I was just thinking: maybe tonight Theo and I could stay at your place? Or maybe just him, if you want to spend time with him one on one.” you hoped he would say “Oh no, I would love for you to come, too.”

Timmy's eyes widened, and he didn’t immediately agree.

Your heart dropped and you were instantly embarrassed.

“Oh, well I would love to have you both, but I have plans tonight, actually.” he slid his hand into his pocket, retrieving his wallet to pay.

You nodded, feeling almost sick to your stomach, “I see. What plans do you have?” you shook your head, knowing you had overstepped, and maybe assumed too much. “No, it’s none of my business.”

“No, it’s okay. It’s just…I’m meeting someone for dinner. A coworker. She, um, asked me to dinner. It’s not that big of a deal.” Timmy tried to brush the whole thing off in front of you.

“She? It’s a date? That’s nice, Timmy.” you weren’t being condescending, but you were masking your true feelings.

He looked at you, shook his head, his curls going wild just for a second, “Not really a date. It’s just dinner.”

“I bet she likes you. Everyone likes you.” And I have fumbled you.

“I hate that stupid game!” Theo grumbled as he came back over to the table.

You cleared your throat, looking at your son, “Hey, we don’t say those words, and you know that.”

“Sorry, Mom. It’s just that I never win anything.” the boy frowned, picking up his little cup of chocolate milk and taking a swig.

“It’s okay, bud, you have plenty of toys at home. And I’ll tell you something that’ll make you feel better.” Timmy said, leaning across the table.

Theo perked up, his eyes glued to his father, “What, what is it?”

“You are gonna come spend the night with me tomorrow night.” he grinned.

“Yeah!" Theo cheered, throwing his arms up in the air like he had won a prize from the claw machine after all, "Sleepover at Daddy’s! Can I bring my Hot Wheels?”

"You can bring whatever you want." Timmy said.

You gave him a look from across the table.

"Within reason." he added.

.............

You were a bit of an emotional wreck for the rest of the day. Timmy went home and you talked Theo into spending the night at your parents' house. You needed a break. You needed time to think.

You needed to talk to someone about your situation with Timmy. You had begun to think that you had let him slip through your fingers, and now you were worried that you would only be Theo's mom in Timmy’s eyes and not a potential partner.

You asked your best friend Lucie to come over and she came through with pizza and her listening, compassionate ears. You had told her everything. She had always liked Timmy; she thought that you were a great match together, and she adored Theo.

"I don't know, Luce, what if he goes out with this other woman and they start dating? My life would be ruined having to see him with someone else.” you put your hand to your head, “And it would be another thing that Theo would have to get used to. Things were going so good. I should have just told him that I wanted to be with him."

"Y/n, you have trauma, not necessarily from Timmy, but from the breakup and not having Theo's father around. Of course, you were skeptical about putting yourself back out there, and you were right to not rush something that you weren't sure about. Especially since you also have Theo’s well-being to consider.”

You sighed, knowing that she was right. "But if it was the right thing, why do I feel like this? It's too late to do anything now."

Lucie frowned, "Who says it's too late? You could leave right now, and stop him from going on that date."

You laughed, "Right now? That's crazy! He could be gone already.

"Let's go, let's go right now!" she said, "We can try to catch him." Lucie grabbed your hand, pulling you, and rushing out of your home. "You are going to tell that man that you love him, and you want to raise Theo together and make more babies." she said, matter-of-factly.

"This is insane!" you yelled, getting into your best friend's car and she sped off into the night. You could feel the adrenaline and exhilaration that the moment was bringing.

…….

You knocked the door of Timmy's apartment, not even certain if he was home. All you had was hope. After a moment, your stomach went sour as there was no answer. You decided to give up, as he was probably out on his date.

You swallowed your pride and realized that it was time to come to terms with your relationship, or lack thereof, with Timmy. This night could be detrimental to your life going forward. He could have a new girlfriend, and everything between you and him would wash away with the changing tide. You decided to walk away.

You were walking away from the door, when suddenly, you heard the turning of a the door knob.

"Y/n?"

You turned around quickly, seeing Timmy standing in the doorway that you had just left. "Timmy." you said, going back over to him, feeling a little dazed because you couldn't believe he was actually there. It wasn't too late!

"Are you okay? Is Theo okay, wh-where is he?" the concern in his eyes made you feel terrible guilt. You had caused him to needlessly worry.

"Oh we're fine! Everything is fine! He's with my parents for the night." you assured him. "I just had to come and see you."

"Y/n, what's going on?" his face softened as he looked at you.

"Timothee, I don't, I don't want you to go on this date tonight, I'm sorry I didn't say anything sooner. And maybe I have no right to say that to you, but-"

"I won't go if you don't want me to." he shook his head, gazing down at you, so tenderly.

You couldn't help but smile a little at what he had said, and for the first time, you felt like your feelings and assumptions were validated. "I love you, Timmy. I've always loved you. I love the man you are and the father you are becoming to our son. I think we... should be together." you felt your throat tighten up with the nerves you were feeling.

He grinned, saying, "I hate that we were ever apart." He took your hand, pulling you close to him.

In an instant, you felt warm and tingly in the best way. You were mush when you were this close to him. You felt at home.

"Come here." He put his forehead to yours, wrapping his arms around you and shutting the door behind you. "I love you too." he kissed your lips softly, then parting to add, "And I love our boy more than anything."

You threw your arms around him as well, and you pressed your lips to his. Your heart and your body were on fire. After a moment, you were making out shamelessly.

Timmy picked you up and took you over to the couch.

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