#not to brag but they were pretty delicious ..... anyway ..

[xxplastic-cubexx]

Magneto would love lumpia meanwhile Charles would have his Bibingka and Puto Bungbong hehe

Happy Holidays!

asks that remind me my bitchass friend kayla promised to make me *puto two years ago and she still hasnt

*puto is a filipino rice cake i do know it also means 'bitch' in spanish we do not have to address that thank you

[oceantornadoo]

IDK! HEAR ME OUT THO!!!

Simon, staging the break in and what not so he could push you back into his arms??? INSANE!

Delicious story. Thank you for the food! <3

so originally when i made that last fic (which unexpectedly blew up tysm everyone) i added in the creepy elements almost on accident?? but this and another reply has me thinking...

tw: slight humiliation (but you'll like it)=

simon riley wasn't a bad man. he also wasn't a bad husband. at least that's what he told himself.

when you had presented him with those divorce papers a bit ago (13 months and 4 days, but who was counting), he thought it was a bluff. a joke. he had gone too far in your last argument, and that was your reaction. when he told you he'd go to therapy, you stared at him with a look he'd only see on men in the battlefield. dead all the way through, a walking husk. so he signed them and went to therapy anyways.

the whole time, this whole 13-month break, where you had been 'building a new life' or whatever, he had been planning. internalizing the commentary his therapist would make, and then spitting it back out to you while you moved out of his place. every time you seemed to forget one extra box, and who's to say if he hid a couple in his room? he had a plan.

over time, simon really seemed to have learned so much from therapy. so much about communication. he had become open and welcoming, far from that man who would respond to your complaints with hard stares and a lack of words. so maybe you met for coffee a couple of times and that's how he knew about the cafe by your new place. maybe that's how he tailed you one night after a date, just to make sure this new guy didn't try anything (and not to figure out your unit number). whatever he did, he played a dangerous game by letting you have this illusion of freedom while balancing his presence in your life, just enough to make you want more. after weeks and week of stagnant progress, he needed one extra push. something small, not even a shove.

and if he happened to mention your unit number to a bunch of shady guys that hung out in the alley by your building? happened to brag about your pretty pussy and sweet-smelling panties? maybe mention your habit of not locking the window when you left for work? who's to say. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

and now here you were, back in his arms where you belonged. a little frightened but comforted in the knowledge that he could protect you. the ghost wasn't shed when he took his mask off, but you didn't need to know that.

--

your body was so used to being in simon's arms you didn't even realize you had been grinding on him for the past ten minutes. his boxers you wore were sticky with arousal as you grinded against his clothed cock in the dark. even in your dream, it was simon underneath you, no one else. "si." you panted, a near-whisper that only a military man could have heard. "dove?" he adjusted your sleeping positions, tossing the covers to give you more room to maneuver against him.

"i know i said that thing about the line not being crossed." he gave you a low chuckle. silly little girl. you had finally realized how much you needed him and he was going to milk you for all you were worth. "and?" you stopped. shit. he needed to seem more responsive. he moved you from his thigh to his boner using one arm, the other one snaking its way under your shirt to stroke your back. you moaned as he massaged the tension from the day's earlier events away, giving you sweet relief. the sweetness of the massage made a hard contrast to the friction in your core as he rubbed you against his hardened cock.

"spit it out, baby." he growled. "can you-fuck." his hand had moved to the back of your neck now, holding it in a tight grip. his hand was so large he could feel the pulse points on either side of your jaw, heart racing. finally. "can you get me off? just this once?" he snorted, moving you up and down against him faster, dragging your sensitive clit over and over. "what's the magic word?" he flipped you both around, pressing his body weight on top of you.

simon turned the light on, wanting to see how needy you were. you were panting, shirt sticky with sweat as your chest moved up and down with exertion. he hiked up your shirt and took off your boxers, exposing your sticky cunt to the cool air. he took a sniff of the fabric, noting your small gasp as if you didn't know how obsessed he was with you already. "magic word." your mouth dropped. guess you weren't getting off that easily. "please, simon." he clucked his tongue at that. "ghost?" he left out a short laugh, arms reaching out to tug his shirt off of you. your nipples were so hard, aching to be pinched and sucked just how you liked them. "not ghost." he reached over to his nightstand, pulling something out of the drawer. he fumbled with his hand for a second, then held yours up to the light as he slipped something on it.

"husband." the words left your mouth in a whoosh, eyes transfixed on your wedding ring that was on your hand. the one you had flung at him after he complained about the divorce papers, the one you said you'd rather die than wear again. and here it was, right back on your finger, sparkling in the lamplight.

simon captured your mouth in a rough kiss, entering you with his ring and middle finger at the same time. "so willing for your husband, hm? all puffy and wet. look at your cunt, darling." you both looked down at your pussy at the same time. it was squelching, your vibrator sessions not holding a candle to what your ex husband could do to you. you were almost embarrassed by how desperate your pussy looked, clit enlarged from its earlier friction. his fingers worked in and out of you, wedding ring covered in slick. you watched as he pressed his thumb to your clit in small circles, a tightening sensation in your lower belly rising to the surface. "simon, si-fuck" he gave your pussy a small slap, pulling his fingers out as you addressed him incorrectly. "husband, please." he entered you again roughly, drawing a low moan from you. he captured your nipple in his mouth, teething it just enough to make you hurt. punishment.

"please please please i'm right ther-" he pressed hard against your clit and sent you careening off the edge into your orgasm, back bowing off the bed. simon gave you small love bites as you recovered, hand still working your cunt to draw out your orgasm.

finally, he removed his fingers and drew back from you, forcing eye contact. he put both in his mouth, moaning at the taste of your arousal mixed with the metal from the wedding band. your jaw was still open, looking at him like you had never seen him before. like the sheep's skin had finally been removed, and now only the wolf remained.

"let's get you to bed, wife."

[merakiui]

Skully with a sleeping beauty darling

At first he thought you were dead but upon closer inspection, you’re still breathing! (he definitely got closer than necessary to check… I’m thinking he’s just weird enough to see if he can feel you breath on his mouth)

As any gentleman would he brings you out of the woods and indoors. He sets your still body on his bed and resigns himself to sleep on the floor. He waits until it’s midday and you never even stirred from your slumber. Skully is panicky and worried about your wellbeing first and foremost. If only you could wake up! Even if just to tell him your name! After a long while he thinks of how uncomfortable it was to sleep on the cold floor :( would it really be so bad just to lay next to each other? Would you mind if he’s just doing it to keep you both warm? He just wants to cuddle your unmoving body. Maybe he subtly brags about it because look! His lover roommate has all the positives of being dead but bonus! Your body is so warm and won’t decompose like a corpse. How’d he get so lucky

Anyway he’s such a gentleman that he doesn’t even think to kiss you awake. But he’s creepy too so he gets necrophilia vibes

And corpse bride skully is delicious

- jelly

AAAAA YES OMG……. this is so yummy!!!! Skully who talks himself into cuddling with you after days of hesitation. He’s a gentleman and would never dare do anything uncouth, but he also can’t resist you. You’re like the prettiest doll. Surely you won’t mind if he decides to cuddle you to keep the both of you warm! It’s for your own good, after all.

Skully who bathes and dresses you. You really are like a living, breathing doll… he’s determined to look after you and keep you safe until you wake. Kissing your lips is out of the question when he settles for leaving soft pecks to your knuckles, hoping for the day in which your eyes finally open, and then he can hear your voice.

Maybe he’s a bit of a pervert about it. ;;; this is the first time he’s been so close to a pretty darling such as yourself. You won’t mind if he explores just a little, right? Groping your chest, running his hands along your sides, his fingers straying closer and closer to areas that would definitely be off-limits if you were conscious. Maybe it gets so bad that at one point he’s rubbing his hard-on against your ass, fucking between your thighs, his face buried in the crook of your neck while he holds you close against him and imagines you’re his wife (gender neutral).

Aaaa but the necrophilia vibes….. Skully who thinks you’re more like a corpse when you’re so still and silent. The only indication that you’re not are the many signs of life: warm body, a steady heartbeat, soft breaths… but sometimes a sick part of him imagines you’re a corpse. It’s really so wrong and he shouldn’t be this hard over such macabre thoughts, but he can’t help it!!! >_<

And if you do finally wake up, maybe it will be to a cock thrust up inside you as your “savior” finally joins your bodies in unholy matrimony. By then, he’s so deep into the delusion that it might startle him once he realizes all this time you were still alive and not a corpse like he initially fantasized.

[blublublujk]

nobody knows

mini-series

word count: 3k

genre: established relationship (hard dom x slutty sub)

pairing: hoseok x reader and jungkook x reader

summary:

the older tends to stay up a bit longer than you and he doesn’t know if he’s gone mad or if he genuinely smells a different scent on you, but he does. he knows that scent so well, but he knows he must be going crazy. jungkookie? that virgin couldn’t fuck a girl even if she was sent on a silver platter to him.  hoseok shakes the thoughts out of his head and pulls you in closer, his grip is so tight, almost as if he’s trying to prove his point. he’d be damned if his slut was being used by anyone else than him.  but just how much were you willing to get away with? 

warnings: [please read if you are sensitive] hard dom hoseok!!, slutty sub reader!!, hoseok is not nice ok but he isn't terrible i promise, hoseok is extremely possessive, cheating involved but you would too so, explicit sexual content: rough sex, filming during sex, blowjob, sexual thoughts, virgin jungkook, voyeurism, falls between lines of dubious consent, sexting, breast play, nipple piercings, if i missed anything fuck me

a.n: hi there, it's me wanting to start something super unrelated to what i had in mind, but i've been going thru it again so please be easy and patient with me. i'll be dedicating whatever time i have on this for right now since i don't have the mental for something super creative and too long, i'm not really sure where this will go, it’s more like word rambling with no direction just seeing where this leads me, but please lmk if you have anything you wanna see. everything is lowercase because this is just gonna be super sloppy from start to finish. im gonna have fun with this so i hope you do too. see you next time!

—> m.list

—> find me on ao3 & twt

--

hoseok records everything because why wouldn’t he? he records absolutely everything because he wants to look back at old times and remember how desperate you became while slurping his dick down. every time you would pull away he would shove you back down, forcing you to deep throat. hoseok would bring the phone right up to your face, flashing light and all so he could get a good image of how pretty and wet your eyelashes would get. “stick it out for me baby, show the camera how you get.” 

obviously, you listen (you’re the best sub) and hoseok loves it. he loves the cockslut you turn into, how dumb you get whenever his dick is pulled from his baggy jeans. begging for him to fill your pathetic hole. sometimes he makes sure you spend weeks without it so you reminisce about how delicious he felt shoving himself brutally into your tight walls.  

hoseok couldn’t wait to show all the members to brag about how disciplined his little subby angel was, watch their expressions fall as you took him like the good girl you were, mouth slack and moaning like a bitch in heat for him. 

and when jungkook starts begging for a turn because he’s never experienced that with anyone in his life. how could he anyways! he was practically forced into the industry at such a young age and didn’t have any time to explore himself sexually. he’s extremely frustrated and wants to experience sex just once in his life!

jungkook begged just once for it, but hoseok hyung was so mean! he would force the younger to watch while he took you from the back and fucked you drunk. jungkook couldn’t do anything, but watch and whine. he would grow desperate hearing you through walls and sometimes even finding your slick-cum filled panties all over the dorm. 

the more he begged the more hoseok pulled back and continued to tease him about it. jungkook thought maybe he could never have you, but for the live shows from time-to-time were enough and the videos hoseok would take after cumming all over your pretty ass, claiming his bitch once and for all. jungkook lives with that for now. he can’t have you, but that is close enough. 

at the same time, hoseok doesn’t think he will ever share you. no questions asked, he’s just too mean, extremely possessive of what is his. he doesn’t share and will never fucking share. for as long as he lives, you will live off his cock and be thankful for all he gives you. 

but hoseok is an extremely hard worker, spending too much time in his studio and hours on end in the practice room. 

fortunately for you, it’s just enough time for the tricks up your sleeve. 

it started off like this, you would wait until you were sure hoseok was gone and didn’t plan on returning home until late. sometimes, he spent nights in his studio, one could never know being on hoseok’s time. 

given that information, jungkook always came home earlier than everyone else, privileges of being the youngest of all members. it’s not at all that he wasn’t hard working, the others simply worked too much and too hard. jungkook was much more lenient about his time and always allowed himself to rest when it was needed. that being said, it was too easy. 

“jungkookie?” 

when he doesn’t reply, you assume he’s either one, showering, or two he’s dozed off. either way, that simply won’t do. 

“jungkookie?” this time you are louder, knocking three times at his door. 

jungkook opens his door, hair disheveled and sleepy wide-eyed. “noona?”

“ah, sorry. i need some help.” jungkook can’t help the way he practically eats you with his gaze, though he tries to hide it. you were in the shortest shorts he’s ever seen and a tank that squeezed your breasts together. that boy would drool over it, if it wasn’t basically forbidden. hoseok made himself very clear, what’s his is his. 

“what can i help you with noona?” sweet and as respectful as ever, jungkook smiles even after you awaken him from his slumber. 

“i wanted to watch a movie in the living room, but for some reason the tv doesn’t wanna turn on. can you help me fix it?” your tone is short of suggestive, but jungkook is as innocent as ever. 

“of course noona, joon hyung probably messed with it this weekend and never bothered fixing it. you know how it is, let me see what i can do.” living in a condo with seven other men usually meant you would constantly run through problems as such. of course by now, you were used to it and nothing ever really bothered you anymore. they were all really kind and respectful of you, regardless of everything they have seen (hoseok really loves to show off what’s his and doesn’t give a damn what anybody thinks, you were perfect for him). whatever you needed or wanted, you would have it. all you had to do was open your mouth and any of the guys would run to the rescue. 

“thank you jungkookie, noona’s sorry for always bothering you.” you really aren’t. 

“nonsense noona! i’ll always do what i can to help you.” jungkook bends down to assess the tv more properly, and for a minute, he actually struggles finding the source of the problem. while he’s turned around, you shove your tank down, making sure your tits nearly hang out of the fabric, just enough to entice him, but he continued his search not bothering to turn back around. 

“jungkookie—” 

“a-ha! found the issue noona, the tv was just unplugged. joon hyung must have forgotten to replug it. all fixed!” jungkook turns back around, proud smile on his face.

“ah! silly me. i must have not noticed.” except for you did because twenty minutes ago, you unplugged it yourself to do exactly what you were about to do next. “well, i’ll let you rest now. don’t mind me. noona will be here watching a movie if you need anything. unless… you want to watch with me? noona’s very lonely these days.”

“what will you be watching?” the younger’s eyes narrow as if contemplating his answer. 

“iron man?” it comes off as a question, although somewhere along the lines you recall jungkook clearly expressing his love for the superhero. you couldn’t be too far off. 

his face immediately lights up. bingo. 

“of course, i’ll watch with you! i’ll be right back, let me bring some popcorn!” with that, he leaves you behind and you make yourself comfortable. thank god jungkook was so clueless, he had yet to even notice your questionable choice of clothing. you were practically selling yourself bare. his eyes dropped from time-to-time, but jungkook was super respectful. at least, he tried to be. 

“didn’t know if you preferred skittles or reeses pieces, but i brought both.” jungkook hands them off, soft smile on his face, his bangs nearly covering his eyes. 

“thank you jungkookie, make yourself comfortable!”

by his own means of comfortability, he plops himself at a very respectful distance from you, too respectful even and it frustrates you a bit, for now you settle that at least you've gotten this far. 

the movie starts off a bit slow for your liking, but jungkook seems to be enchanted by the damn film from the start, not once does he take his eyes off the stupid screen. mouth stuffed with fluffy popcorn as he sips on some soda. 

“want some?” he gestures at the bowl of popcorn and you quickly shake your head. jungkook turns his attention back to the screen and continues watching the movie happily. 

“it’s chilly no?” you say after some minutes, he doesn’t seem to notice you get a bit closer. stalking him like some predator. it’s really not chilly at all, but even if you were, your choice of clothing is not very helpful. 

jungkook pauses and shakes his head. “not really, i’ll bring you a blanket though!”

curse him for being so sweet and cute. at this rate, you’ll get nowhere and it’s frustrating as fuck. 

“here you go, noona. need anything else?” jungkook lays the blanket over you, covering you up entirely. for fuck sake, does he not get the hint. your outfit is practically useless now! 

“no, that’s all for now. thank you, kookie.” the boy melts away, he adores when he hears that nickname from his noona. one thing was for sure, hoseok was extremely lucky. 

the movie carries on and you almost fall asleep midway. from time-to-time, you hear a few audible reactions coming from jungkook. a few gasps here and there as if he hasn’t watched this movie ten thousand other times and you aren’t sure if your vision has gotten worse or if you saw jungkook tear up, he was quick to shake his tears away so you both go on acting as if nothing happened. 

your phone buzzes at some point in the movie and it could only be one other person. 

daddy: send nudes

me: can’t rn

daddy: why not? 

me: watching a movie

daddy: alone?

me: maybe :)

Well, it’s not like you were lying! what he doesn’t know won't kill him. 

daddy: behave baby, wouldn’t want me to tie you to the bedpost while i’m gone 

hoseok has threatened multiple times to do it and although he’s never done it outside of sex, it’s worrisome the way it turns you on. what you would do for a man to want you that much. 

hoseok has made it beyond clear, the members are completely off limits. you just can’t help yourself. 

me: daddy’s so mean :( 

daddy: yeah, the worst.  now do what i asked of you

me: yes daddy

“gonna use the restroom. need something?” jungkook watches as you walk away and quickly shakes his head no. although you can’t see him, you can feel a heavy gaze lingering as you leave the room. shame he doesn’t act on his lust and arousal, but what more can one expect from a nerdy virgin. 

with a couple flicks of your juicy tits, you send them over straight away with a simple kiss emoji and make your way back in no time. 

jungkook doesn’t even notice your presence until you clear your throat. he smiles at you before he turns his attention back. 

daddy: fuck look at you wanna bite those nipples off 

me: come do it i’m so horny daddy

daddy: yeah?  i’ll fuck it out of you this weekend

me: that’s too long, i want it now

daddy: that’s too bad isn’t it? 

me: why are you so mean :( 

daddy: i gotta go, behave  and don't play with yourself you know i don’t like my shit used 

though you are tempted to send the rolling eyes emoji, you hold it in for your sake, you prefer to keep your pussy intact, thank you very much. hoseok is strictly against pleasing yourself while he’s gone and you understand why to some degree. 

it’s like edging, the sex is just ten times better. you both are more horny, your pussy is much tighter— wetter. you're much needier, desperate even. he does it all for good reason, but what can he do about the fact that you just need a little more. maybe you truly are the slut he says you are and you are about to get what you need, one way or another. someone is bound to give it to you. men are dogs either way. 

you throw your phone aside and attempt to watch the movie again, cuddling yourself, though you much rather be bare and bouncing on dick. we can’t have everything in life, sadly. 

“kookie, noona’s still cold.” you say with one last attempt at this. if he really doesn’t break this time, what else can you fucking do. you’ve already thrown yourself bare and he barely moved. 

“oh? should i get another—” jungkook’s words die at his throat when he feels you lay on his chest, your ass sits on his thigh and he nearly chokes on spit. “n-noona.”

“this will work just fine jungkookie, thank you.” 

if hoseok knew the reality of the situation, he would kill you. that itself accelerates you more than anything. 

jungkook is a bit awkward at first, but he eventually comes through and starts getting comfortable himself, even going as far as laying a hand on your back. 

for a few minutes it stays like that, a bit too quiet for your liking, but you could hear his calming breaths as they leave his body. he smells so fresh, a bit of lavender detergent. god, you want to rip him out of his clothes and show him a good time, if only he let you or much better asked you. 

“noona, something is stabbing me. sorry can you?” 

with a confused expression, you pull off and his eyes land on the exact issue. you almost fail to hide the smile creeping its way on your face. 

“oh! sorry, that’s my nipple piercings.” 

jungkook immediately goes red and starts coughing. “oh! no sorry it’s okay, yeah i’m sorry.” 

“have you ever seen nipple piercings in person kookie?” 

jungkook just shakes his head, cheeks still burning pink. “i know jimin-hyung has them, but he doesn’t show them off like that.” 

oh? that was news to you. you’re intrigued, but for now you handle what is in front of you. 

“ah, wanna see?” 

jungkook’s eyes almost fall out of his head. “w-what about hoseok-hyung?” 

“it’s not like we are doing anything wrong? i can just show you quickly, you know, for scientific purposes.” please let this work, you were on your last chance. 

“o-okay.” jackpot. 

you start by lowering one strap and jungkook’s breath hitches as he watches very closely as more skin becomes uncovered. carefully, you pull at both straps until they have fallen and your tits bounce deliciously as they drop from your flimsy tank. 

jungkook stopped breathing seconds ago, without thinking he pokes at the rod of steel, big-eyes curious and full of stars. “is that?”

“bunnies.” you smile at him sweetly. “they’re little bunnies, just like you.” 

without another word said, jungkook clears his throat and turns red. “i- i’m sorry. i shouldn't have touched.” 

you shrug. “it’s okay, i didn’t mind.” 

“does it hurt?” the younger asks while still not being able to take his eyes off. iron man be gone. 

“no, not at all. you can touch, if you want.” 

jungkook seems to contemplate it for a few seconds before his hand covers yours, holding the perfect mounds of flesh in his palms. he thumbs your piercings in awe, he didn’t even know those types of piercings existed. 

for a few seconds, he does just that. he caresses your soft bare skin, barely putting any pressure as he squeezes them. he’s definitely getting a bit handsy and carried away, but who are you to call his attention. plus you don’t mind one bit, in fact this is exactly what you wanted and you got it. 

it ends as soon as it starts. jungkook lets go of your breasts and shyly looks away. he allows for you to tuck them back inside before he looks back over. “t-thank you, noona.”

“of course.” any time is stuck in your throat, but you bite your tongue and instead watch the movie like you both are supposed to be doing. 

the movie resumes as if nothing happened and it eventually ends. you can’t even be disappointed because you got farther than you thought you would have, but tonight you’ll sleep a bit more comfortably. 

“thank you for watching with me jungkookie, see you tomorrow. goodnight.” just as jungkook is about to reply, he feels a soft kiss on his cheek and he freezes once more. the younger’s face instantly flushes and it takes him so long to form words together. jungkook doesn’t believe his luck or is this his punishment? maybe he’s going insane. 

“goodnight.” he breathes out before you slip out of his hands and into your room. a room you share with his hoseok-hyung, god if he ever knew, he would kill you both. 

jungkook sleeps with one eye open that night, feeling guilty and a bit ashamed. he doesn’t even jerk off like he normally does, tossing and turning all fucking night. it’s not his fault, is it? he doesn’t know what he was doing anyways. he’s a total loser and he feels like one. 

in another room, you aren’t even sure what time hoseok makes it back home, but you do feel the instant he roughly pulls you against his body. flush end against his front, he’s super cold from being out so late so you feel yourself shiver in his hold. you aren’t sure if you are shivering because of that or because you’re scared he’ll smell jungkook’s calming scent all over you. who are you kidding though, he won’t. you’ll be fine and it’s definitely all in your head, that’s what you get for trying your luck. 

hoseok remains quiet as he takes a huge whiff of your hair and kisses down your throat gently. his hand is heavy on your stomach, rubbing circles. 

“daddy?” 

“go back to sleep baby.” hoseok’s voice is deep and firm as he whispers and that eases you back to sleep. 

the older tends to stay up a bit longer than you and he doesn’t know if he’s gone mad or if he genuinely smells a different scent on you, but he does. he knows that scent so well, but he knows he must be going crazy. jungkookie? that virgin couldn’t fuck a girl even if she was sent on a silver platter to him. 

hoseok shakes the thoughts out of his head and pulls you in closer, his grip is so tight, almost as if he’s trying to prove his point. he’d be damned if his slut was being used by anyone else than him. 

but just how much were you willing to get away with? 

[anarchy-and-piglins]

Would you like an AU in this trying time?

Honestly, I can't remember if I sent you this one before because it is an older one from my brain, but I woke up with it on the mind. Rotating in my brain.

Anyway, another Dark Vampire AU for you.

Humans are, in a word, extinct. Not that they aren't around, but they don't exist outside captivity anymore.

When technology advanced and cloning became easy and cheap, Vampires no longer saw any reason to hunt and capture their food. Instead, they captured and controlled the whole world, putting humans in their rightful place as domestic food or tamed pets.

Cloning added in a new fun activity for vampires: Design Lines. Human beings genetically designed to taste delicious and to have easy to manage temperaments. A cross between Designer Dogs and GMO foods. Genetic control for the benefit of Vampire Kind.

There is a whole industry for design lines. The high end lines are seen as a way to flaunt one's wealth. Covens brag over what kind of humans they have in their possession like a rich person would talk about rare vintages of wine. Design Lines are ABSOLUTELY a status symbol.

Not all lines are Design Lines. Not all Vampires are rich or powerful, but they still need to eat. There are fodder lines that just get sold for cheap, just so Vampires can eat. Usually, these fodder lines are just Design Lines that were considered failures. Something went wrong in the genetics that made them imperfect. Imperfections are noticed when the human is pretty young, so they immediately go on discount and are bought by less affluent vamps.

However, it's a pretty big rule that Vampires don't bite human kids. It's not a law, but it's considered pretty taboo and Vamps would look down their nose at that. Kids don't have much blood. A vampire could ruin them before they grow. It would be a WASTE.

So, nobody realized how DELICIOUS the Blade line was until they grew much older.

The Blade line was a “failed” designer line. They came out with Pink hair, which was strange but could be waved off. The bigger issue was the temperament.

The Blade line was downright aggressive!

Why were the human kids so angry at being contained? Why didn't they act all docile and sweet? It's soooo weird. No one would want to purchase such an unruly human. So, the Blade line was sold off for pennies while they were still kids, the research for the line was scrapped, and the company responsible for creating them moved on to different projects.

Only for years later to find out that the Blade line had THE MOST DELICIOUS blood.

It becomes a collectors nightmare as suddenly all of these big name covens want to get their hands on one of the Blade line. It was a test line of only about 100 humans. Quite a few are already dead, drained by stupid or starving vampires. Some were killed just because they really are stubborn as hell and Vampires don't always have patience for that in their food. Many covens don't want to part with their sudden status symbols. Others are more than happy to win favor and trade one of the kids to a more powerful coven. It becomes a bit of a craze to try and get a Blade line. The company that created them tries to recreate them, but it never seems to work well.

It's a bit of a mess. A new item went viral and now no one can purchase it sort of mess.

Technoblade was purchased by a mid-grade Vampire coven when he was a kid. The Vampires in the coven aren't starving but they certainly aren't anyone powerful. They tended to buy fodder lines for food, but that was out of practicality and frugality, not desperation. They didn't needlessly throw away food, either. Only when it got too old to be of use anymore.

Technoblade had never been bitten. He was approaching the age that it would be acceptable and he saw the looks that the Vampires gave him, but he was also given a wary look. He HAD broken one of the Coven's nose when he swung a iron pipe at its face during an escape attempt.

He had been punished for that.

Anyways, the coven's wariness means that he is never bitten before the coven finds out what a TREASURE he is. How much he is worth. The coven argues on what to do with him. Keep him for themselves? Sell him for more wealth? It's debated hotly with the coven.

In the end, the decision is made for them when one of them accidentally offends the Antarctic Coven.

The Antarctic Coven demands recompense and the coven that owns Techno is frantic. So they do the only thing they can think of.

They offer their Blade Line human to repay.

That MIGHT have been completely planned by the Antarctic, but who could say?

So, this coven drags Technoblade along with his AKC paperwork to the Antarctic Coven, who act so very surprised to get a Blade Line human. Such a shock. But of COURSE they could forgive random coven, they have given them such a great gift.

Technoblade is less than enthused. Sure, the rooms are nicer and the clothes are fancier, but Techno is still not happy to be stuck in the home of leeches.

Anytime they try to so much as touch him, he tenses and tries to punch (or bite) them. Very feral kitten coded. Technoblade reacts with anger whenever Phil or Wilbur or Tommy coo over him. Over his hair. Over his eyes. It pisses him off even more when they seem to enjoy his scathing insults or glares.

Those ARE all trademarks of what he is, after all.

They DO have to confirm if he is ACTUALLY a Blade. Papers can be falsified, after all. And he COULD be from one of the failed recreations.

Of course, the easiest test for that is blood. To compare his blood to the records or the Blade line. Technoblade is VIOLENTLY opposed to getting blood drawn, even if it isn't through a bite. He's held down by Tommy and Phil while an expert carefully draws blood to be tested. Not only tested for legitimacy, but also for health, individual genetic anomalies, but they also rank it's flavor against the others in the Blade line. Just because you might as well be competitive about that.

Techno ranks in the top five on that. Wilbur laughs that his temper must be why.

Technoblade throws a vase at his face.

But he…doesn't get punished for that.

Some Vampire covens break the spirit out of their food/pets/humans. The Antarctic Coven doesn't care for that mindset. It's boring. It's weak to have to beat a human into submission.

They prefer a softer route.

It's so easy to make a human feel safe. It's so easy to give them softness and be rewarded with gratitude. They are well practiced in gently guiding a human to accept the collar they weld around their throats. The Antarctic Coven has done it time and time again.

They don’t bite a human until they are allowed. Until the human agrees. And, usually, that's pretty easy to do.

Except Technoblade is SO. Fucking. Stubborn.

He WON'T agree!

So they keep trying, using the ante. Upping the gifts and the seeming kindness. Giving him a soft room(only one door to leave), a beautiful window view (iron bars to prevent him leaving) and anything he could ask for(within reason). So why isn't he baring his neck for them????

And in that confusion, they have to ACTUALLY see Technoblade as a person. It's been CENTURIES since they have seen humans as people. Like, sure, they were human once, but they don't remember it. But they start treating Techno as a person and not a pet and things…shift.

They bond. They genuinely see Techno and they love what they've found.

Technoblade starts to enjoy them, as well. Their requests to drink become an inside joke between them, Techno giving colorful refusals.

Of course, eventually there would be a moment where Techno feels like they were just manipulating his emotions. Maybe he overhears another Vampire complimenting them on their methods, throwing them all back to square one.

Technoblade is angry and hurt and glares at them with hatred. He wants nothing from them. They can just take his blood and leave him alone. Stop with the games. Just bite him and take away the illusion that they actually care.

The Antarctic Coven looks between each other and agrees. They decide to bite Techno. Technoblade is in emotional agony and doesn't really notice how much the initial bites hurt. Especially with how euphoric it becomes as the venom numbs. Technoblade's head swims. And swims. Until he falls unconscious.

The Antarctic Coven decided that Technoblade wouldn't be food. He would become one of them. Changed. The only time they bit him as a human was to make him into one of them.

Technoblade sleeps for a decade, the change very very slow. And there are quite a few people who think that the Antarctic Coven have lost their minds. They gave up a priceless treasure. But The Antarctic Coven sees that Vampirekind lost something when they ruined Humanity. Like, they had truly destroyed Humanity. The concept of Humanity. And the vain and bored Vampires couldn't even see it.

Technoblade is going to be angry when he wakes, but that value that about him, not as a pet but as himself.

Lenn, words can't express how obsessed I've been with this one lately, I've been on a vampire AUs and bloodbag AUs kick lately the concept is so good and can be done in so many ways ranging from hurt/comfort to dark to fluffy and this one is just -ferally tears up the couch cushions-

[hippopotamusdreamer]

Witch's Son

genre. [PS][F][AU]

warnings. None?

additional notes. Female! Reader | You/Your pronouns, not proofread lol

pairing. Felix x Reader

w.c. 1,043

a/n. This is for Fall Cryptid season!

Kpop Masterlist

Fandom Masterlist

Fall Cryptid List

He was always handsome in your opinion, the witch’s son. Others in the community would even agree with you. Hair and personality of the sun and face filled with stars. A man unlike any other even if you never knew his name. Occasionally, he would be seen foraging in the forest for his mother. Ingredients for her many potions and elixirs no doubt.

You’d catch a glimpse of him every now and then when he was on his way to the forest’s edge. The route he took just so happened to be past your bakery. As you would set up whatever treat of the day on display, you’d see the familiar head of blonde walking past the front window.

Your shop was pretty well known in the area. Along with regular treats, you also offered food with minor…tweaks. You were only 1/3 of a witch yourself from your father’s side. Unfortunately, there was a cap to how much magic a halfa (part magical creature, part human) could produce. But you weren’t complaining. You wouldn’t even know what to do with all that power should you have had it.

No, what you could do now was just enough in your opinion. Ever wanted to have a conversation with the family pet, try the strawberry acorn animal scone. Or how about easing the aches and pains of the daily grind with a Get Better Blondie? Perhaps even just blessing your breath with regular garlic butter dinner rolls to get rid of unwanted mothers-in-law’s? If you could think it, Leviathan’s Crest could bake it.

. ��� ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

It was on a random Tuesday morning that you had realized a mistake.

Last week you were supposed to reorder ingredients for the next two weeks. Sadly, you’d been distracted by a wedding cake order for a gorgon party. A three tiered marble cake with a rock solid base. You had a fun time delivering the finished product; they even gave you a mini statue of the bride and bride as a wedding favor.

Regardless of the good time, you’d shirked your obligations and now present you was suffering for it. It was too late to order for the recipes now but you’d still need to order it for the next day. Your lavender lotus loaves were one of your hot ticket items and they needed to be made for the day. With your meager powers, each loaf was able to make the customer feel a serenity that’d put the CBD shoppe to shame. And not to brag or anything but they were fucking delicious.

It was as you were about to run out of your shop to Kochi’s Bazaar, the germakochi owned spice bazaar that was home to the most pungent spices, Turkish delights, caviar, dried nuts, and more, that you ran into something, or rather, someone instead.

“Oh!” A deep voice yelled in surprise.

“Oh my god!” you exclaimed.

There before you stood the man of your fantasies. You were absolutely gobsmacked. This man was absolutely STUNNING, with a capital STUN.

‘Daaaaamn, he looks better up close.’

“You alright?”

‘And an accent???’ Your internal monologue was just going haywire.

“Uh…yeah,” you said, trying to pull yourself together. “No yeah, I’m…I’m ok. Sorry for running into you.”

He smiled brightly at your flustered form, grinning from ear to ear. “It’s fine. No harm done.”

You both stood in front of your bakery waiting for the other to speak.

“You’re not closing up early are you? The day hasn’t even started,” He asked, finally breaking the silence while glancing from you to the bakery.

“Sort of? For now anyways.”

He gave you a questioning look that made you want to elaborate immediately.

“I ran out of one the key ingredients that I needed to make one of my specialty loaves. I was gonna head on over to Kochi’s to see if he had anything in stock.”

“Oh no! …I think I heard my mom saying that Kochi’s not here right now,” he said with an apologetic look.

“What!?” You hadn’t heard anything about Kochi leaving.

“Yeah! He, uh, went back to Turkey for a family emergency or…something.”

“Crap, what am I gonna do now?” you mumbled to yourself.

“You know, I was heading to the forest just now, I could see if I can find whatever it is you need.”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly trouble you…”

You never got his name…

“Felix,” He answered with a crooked smile.

“Felix,” you repeated softly, his smile turning into a grin once again.

“It’s no trouble at all Y/N. Just tell me what you need.”

Is your brain short circuiting? Did he just check you out? No right?

“L-Lavender..?”

“Lavender?”

Clearing you throat, you nodded.

“Alright, I’ll keep an eye out. I know a spot that should have some, be back in an hour. Hope that’s ok.”

“Yeah that’s fine, I’ll prepare something else in the meantime. As a thank you, I’ll give you one of whatever you want and a drink of your choice for free.”

“I’ll look forward to it,” he said while walking away, grin still plastered on his face.

You stared after him for a few moments before realizing what you were doing. Face flushing in embarrassment, you ran inside your bakery to get started on a different treat to put out.

But it was when you were mixing in the some wolfsbane to a muffin mixture that you realized, you’d never given Felix your name before, so how did he…?

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Felix didn’t know if Kochi was really out of town or not as he walked down his usual path towards the forest. The route was actually out of the way from his mother’s place but he had his reasons for coming this way.

What he did know was that he finally got the chance to talk to the cute baker he’d been crushing on for the past who knows how long. He couldn’t keep the smile off his face even if he tried.

Something stirred in the air as he walked, and it wasn’t the magic that thrummed in his veins.

This in no way reflects the actual persons involved/based in this fic, nor their actual character. This is purely fiction.

© hippopotamusdreamer, est 2024. all rights reserved.

[warsamongthestars]

I became curious about something; how different do you think things would go if someone else but Crosshair had a 'functioning chip'? Say Hunter was the one 'loyal' to the Empire. Because then the rest of the Batch would suddenly stand leaderless for instance. Ignoring the bad writing of the show of course. (Sorry if you've covered this somewhere already.)

I prolly have covered it? I don't think so, but I also don't remember, and I am doomed to inevitably repeat things as all who forget their history are will to do...

I think that the situation is an interesting story to explore.

But if it followed TBB's logic, it would be one that, unfortunately, would inevitably done the same things that occur in TBB, without fail and maybe with only minor to insignificant one-line differences.

( Almost word per word, exactly like a fanfiction rewrite that spends a majority of its time just copy pasting lines word per word without taking it stories into new directions... just merely adding scenes that get a Mature Rating slapped on )

Because TBB is not, in fact, written to tell stories but sell you something for attention and subscription money. It was never going to be deep, it was only going to bank on hype, rush and attention-of-the-moment; and it was never going to follow any kind of character or character arc beyond how it affects their OC and the OC's rival character.

So to follow the lines of this logic, to follow TBB, is to place Hunter as Omega's anime rival... and it would be just like Crosshair's arc, if not exactly. Maybe a change of planet, maybe a change from sniper rifle to combat knife, exchange the energy bow for a vibrosword, but the result wouldn't be any different.

BUT.

If we were to follow the line of thinking, with the idea that unique characters make the plot, they are not made by the plot... And that means following the character as they are introduced and presented, with all implications in mind, with the world build of Star Wars and the set up of the Clone Wars...

And of course, adding the best parts-- human experience and human imagination in a beautifully gruesome mesh-like disaster...

It starts with the fact that the Bad Batch are killers first and foremost. They brag about putting down insurrections and killing the people involved [the Yalbec story from the Bad Batch arc of season 7. The implications behind their bragging are horrifying, so I grabbed popcorn.], as well as the fun additional information that suggests why there was an insurrection [ I'd be pretty pissed too if my giant bug mother was hunted down and killed because her stinger was delicious to some cultures, and even more so if the Republic we're apart of does nothing about it. ]

They all follow the Empire, because its easy. Even better, they're highly regarded for their skills, probably finally get a paycheck with benefits. To the bad batchers, there really isn't much difference between the Empire and the Republic, the Empire is just the Republic with the shackles off anyway, and they're just continuing what they've been doing since deployment.

But because the chip runs on regular clone genome, not their mutant modified brains, that's when conflict would begin arise.

That's the sciencey-bullshit explanation.

The narrative-bullshit explanation, is that the strongest parts of each character can break through the evil-artifact's influence, provided that what is strong about them isn't what the evil-artifact attaches / attacks.

That's a general set up. So let's add your suggestion as a spark point to get stories going moving forward. Setting up the setting is all nice and dandy, but we need Ideas now.

So let's add in the idea that while everyone knows something is probably wrong, but can't quite put their finger on it, they know that there is obviously up with Hunter.

He's colder, he's more vicious, he's not the anxious compulsive snarker now, he's seemingly more a perfect soldier than any reg. Orders are absolute and be damned to anyone in the way.

( It was already noticed that the regs are acting like that too, regardless if they were like that before, and this on the backburner of the minds of the Bad Batch. But because most of the Bad Batchers are "special" (save Echo, who is freaking out) they don't consider themselves to be as knee deep in the cacky as they actually are. )

Echo is the very first one to call it out. He knows something is wrong. His brothers aren't acting right, the Bad batch have been getting these odd headaches, and Hunter has done a total 180. But given that Echo is new, the rest of the Batch try to confront Hunter.

( The jedi are dead. Echo saw the massacre reports and recordings via his new built-in hacking skills. Rex is dead, Jesse is dead, Kix is dead--everyone he has ever known, is gone. And if they're not gone, they are certainly not them anymore. Echo wants desperately to trust his squad--they're the only ones left... )

They send Wrecker first, because its hard to do anything to Wrecker. Wrecker's general warmhearted rough housing, results in being yelled at and given a vicious cold shoulder. Wrecker leaves Hunter alone, and becomes depressed.

Then its Tech, who isn't a socialite by any means, and tries to break the ice, so to speak, with fun information facts he's learned. When Hunter ignores him, Tech skips right into direct confrontation, breaking down that there is something wrong going on and they're in the middle of it, Hunter shuts him down. Tech leaves Hunter alone, and copes by putting his mind to a nearby droid project, and never saying a word to anyone.

Then the big one, Crosshair. Second in command, confident and in control, and the biggest asshole when he has had it with someone. He straight up confronts Hunter, no preamble, though unlike the avoidant Wrecker or the bullheaded Tech in confrontations, Crosshair hits his marks.

"You weren't like this before." "You're acting like a Reg." "Since when did we care about Orders?" "Since when did we care about missions beyond surviving them and the GAR?" "You notice how the Empire is killing regs enmass?" "You're going to led us to our death with that attitude."

( It should be noted, that Hunter's original self, has just enough capacity over his chipped brainwashing to not report his brothers, nor to execute them for defying Order 66. )

( This is not enough, however, to stop him from retaliating with the full force of a wild animal. )

Hunter and Crosshair end up in a fight. Hunter, at his worst, is a vicious dirty fighter who uses his environment and flexibility and stealth, to take down an opponent. He is wicked wiht a knife and small arms, Crosshair's absolute weakness as a primarily long ranged fighter. Hunter, chip or no chip, does not attack to kill his brothers, but Crosshair is dragged to medical afterwards for an "incident with a training droid".

Echo has had enough. Lines have been crossed, he has been told to sit back and wait for the team to handle it, his own feelings are a chaotic mess, and now his alarms are going off.

Whatever is going on with the clone army and with Hunter, its not something that can be reasoned with, and its certainly not something that can be done about when under the scrutiny of these natborn officers.... These new officers who would order public staff executions, and gods knows what else they do to the planets they occupy...

The only decision is to run and maybe, find a way to help from the outside, because they're not doing shit here.

( with dragging of feet and looming disaster in their minds ("We're just, leaving Hunter behind!?"), it doesn't take much for Echo to convince the remaining squad that they can't handle Hunter right now, but maybe, just maybe, they can find help and get him later. )

( "He'll be fine, he has to be fine, they aren't going to kill him because of our failure, that'd just be a... waste of resource," says Echo, "We just need to sell it like its a mutiny." )

They do. Hunter is hard to deal with one on one, but collectively (well, minus a wounded Crosshair) its easy to cause a scene and punch his lights out in front of cameras.

The tricky bit is running to the Havoc Marauder. They are, of course, successful, but not without some strange, unseen, outside help from a blond haired clone cadet we haven't seen up onto this point. To CF99, it just seems like coincidence that the blast doors reopen as they're closing, and that training droids are suddenly flooding hallways.

They fly off.

And that would be... well, at least the first five episodes maybe? No TV show movie or 1 hour episode start, just, full on first quarter of season 1.

This is just my idea of it... but it starts with setting Echo up as the leader of the Bad Batch, and it does not involve Omega having center stage, but merely being an implied part of plot to be revealed later.

As for what happens going forward, that depends on what we want them to face. Do we want them inevidably heading to Wayland? Does Wayland even exist as it does in TBB or is it something else? Does Pabu exist or maybe are we canonizing old media planets into the Disney verse? Does Cid exist or is someone else around?

The best thing about a over arching episodic story... is that you can literally do anything, as long as you know the world build and the rules of the "game". There's a lot more that can be done in the STar Wars sandbox than just rehashing familiar shit for kudos and likes.

But we can set up a few things from what we know prior and from what this set up already has.

Rex is out there, starting the Rebellion, and he's working to free clones--which is perfect in order to get Hunter back. This also sets up the reveal of the chips as well as the fact that it was Fives who discovered them, and it was only by slim chance, that Rex ever escaped in the first place.

Crosshair would understand the logic of leaving Hunter, but the emotional impact of leaving a brother for potential dead, would immediately make him a rival challenging character to Echo. The writing rules of this situation, however, is to make him merely a rival, not a saboteur. Just because someone is a dick, doesn't mean they're going to unscrew the ship engine and tell the enemy where you're at. This is very important to keep in mind.

Each Bad Batcher would have an episode to come to terms with leaving Hunter, facing what their relationship with him meant to them, and dealing with the possibility that he may or may not come back. Part of this is returning to a post-battle Kamino and finding 99 was killed, which would play into why each Batcher is anxious.

Just as well, for emotional character scores that doesn't involve the plot or grief, each Batcher gets an episode to face the galaxy on their own merits, potentially leading them to a finale arc later on for when this initial over-arching plot is over, as a way to either allow the next over-arching plot or to retire the character for now. Rule of writing? It has to bee on their merits alone, not detailing their relationship with their team.

Of course we're going to have team episodes that help define to the audience what kind of relationship with batcher has with one another.

And we're gonna need episodes where the Bad Batchers butt heads with Echo as Echo leads a team that he wasn't a vital part of, and didn't share much history with.

Obviously we have to save Hunter. None of this 3 years separation-dangle-him-in-your-face shit. And Just as the other batchers get their own character episodes, both for their histories and themselves facing the world--Hunter needs those too without the looming threat of the chip. But before we get there, we're going to have fun with his chip episodes but allowing him to have an evil arc with obvious internal conflict--as his true self fights with the evil outside forces controlling his life.

I know I don't like her as she's treated in TBB, but Omega would be an interesting character to use without putting her in the spotlight. We do need someone around who knows their medical. Just maybe she's integral to freeing Hunter...

Because I love a dose of self indulgence, and every writers needs that in their stories, each Batcher gets a Chip episode or Chip Arc in some fashion. Enough to ensure character conflict and growth, and also to inspire fans to create their own Chip AUs. Could be that, because of how CF99 was made, removing their chips are a lot more complicated than just a brain operation on a derelict ship.

New Clones introduced of course. Perhaps those who would've filled in for clones who died in TCWs--like, since Commander Ponds die, who was Windu's new Commander for the rest of the war? And those from TBB, cos let's face it, thems were awesome too. Mayday might just survive this time!

No Guest Characters. If there are, they need to have a serious connection to clones, other wise, someone is robbing story and character for cameo rights, and that's not how you make a story. This is a clone story.

If we're gonna have Rex, we need Cody. Cody needs to be totally chipped as a foremost example of how bad the chip gets. He's meant to serve exactly as he's intended, as he's done in all his appearances, and in this case, he needs to additionally be Rex's rival and antagonist character.

And the final writing rule, the most important one...

Clone stories need to have an element of tragedy and finality. You don't have to kill a main character to get it, but there is no happy ending here.

The happy ending is performed by Luke Skywalker in "Return of the Jedi".

We can only achieve Bittersweet, at best. Everyone can live, and still lose.

Its by this rule, that Order 66 really is the tragedy its born to be and not just an excuse for the plot to get rid of all the Jedi characters.

We should see its direct effects as a clone story, and not just some one handed episode that never becomes relevant again. When this story ends, the loose ends should be on purpose as a message of "Because of the events leading to this story, this rope is permanently cut and can never be tied again. This is not a place of honor, we are survivors of the worst and the world cannot be fixed."

...

I wasn't expecting to write a full episode with a concept board attached, but damn, here you go, a full novel for your question.

[moraxsthrone]

~♡ title — kind

~♡ pairing — arataki itto x f!reader

~♡ wc — 1k

~♡ warnings/notes — racism/discrimination (against oni). misogyny. fluff. please let me know if i should include anything else. and omg look at all that swagger in the gif. that's how a guy walks when he has a big dick i'm js.

sunlight danced along the streets of inazuma, tiny pinpoint beams shining through the fluttering spaces of sakura blooms as you walked along the stone path, arm in arm with your boyfriend. you’d just left one of the food stands in the city after eating the matcha flavored mochi you ordered. itto had gotten the lavender melon mochi and sakura taiyaki, both of which he’d already scarfed down before ordering tri-color dango for the road. 

you strolled along, listening to him brag about his latest onikabuto victory when you suddenly grabbed his wrist, bringing his snack to your mouth to chomp off a chunk of the white dango. 

“h-heyyy! you can’t just go stealing my dango like that!” he fussed. 

you leaned into his side, laughing so hard at his reaction you had to cover your mouthful of food. 

he stopped walking and leaned over, getting right in your face. “give me that back, ya thief!” he demanded, smiling while trying to capture your lips in a kiss, but you turned your head this way and that, chewing as quickly as possible while trying to dodge his kisses and laugh all at the same time. he finally caught your jaw with his large hand and forced you to hold still long enough to get that kiss. “HA! you steal my food, i steal your kisses!” 

you swallowed the delicious treat, still giggling. “i’m just going to steal more of your food if it means i get more of your kisses.” 

“baby, you don’t have to steal from me. i’ll give ya all the kisses you want for free. besides, haven’t you ever heard the saying ‘don’t stand between an oni and his food'?’” 

“i don’t think anyone says that, itto.” 

“yeah? that’s because i just made it up,” he said, making you laugh again. “but that doesn’t make it any less true!” 

you opened your mouth to remind him that he’s always sharing his food with you anyway when a voice called out from behind you. 

“hey, pretty lady! you should leave that oni and stick with your own kind!”

you and said oni both turned your heads. knowing itto was the ‘one and oni’ oni around meant there was no one else the man could’ve been referring to. there were a few other men with him, laughing and making remarks about how lowdown and dirty oni were, clearly disgusted with the fact that a human had 'yoked' with one.

“humans have no business mixing with oni, especially the women-folk! why don’t you come over here and let me show you what a real man can do!”

you hadn’t been with itto for a year yet and had already heard more than your fair share of derogatory and disapproving remarks from other humans about your relationship with the crimson oni. most of your fellow inazumans didn’t seem to pay much mind, but there were those dark pockets of humanity - scratch that - unevolved ignorance that still believed oni and humans had no business being together, particularly in a romantic context. theirs was the very mindset that took the lives of itto’s parents two decades ago, but that’s a story for another day.

now, if itto was alone or with his crew, he wouldn’t hesitate to puff his chest out and challenge a motherfucker, but he’s with you and the two of you were supposed to be enjoying this lazy, romantic afternoon together. he'd even given his gang explicit orders not to interrupt his time with you unless it was an emergency that couldn’t wait till the next morning afternoon. 

your boyfriend's lava-hued irises burned holes through the asshole’s skull for a few seconds before he looked down at you and begrudgingly muttered, “let’s go, babe.” he went to put his arm around your shoulders and walk away, and you’re not sure who was more surprised, but you spun away from his hold and did an about face to look directly at the shit-talking douchenozzle who had just disrespected you and your beloved oni. in the past, you’d always kept walking, ignoring their hate, but…

“no, you know what? i’ve had about enough of this shit,” you sneered, drawing an invisible line in the air with your fingernail. “i’m tired of hearing cowards like you talking shit about me and my oni when our backs are turned. he may not be 100% human, but he’s twice the man you’ll ever be! wanna put that theory to the test, then step to him and say that shit to his face instead of waiting ‘til his back is turned!”

itto’s jaw dropped, his wide eyes watching in amazement as you - his sweet, graceful y/n - tore into the racist asshole in a way that made new light shine through the cracks of his heart.

“fuck you, bitch!” the hater said.

itto took a step forward, opening his mouth to defend your honor, but you beat him to the punch.

“no, thanks,” you said, putting your hand on your jutted hip. “your dick’s probably only half the size of his too!”

“y/n-” itto leaned down, mumbling out the side of his mouth. “they don’t need to know all that-”

“if you really think i shouldn’t be with him, then come take me away from him,” you dared, arms spread open. 

behind you, itto shifted his weight, squaring his shoulders and crossing his arms over his strapped chest like a king prepared to go to war with his queen. but the man didn’t move. in fact, one of the man’s friends leaned in, telling him to just cut his losses.

as expected, the man tucked tail and walked away, grumbling something under his breath about you being a traitor. rich, you thought, considering you’d just stood up for someone you love and believe in. 

you turned to your oni lover, his eyes searching yours as if seeing something new and admirable. “baby,” he said softly, “i-...”

you think he’s still trying to calm you down. “i’m not sorry, itto!”

“i know. which is exactly why i…”

it was one of the few times arataki itto had been rendered speechless, thinking to himself that now was a good time to pull out the ring he’d been carrying around in his pocket and get down on one knee.

“…wanna spend the rest of my life with ya.”

~♡ itto m.list

~♡ reblogs always appreciated !! 💋

[kootiepatra]

#FFxivWrite2024 - Day 13: Butte

[BE WARNED: MAJOR DAWNTRAIL SPOILERS up through pretty much the end of 7.0]

Under the "Read More" break to help anyone still needing to avoid spoilers.

Keimwyda stepped out onto the balcony of the Hhusatahwi Saloon with a sigh, inhaling the dry desert air that was rapidly cooling along with the setting of the sun. 

Estinien had recommended this establishment so highly that she felt she must try its fare before heading back to Eorzea—though she did opt not to inquire whether or not they served sabotender. What she had instead was indeed delicious: a cut of rroneek that had been slowly smoked over hickory until it nearly fell apart on the plate, drenched in a sweet yet spicy sauce, alongside a generous serving of legumes and Turali corn. She could honestly now report to Estinien that it was worth the special trip.

However, she had never been much for rowdy crowds or for strong drink, and the saloon had an abundance of both. The bartender was doing an admirable job of trying to convince overeager patrons to leave her alone and stop offering to buy her a round—or in some cases, challenge her to arm wrestling or drinking contests—but he was just one man, and the joy of victory hung too freshly in the atmosphere.

There were not many Eorzeans in these parts. Thus it was not at all hard for the saloon’s regulars to mark well the tall, lavender-haired foreigner who had aided the Vow of Resolve in recent battles. Zekowa’s enthusiastic bragging didn’t help. Everyone was friendly, but Twelve preserve, they were boisterous and they were many. At last, when the crowd got swept up in a rousing song and folk dance, Keimwyda seized the opportune distraction to slip outside for a moment of quiet. Quiet-er, anyway.

She cast her eyes across the arid plains and drank in the surroundings. Tonight’s sunset was breathtaking, indeed: the sky nearly as orange as the rocky buttes which cut a silhouette against it, the clouds taking on a shade of magenta not unlike the fruits of the nopalitenders meandering across the landscape. Off in the distance, the rickety-looking towers of Sheshenewezi Springs stood stark against the sky, each erupting with a luminous spray of ceruleum, a shock of azure leaping above the terra cotta hills.

And, of course, looming in the distance and despoiling it all, was the roiling, violet, unsettlingly-perfect dome which yet encased all of Yyasulani.

Keimwyda sighed to herself, leaned on the railing, and let her head hang for a moment as she once more tried to process what all she had seen. She still struggled to know how to feel about it. As far as she could tell, the people of Alexandria—the majority of them, anyway—had nothing to do with their relocation to the Source. They did not choose it. Many did not even know it was possible until it had already happened. She met many of them whom she liked, and a few who had been instrumental to her and her allies’ opposition of Zoraal Ja. As far as first impressions of cities went, she had experienced worse.

Even so, it was difficult to fully separate the people who had done no wrong from the thunderous monstrosity that had invaded and blighted the land.

Her heart hurt for Erenville. For his home. For his mother—his real mother. For all the Turali people who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, and lost thirty years in the blink of an eye. Even with Alexandria’s ingenious farming techniques, that lightning barrier had withered the land, nearly beyond recognition. 

She could not deny that Everkeep was impressive. She had not felt so dwarfed by a place since Amaurot. And there was a strange sort of beauty to its artificiality—once one was inside of it, anyway. 

Solution 9 was unlike anything she’d ever seen. Lifelike illusions of beautiful people smiled down from large displays along every street. In fact, there were artistic renderings of all sorts all over the city, ever in motion, ever-changing, painted in brushstrokes of bright light. It was clean, it was airy—it had even managed to stock its parks with living plants, which was actually a touch homier than the Loporrits had managed in Greatest Endsvale. Everything was bathed in a striking glow of blues and pinks. And of course, the electrope mechanical marvels casually saturating every street corner were enough to set one’s mind to spinning, were one to truly consider it all. Keimwyda had no doubt that Koana was already taking feverish notes and brainstorming applications.

And the people, on the whole, did seem happy. Of course there were the Alexandrians who had long called the place home, but many even of Turali heritage had adapted to it—even loved it—and come to rely on its comforts. Especially those children born there, who had never known anything else, who did not know why they might care that they had never seen the sun.

All of this, of course, did not balance out the catastrophe of how many people had been robbed of thirty years—nay, robbed of their entire way of life, with no warning, and no ability to leave.

She wanted to be open minded and kind, but. It all still felt so wrong. Receiving Alexandria’s fleeing refugees would have been one thing; Keimwyda would have been energetically in favor of that. But to simply fuse their reality to that of the Source, undeterred by the grave cost to the people who already lived there? To destroy the existing reality of those who were not to blame for Alexandria’s woes, and had no say in their future? Keimwyda could understand Sphene’s desperation, but she could not forgive her for that.

Heritage Found didn’t belong here. It should never have come here. If it had been teleported here, then it must be possible to send it back. 

…But she could not shake the suspicion that it was a bit too late for that. She was not even fully sure there would be much of a shard left to send it back to, should the scholars of this realm eventually grasp how to do so. And of course, there was no restoring that lost time, no undoing the trauma of its arrival.

Keimwyda did not envy Lamaty’i or Koana for the decisions they would soon have to make.

[thirstnotes]

| Rivals to Lovers - Clark Kent - Part Nine - No Strings Clark |

Pairings: Clark Kent x AFABBlackPlusSizedReader

Warnings: jealous Clark, Clark Kent in love, language, dirty thoughts, typos, more smut eventually, minors DNI, morally gray Clark, a little angst, thirst, mutual pining, fake dating

Ya'll, I've been both busy and unmotivated. I'm so sorry this update took so long. But I hope ya'll enjoy it all the same!

If you don't like it, don't read it.

That night was too satisfying to be real

You were deliciously sore from being in positions you hadn't been in for months

Farm boy had some moves

Sorry

Superman*

You woke to the smell of breakfast. Bacon and coffee specifically. Your tummy rumbled as you rose, running the details of last night through your mind over and over. It was a simple equation, but you just couldn't comprehend it:

Clark wanted you.

+

Clark was Superman.

=

Superman wanted you.

It lingered in your mind as you took a quick shower. What even was this? Had Clark been making a statement, or was he just horny after all the kissing, touching and pretending at class yesterday? You didn't know what to think.

Even if he did have feelings for Lois, what happened last night was clearly an explosion of shared tension between you. It was an explosion of something.

The heavy feeling of irony hit you as you walked quietly up the hall and caught sight of him standing at the stove. It felt so domestic and normal. Which was the last thing you thought a morning with Superman would be.

He didn't look up, but his lips twitched into his usual smirk as he plated the rest of the food.

It was quite the spread

French toast sticks, pancakes, bacon, eggs, donuts from your favorite bakery

It was like he was trying his best to put his best foot forward

It was kind of odd to see him so eager to please someone other than Lois

It almost made you want to forget how annoyed you were with him for not telling you his secret sooner

almost

But you weren't sweating it too much

After all, you understood why

It didn't stop you from being annoyed

But you understood

"I didn't know what you might want, so I made a few options," he said with a shrug, eyes flickering between you and the table.

So cute.

You bit back a laugh, not wanting to seem rude.

"It's...a lot. But it's fine," you half-joked, reaching for a piece of bacon. He watched your reaction quietly, pleased when you hummed in approval and took another bite.

"Sleep well?"

"You tell me," you shot back, rolling your eyes, though your small smirk betraying you. You couldn't stop smiling and you knew he noticed.

"I'd say you did, but I think that'd be bragging to some degree, wouldn't it?" he sassed, pouring some orange juice and adding it to the table.

You laughed as you sat down, a hint of hoarseness in the sound also betraying your reaction.

"Maybe a lil bit. Where'd a nice dude like you learn to use your mouth like that anyway?" you asked, feeling an ache between your thighs at the mention of his mouth.

"The truth? Eating peaches," he laughed saucily, taking a bite of a bagel.

You couldn't help but cackle at that. "Seriously?"

"Mmh. Very similar," he hummed, taking a sip of juice. He paused, as though remembering something important, and dug something from his pocket. Your phone--correction--your cracked phone, was vibrating as he handed it to you.

"Oh shit, I totally forgot," you gasped, inspecting the damage, "Thanks."

Last night was such a blur, you'd forgotten you'd even dropped it

He must have gotten it after you'd fallen asleep.

"Someone's called you three times, back to back," he said, his eyes rolling back to his breakfast, "Gonna assume it's your boyfriend."

You felt your heart leap a bit. It was unclear if it was guilt or excitement. Maybe it was the way he said it. "He's not my boyfriend."

His eyes met yours again. "Does he know that?"

You couldn't confirm to be honest, but you didn’t want him to know that. "I'm pretty sure he does. We never agreed to a relationship."

"I'm no expert, but I think tickets to Prague is a pretty solid step in that direction," he said, sipping water this time. You gawked at him with an astonished laugh.

"Okay, Mr. Man of Steel. First of all. No more using your powers to spy on me."

"Noted," he said, arms folded, smirk still solidly in place. It wasn't a confirmation that he wasn't going to, but at least he knew it annoyed you. He watched you patiently for the next item on the list and you scrounged your brain to find it.

"Second. Bruce is not my boyfriend." He rolled his eyes at that, but you continued anyway. "Even if I do go to Prague with him."

"Whatever helps you sleep," he laughed again with a skeptical snort that irked you.

“I- You know what? Why am I even explaining this to you?!”

“Beats me,” he shrugged, getting up and rounding the table. His eyes held yours as he did so, and he seemed a lot like a predator stalking his prey.

You kinda liked it.

He loomed over you, propping his hands on the back of your chair and the edge of the table, dipping in just low enough to hover just beyond your lips. “Maybe you’re getting defensive because you feel like you’re cheating.”

You looked like a goldfish, trying to find your will to argue. At the last minute, as he pulled back with his irritatingly sexy smirk, you’d found it.

“I just-It’s not cheating if I’m not dating anybody.”

He hummed at that, rounding your chair and walking over to the tv to switch it off. "You don't have to convince me. I agree. In fact, I personally feel like the further you are away from that guy, the better.”

You had to wonder why he hated Bruce so much, but you decided against asking, since you probably weren’t going to get a straight answer anyway

Besides, your mind was more preoccupied with how sinful he looked in a simple tee and sweats

“But,” he continued, sitting back across from you, taking another generous sip of water, “I support whatever you wanna do. It’s your life. Whatever you two do is your business.”

“I appreciate that,” you said, glad he wasn’t trying to tell you who you could allow in your life. Because Superman or not, he would’ve caught it. Still, the aesthetic of Clark being jealous made your body simmer with a little bit of excitement.

“That said, whatever happens between us is our business, right?”

He looked at you expectantly and you had an eerie sense of deja vu from when he'd asked you to be his fake girlfriend in the first place.

"I guess."

A chill ran up your spine and your mind raced with many curious thoughts that fought to stay inside.

A few of which had to do with whether he was trying to fuck you purely to annoy Bruce

Or if he legit felt something for you

Then again, what if it were both?

What if Bruce was making him jealous?

In the incredibly slim chance that he liked you beyond being a fuck buddy

It was stressful not knowing

"You have a question," he said, matter-of-factly, eyes lowering to his breakfast again. He ignored the startled look you gave him in favor of another bite of eggs.

"What makes you say that?"

"I just know."

That was an odd thing to hear

But it made sense considering who you were talking to

He was probably used to that kind of thing

But the fact that he knew you so intimately and said as much so nonchalantly, was kind of strange

But also kind of hot

"Okay...Fine. You're right. I do," you said, now suddenly conscious of the occasional thud in your chest. His pretty blue eyes met yours again curiously and you nearly melted. It was your turn to look back to your breakfast, which you didn't really feel like finishing.

"So is this Lois thing a lie...or did you just change your mind?"

His eyes drifted off to the side as if trying to carefully word it. "I love Lois, yeah. I probably always will," he said and you felt your heart drop a little, hopes a bit dashed.

It wasn't anything new from what you'd thought in the first place

Still, it still stung to hear him say it aloud

Even if you were sitting across from him in nothing but his t-shirt

He continued, but your phone rattling on the surface of the table startled you. Clark's eyes rolled to the side as you checked it.

"Oh."

"Bruce again?"

He gave you a look before you could even ask how he knew that and you were pretty certain that "he just knew".

"Yeah, I just. Finish your thought?" you shrugged, really wanting to hear him out. He paused, taking a deep breath.

"I just really like you," he said, the lingering pause between you making you wonder if there was something more he wanted to say. The way it made him sound like an awkward dork afraid of rejection made you tingle inside. You bit back a laugh and rolled your eyes.

Quite a bit more flustered than you let on

It wasn't LOVE

You didn't have a hold on him like Lois did

But he liked you

You had your answer

For now that was enough

Both of your priorities were clear now

He was comfortable with you like you were with him

"I like you too, Clark," you admitted genuinely. It was a relief to say it directly to him even if it was the understatement of the year.

"What did he want, anyway? Bruce, I mean?" he asked and you were finally back on track with your thoughts.

"He's gonna be in town a few days longer and wanted to know if I wanted to hang out today," was all you supplied. Though you wondered how much more he knew.

A small smirk played at his lips and he sipped his juice. "You wanna take off soon?"

He did say "soon"

It wasn't as if he were hurrying you off or anything

Which was good because you weren't in any hurry to leave

"Actually...I was thinking I could hang out with you today," you said, not really fully knowing yourself where you were going with this.

The implication didn't go over his head either. Even if this was a convenient arrangement for the both of you, that didn't mean you couldn't both enjoy it. His smile grew.

"What'd you have in mind?"

(Part 10) (Part 8)

[bunnyanqel]

Playing Along (1)

[1] [2] [3] [4]

Summary: When Eddie comes to Maggie with that kicked-puppy look and sheepish boyish grin, she can't say no to helping him keep up the ruse he's been peddling out to some weed dealer. And, well, she just plain can't say no to those big brown eyes anyway.

Warnings: NSFW, smut, dirty talk, slight power imbalances, accidental voyeurism, public sex, exhibitionism, car sex, safe sex

｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ ﾟ。 also on AO3 ! 　ﾟ･｡･ﾟ

The only decent about Maggie’s job was Eddie Munson, aka the boss’s kid. While he technically was Wayne’s nephew, that didn’t make the taboo thrill any less. Something something power imbalances and all that nastiness.

Except there was nothing nasty about Eddie. Not at all. Bigger than life, theatrical, adorable—he was everything she wanted. And couldn’t have. Fuck.

Not for the first time, Maggie cursed this job. Sure, it paid the bills and made sure Hannibal, her ancient long-haired Persian, got fed but damn did it ruin her chances of shooting her shot with the star of her dreams, and wasn’t that a damn shame? Still, there were some merits, mainly the ease of her gig and the fact that, while she couldn’t ask him out, she could ogle a sweaty, grime-covered Eddie.

She couldn’t understand the way the Hawkins girls had turned up their prissy noses at an authentic, compassionate guy like Eddie but she supposed it was the dream of a white picket fence, bragging rights over her husband being a football player or something of the sort, and eight kids she never wanted.

If she were being honest, applying for the job had been a last-ditch effort to supplement her income when the bookstore she’d worked at went under. She’d been desperate but not desperate enough to allow some incompetent, half-brained white men to walk all over her like she was supposed to smile and be grateful that they deigned to allow her in their space. As luck had it, Munson Mechanics needed a receptionist, she needed a job, and the rest was history.

“Maggie! Maggie Mae! Light of my life, apple of my eye, goddess of dessert!”

The sound of Eddie’s voice cut through the cacophony of the mechanics working and it also made Maggie look up from her magazine. He approached with quick, buoyant steps and sprawled across the desk dramatically.

She’d have rolled her eyes if her heart wasn’t ready to pound out of her chest and if her pussy wasn’t clamping at his closeness. Somehow her lusty-filled crush had only bloomed bigger, and she could even decipher his footsteps. Like a fucking dog.

Christ.

She focused on Eddie’s theatrics. “What can I do for you, sugar?” she asked, watching as he twisted to his stomach and half-laid across the desk. So close she could smell his shampoo and feel the heat of his bare arms next to her fingers. Her stomach summersaulted.

Focus, you horny bitch. You can use your vibrator when you get home, she told her brain, even as she focused on his pretty, pink mouth and the way his nose crinkled when he scrunched it. To be truthful, she was surprised she could even form coherent when he looked at her with those big, brown eyes.

He straightened up from his reclined positioned and fixed her with an apologetic smile and fiddled with the paperweights and knick-knacks she had on the counter. It took every ounce of willpower not to drool over his nimble, dexterous fingers and even more to not beg him to put them inside of her.

“So, you know The Hideout, right?”

She nodded.

“My band—”

“Corroded Coffin.” She flashed him a smile when he faltered, looking more than a little surprised, and it made her want to suck him off. Right here. She ignored her pussy’s bitchy demands.

“I—uh, wow. You remembered.” Pink crept up his gaunt cheeks. “Anyway.” He cleared his throat. “One of the guy’s that’s there has been giving me shit, saying I couldn’t—couldn’t, uh—” He stopped and looked away, his brows furrowed over his eyes, that pretty pink flush darkening to a delicious burgundy-like color.

She wanted to kiss it and see how far down it went. “Couldn’t what, sugar?” she asked gently, and his throat bobbed as he swallowed, chewing the question. Rolling the words to explain. “Do I need to cut someone? I know southern hospitality and all that shit, but us southern gals know a thing or two about broken kneecaps.” She gave him a syrupy sweet smile.

“No, no!” He yanked at his hair before he whipped around to face her fully, his eyes wild and more than a little embarrassed, sheepish. Boyish. It was hard to remember he was still a young man and even someone as suave and debonair as him were liable to make mistakes. “I—I fucked up. I might’ve—maybe—sort of told him I have a smokin’ hot babe of a girlfriend.”

That didn’t explain why he was telling her. Don’t get her wrong, she knew she was attractive, but why would Eddie be telling her about his lie? “So you—I’m sorry, sugar, I really am, but I’m afraid I’m not following you’re line of thinking.”

“I was hoping—I was thinking that maybe, uh, you could—if you want to, I mean—” He fought to get the words out before he growled to himself and backed away for a second, scrubbing at his face.

That growl went straight to her swollen clit and right into the little folder labeled ‘Noises Eddie Makes That I’ll Masturbate To Later,’ which located next to her abundant memories of Eddie’s multitude of orgasm-causing expressions. It was largely those puppy dog eyes.

“I want you to pretend to be my girlfriend, Mags.”

Oh, that nickname melted her bones and made her heart skitter in her ribcage. And his request, earnest and a little unhinged with desperation, made her shift her hips slightly, grinding the seam of her arousal-wet panties into her clit to try to get even the smallest amount of relief. She knew as soon as she got home she was whipping out her vibrator and going to town because she knew she was going to agree.

Not because he was looking at her with those big, big brown eyes so beseechingly and wetly but because Eddie almost never asked for help. But also because she was flattered to high hell that she was the first—

“Why don’t you ask one of your little female friends? The older girls. Uh, Karen Wheeler’s girl and that Buckley girl.”

“Buckley’s…not available and neither is Nancy. Besides you’re the first person that came to mind when I think ‘smoking hot babe who’s willing to put up with me and my big mouth.’” He gave her a smile that creased his eyes and made his dimples come out, and yup, she was a sucker, a goner for this man.

She looked at him, taking in the long hands, the well-defined biceps, the lopsided smile, and gestured for him to come closer. He obeyed without hesitation, and she took his hand in one of hers, feeling the ridge of his fingers, the close-trimmed nails, the callouses from guitar playing. She wanted to put her mouth on his fingers, sucking and toying with him, but that was simply impossible.

He was asking her for a favor.

That was it.

She ran her thumb over one of his bare knuckles.

“You don’t have to, of course, if you really don’t—” He was babbling, chewing his bottom lip, anxious and sweet, and damn if she wasn’t determined to masturbate when she got home, well, now it was a given.

“I will. Don’t worry, sugar. I’ll treat you good. Pinkie promise,” she said, and because she was more than a little riled up, she licked her lips. Tasted her lip balm and saw how his eyes tracked the movement hungrily.

When he left, she almost laughed at the sight of his quick, please-don’t-notice-my-erection walk and stopped laughing immediately when she realized he’d been standing here, talking to her, with a goddamn erection.

Maybe tonight would be harder than she thought.

Maggie smoothed her sisterlocks back and examined her outfit with a critical eye, wondering if her outfit was sexy enough. A midriff-bearing halter top, low-rise leather pants that hugged her ass, and motorcycle boots. Her lipstick and nails matched—blood-red. Fuck, she felt like a vampiress, a vixen.

Frowning, she examined her breasts and readjusted her left one. While she usually avoided black, preferring lighter colors against her light-brown complexion, she looked like she belonged in the Underworld movies and damn did she look good.

It was just one night of acting, of playing Eddie’s besotted girlfriend. She could do that without ruining everything, right?

Catching sight of the time, she grabbed her car keys, turned her volume loud as fuck so she could ignore her nerves, and screamed along with the likes of Alesana, Hollywood Undead and Silverstein. Each song had her head banging—responsibly and safely of course—and slapping her steering wheel, and it wasn’t long before the turn to The Hideout came into view.

Shit was her first thought. Showtime was the second because she’d caught sight of Eddie’s familiar clunker of a van and the band members around him—Jeff, a Black boy with close-cropped hair; Gareth, a curly-haired white boy; and Sawyer, a behemoth, bearded white boy.

A chorus of greetings filled the air when she pulled into a parking spot and climbed out.

“Babe! You made it!” Eddie bounded over not unlike a Labrador and swept her into a bone-crushing hug, hands precariously close to her ass. “How’re you not cold?”

“Nerves,” she whispered low enough only he heard. When he set her back on her feet, she felt some strength leave her knees at the soft, melty look in his puppy-dog eyes. Pathetic—truly, she was pathetic with a capital P.

“I’m gonna be touching you all night,” he murmured close to her lips as his hands bracketed either side of her face, palms and fingers cold on her hot face, quiet enough that only she heard. “Is that okay? Like, hands on your ass and shit.”

“Yeah.” The idea of Eddie touching her, putting his hands all over her, shot through her like a gasoline fire, blazing and burning. Her lust-soaked brain conjured the most tantalizing images: his lips wrapped around her dark nipple, his fingers toying with her pussy, his cock inside of her and him braced above her. Shit. She needed to get a hold of herself.

He pulled back a fraction, his dark eyes serious, unsmiling, and she liked serious Eddie as much as she did dramatic Eddie. A shudder worked its way through her, all white-hot arousal. “You sure? Cause I don’t—” he started.

“Yup. One hundred percent certain.” She gave him a smile and watched as he stepped back, his familiar ever-smiling mask slipping back into place. She was still watching him when he turned to finish loading equipment into the bar, and caught sight of the low-hanging jeans, bearing too much of his boxers.

Tonight was going to be a testament to her will power when it came to Eddie. That much was a certain.

[tearueful]

I don't have access to discord to dump in the right server but I must dump my brain because I need it oUT OF MY HEAD

and anyway, it's Homelander drabble ideas because of course

-and man I want to write a Soulmate AU with Homelander because GOD DAMN THE ANGST POTENTIAL WOULD BE DELICIOUS because he's so broken and doesn't even consider himself human and if soul mates were a thing would he even think he'd have one? Because the guy keeps saying he doesn't even have a birthday or a mother so why would he have a soulmate? Bad products don't get soulmates. It hurts because he wants a human connecting so badly. He wants to be loved so badly and a soulmate would be a guarantee of that.

This idea doesn't have legs because I can't decide on HOW soulmates would work because it needs to be in a NOT OBVIOUS WHEN BY YOURSELF thing cause OBVIOULSY if it was a mark/red string then he'd KNOW and stop at NOTHING to find them. That or it's the most generic word if it's one of those AUs where you're marked by the first word you speak to one another or something...but even then I could see Homelander being THAT sort of asshole to demand Vought find his soulmate or SO FUCKING HELP HIM ASHLEY FUCKING FIND THEM.

Also, a drabble of friends gossiping somewhere in Vought tower and one is bragging that they shacked up with a D-list supe or something and the Reader says, "WELL, I'm dating Homelander!" and because Homelander is Homelander he hears this and just pops up and is like "Hi babe, what's up? Why don't you give me a kiss" because Homelander kisses are fun All smug as hell because hey, look at this idiot mud person offering themselves up as a new toy for me? Time to fuck with them. Hijinks ensue. Sexy, sexy hijinks. Will keep this in my pocket when I just NEED to write some PORN.

ALSO ALSO, because of @/arealtrashact's Homelander puppy art just- WHAT IF HE WAS THOUGH? (Look at this shit) WHAT if Homelander got cursed to be a puppy and he get's picked up by some kind soul (Someone in The Boys, a rando??) and taken care of? He HATES it because he's a DOG and no one know it's him and he's being treated like an ANIMAL and he's so full of RAGE about that but then he get's scratched behind the ears and that feels fantastic. He just melts because that man is TOUCH STARVED and now he can get casual intimacy with no fear of it being a tool to control him. No, he's just being petted because he's such a pretty boy. Dude would be WEAK and maybe being a dog isn't so bad? Fucker would learn some fucking humility for certain and a lot more humanity. Princess and the frog that shit to change him back in the most hilarious way possible, too. Fluff, fluff, fluff. He'd be a velcro dog 300%.

Also someone in the discord mentioned an established relationship drabble idea where Homelander is all huffy because he's being ignored for video games and I just- adgikagdjascvhJHGVFHGAc WANT TO WRITE THAT TOO because no one can convince me that Homelander doesn't eat pussy like a PRO. That man goes down like he's STARVING, fucking drinks up his partner like a fresh glass of milk. Good luck ever getting him off of you. He's so broken that sex is the only way he knows to show his love with a romantic partner, so he PUTS HIS WHOLE SOUL INTO DRAINING YOURS. He'd be such a little annoying shit, "Oh no, Sweetheart. Keep playing your little game. Don't mind me. Oh, did you just die? What a shame." Maybe fucking flashing the heat vision in a blatant warning, "Keep playing." Since you know, you dared to ignore him and now you're going to suffer for it in the best worst way possible.

[anon-apple]

Hot Soup and Soft Bread 27 (END)

ToC and Synopsis <- Chapter 26 Read on WordPress

Chapter 27: Shiitake Mushroom Rice IV

t/n: This is the last chapter of the main story!

When Zhong Qiuyan drove by the location of the former stirfry shop, he parked by the roadside and stared for a long time. The inside has already been cleared out, and the old signboard drooped down from above the doorframe. This will be his restaurant in the future; he couldn’t quite believe it just yet. 

In the past few days, he cooked a few of what he intended to sell as his restaurant's signature dishes for Zhou Cunqu. Dishes like wild shiitake mushroom rice, chestnut pumpkin steamed rice, Pad Thai, et cetera. Cunqu particularly liked the Pad Thai. Zhong Qiuyan had pulled out a bottle of fish sauce from who knows where, and the rice noodles' flavor was particularly delicious. One day, Cunqu requested Qiuyan to cook it again, and he packed a serving inside the little pink pig bento box for Shi Shuyuan to taste. She smiled and said, “Your little pink pig’s cooking skills aren’t bad.”

Zhou Cunqu reiterated: “Don’t call him little pink pig.”

At the same time, the little pink pig Zhong Qiuyan was pulling A’Shan and Da Yu to the side of the storefront. He pointed at it and bragged: “Ge picked this store for me to open a restaurant with. He even did the design of the shopfront for me.” 

Da Yu let out a “Woah” and followed with, “It’s reminiscent of those financial-backer literature.”[1]

Qiuyan rebuked, “This is love with square feet as the unit of measurement, alright?”

Da Yu said to A’Shan: “Look, I’ve said it before. This guy is a prime example of fortune favoring fools.”

Qiuyan scolded, “How am I dumb??”

While the shop was undergoing renovations, Zhong Qiuyan was still busy every day as a bus driver. Instead, he let the unemployed Da Yu help oversee the work. At the same time, the South City Experimental Elementary School also started to renovate after its 35th founding anniversary celebrations. In a year, it would switch locations with the City First High School. This was because a fortune teller foretold that the feng shui (t/n: Chinese geomancy) on October Road was better and moving locations would be beneficial for raising the graduation rate. Anyway, the City First High students started attending school at the October Road location that year. The school uniform for the autumn months included a navy-colored windbreaker made of a material that rustled noisily with movement. They would stream out of the school gates like the dim light rays of the late dusk hours, flow across the street to the pretty little restaurant on the opposite side, and sit down for a meal. Even in the heat of summer vacation, they would meet up at the restaurant to do their summer homework over an order of watermelon shaved ice. In this muddle-headed high school era, they come here to secretly go on dates and come here to be heartbroken. 

Many students from City First High would remember this restaurant. This restaurant named “Hot Soup and Soft Bread”, despite not selling either hot soup or soft bread. Every day, there was a special menu. The seasonal wild shiitake mushroom rice and the signature Pad Thai were both delicious. The boss would stand behind the cooking station and scoop out rice from a giant brown earthen pot, and the aroma of wild shiitake being cooked would disperse and linger around every corner of the small seating area. Many years later, the students of City First High would join the fatigued adults of modern society, working hard to make a living. And in certain sluggish twilight moments, as they drag their weary bodies from their workplace, they would suddenly recall those high school days. Along with it, there is the fragrance of that shiitake mushroom rice. 

When “Hot Soup and Soft Bread” first opened, Da Yu helped out at the restaurant for a while. Zhou Cunqu had designed the little porch[2] outside the storefront so waiting customers or passersby could rest for a short while. However, after the “Double Yolk Egg” Grandpas discovered this location, they would show up early every day with a Go board. Zhong Qiuyan would give them each a cup of barley tea, and they would sit there and play Go until noon.

After getting off work, Cunqu pushed open the restaurant door and sat atop the bar stools next to a whole row of high schoolers. Qiuyan passed him a glass of water and asked, “This customer, what would you like to eat?”

Cunqu was about to reply, but he was interrupted by the excited yelps of the two high school girls next to him who were staring at their phone screens. They screeched, “He’s so handsome so handsome so handsome!!!” Qiuyan leaned over toward Cunqu and asked, “How about the secret menu?” Cunqu nodded.

After a bit, Qiuyan placed a bowl of fried rice before Cunqu. The fried rice contained chopped bamboo shoots, which were in season, as well as marinated meat, white beech mushrooms, and some other seasonal vegetables. Because that bowl of fried rice smelled way too good, the few students sitting beside Cunqu turned over to take a look. Qiuyan knocked on the table and said, “The school day ended, but you guys aren’t rushing home to do homework. How come you all are so free?”

The students’ mouths twitched, and they turned back to stare at their phone screens. They finished their meal, sat around for a bit more, and then, like chirping birds, left the shop amidst chatter to fly off to a nearby cram school. Sometimes, after closing shop around 8 pm, Qiuyan would sit beside the goldfish tank on the second floor and look down from the window. He’d recognize the faces of the backpack-wearing students, holding their trinkets-adorned phones, chatting while rushing to take the subway home. And the next day, at 6 am, those same students will emerge drowsily from various corners of the city and rush back to school.

Zhong Qiuyan and the newly hired waiter finished cleaning up the store. He closed up shop and walked back to Qin Qin Homeland. Zhou Cunqu recently started exercising and had just returned home from a half-hour run. After showering, he sat cross-legged on the sofa looking at his laptop. A few months ago, Shi Shuyan officially invited him to sign on. He leaned against the pedestrian bridge's railing and joked, “Boss, if work gets too demanding, I might leave anytime. You know me. Someone is willing to raise me now.” 

Shiyuan laughed as she cursed, “Gross.”

The one raising Cunqun finally arrived home. After kicking off his shoes, Qiuyan slid onto the sofa and hugged Cunqu’s waist, rubbing his face against his while complaining, “You haven’t taken a single look at me since I got home. You’re just looking at your laptop. I’m angry angry.”[3]  

Cunqu said exasperatedly, “Let me finish up with this email.”

Qiuyan was still repeating: “Angry, angry, angry…”

Cunqu lightly tapped his forehead and said: “Power off. Stop being annoying.”

Qiuyan aggrievedly shut his mouth, stood up, and ran off to the balcony. After Cunqu finally finished up with his work, he closed his laptop and walked to the balcony. He pinched Cunqu’s cheek and said, “Power on.”  

Qiuyan lightly said, “Angry.”

They leaned against the balcony’s railing and looked toward the housing community under construction across the street. The framework of the new buildings was almost complete; time always marched forward. Cunqu lifted his head, took a deep breath, and commented that the air carried the scent of grape juice. Qiuyan replied that give it a month, and Qiu Xuemei would be coming here to gift them two whole crates of homegrown grapes. 

In the sunset hours, when the streets are crawling with people, she will climb down from her cargo truck and push open Zhong Qiuyan’s restaurant’s door while holding two crates of grapes. She will sit down and take a break by the same window where she and Liu Xiaoying once sat. Turning her head, she will see the City First High’s students crowding by the bar counter, tilting up their faces, lit up by two cloud-shaped hanging ceiling lamps, chattering with Qiuyan, excitedly inquiring about his relationship history with sparkles in their eyes. And just like that, the love story of the boss of “Hot Soup and Soft Bread” will spread from one grade to another, from one year to the next. But many of the finer details and many of the deeper causes and effects are only known between me and you. Don’t go around telling that group of gossipy high schoolers. 

And now, I will tell you one last thing. In this universe, atop some planet, within a neighborhood in some city of a country, behind the window of the fifth floor of a building, a wonderful love has settled down.[4]

---- Author's Note: This is a rather unpolished sweet little bedtime story. After finishing the story, I recommend listening to 天台晚餐 (Rooftop dinner) by 麥浚龍 (Juno mak) (t/n: youtube, lyrics). Please refrain from commenting about this story under the song, anything you want to see please say it here[5]. I’ll also be uploading two short epilogues for Madam Qiu Xuemei and Madam Liu Xiaoying. Later I’ll write a bit of Zhou ge and Little Zhong’s if-storyline[6]

Footnotes

[1] I translated this ltierally. Da Yu is referring to all the novels of the “rich ceo falls in love with me” genre; basically he’s suggesting that Zhou Cunqu is giving Sugar Daddy energy lol.  [2] The original term was 缘廊, which I believe refers to an engawa: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Engawa [3]  Zhong Qiuyan literally repeats “Angry” twice here. Just to clarify, he’s saying this not too seriously, in like a childish, spoiled manner. He’s 撒娇（Sājiāo)-ing for anyone familiar with the term.  [4]  A call back to the storybook Zhou Cunqu read on the rooftop to the little kid in Chapter 15 [5] “Here” is the comment section of the raws, which I’ll link again here: https://www.gongzicp.com/novel-1597036.html [6]  Basically like an AU (alternate universe), she doesnt’ specify what kind. I’ll try to translate these eventually too.

t/n: And we're at an end! The reason why I picked this up (aside from the manageable length lol) is that the chapters often leave me with a warm fuzzy feeling (except for the angsty ones lol) I love how this story never forgets any of the side characters. The double-yolk egg grandpas, despite not being crucial to the main plotline of the story, consistently appeared throughout. And we even get some depth into Qiuyan's friends, especially A'Shan, despite how short this story was. I also adore how it describes just ordinary, daily lives. Like that bit about the high school students at the restaurant was so charming and nostalgic. Also! The fact that the shop Cunqu picked out for Qiuyan was the same store where Liu Xiaoying and Qiu Xuemei had their encounter (ch 23)! The world is so big; the world is so small. May Zhou Cunqu and Zhong Qiuyan be happy forever~ If you guys liked this story, please leave it a rating & review on https://www.novelupdates.com/series/hot-soup-and-soft-bread/ so more people can read it~

[lizzie-c-bryant]

Writer's Prompt Friday ✏️

🍰🎂🧁 Who knew a bakery could be so full of drama? 🕵️‍♀️ Join me in unraveling the mystery of the missing buttercream in my latest short story, "The great baking heist"

The soft morning light filtered through the bakery windows, highlighting the shelves soon to be filled with delicious pastries. Oliver Baker, a kind-hearted man in his late thirties, unlocked the front door to his bakery, his assistant Milo coming in behind him.

"Morning, Ethan," Oliver greeted, his voice slightly sleepy. "We have the Petersons wedding cake to finish today.” He said. “Can you do the morning rush bakes? And I'll get cracking on that?”

Milo grinned and nodded. “You got it Boss.” The morning rush bakes consisted of fresh pastries, and we're very popular among The many offices that were 4 streets away. Most were prepped the night before, ready to be baked when they arrived at 5.30 in the morning.

Oliver entered the kitchen, heading over to the sink to begin his usual routine when he noticed something very unusual.

“Uh…. Mate? did you leave the fridge open when you locked up last night?” Oliver asked as he spotted the door wide open, the light not even on after the continuous door being open.

“No, I closed it. I triple check after I left it open my first shift and the custard went weird.” Milo said, heading over. He scanned the shelves. “Might need to throw some of this away. It feels a little warm.” He said checking the temperature.

“See if we can salvage the buttercream for the wedding cake at least we’re already behind…..” his eyes widened.

“Where's the buttercream?”

“I don't…. I saw it right here last night. I saw you put it in there.” Milo shook his head.

“I'll look for it, you focus on the pastries, we open in an hour.” Oliver instructed. It was hopeless anyway, if the buttercream had not been in the fridge, no way would it be ready for a cake today. It would be way to runny. It was more annoyance than anything. Where had it gone?

30 minutes later, he had turned the entire kitchen upside down, and had yet to find the bowl of buttercream, he had checked the cupboards, the mixer…everywhere.

“Boss, I know it's annoying, but you're going to have to cut your losses, we're opening soon, and you know how mad the morning rush is….”

“I found it! Well…. The bowl.” Oliver exclaimed from behind the bin, lifting up the bowl now empty of buttercream. “Why is it all the way back here? and where is it?” He asked, glancing at the back door beside the bin. “You don't think anyone could have gotten in last night?”

“And take buttercream?” Milo sounded sceptical. “Why would they do that?”

“I don't…. Wait, this is labeled the peterson wedding.” He said, pointing to the label. “Oh that…. That bitch!” He headed out to the front of the bakery, looking through the window at the shiny new la patisserie that had opened 6 months ago. “Miss Landley said that she had gone there first for a cake tasting, and she picked us. She must be annoyed about us getting a high end client.” The Petersons were very wealthy, and the wedding had over a 400 guests. Oliver had cried when his bakery was chosen, and had not so subtly bragged about it when he had seen the woman who owned la patisserie.

“Are you serious? You think Madame Dubois snuck into the bakery in the middle of the night? And stole your buttercream and left the bowl behind the bins?”

“Why not? She's evil. Plus, the word Sabotage is French.” Oliver muttered, glaring at the offending bakery.

“And I'm pretty sure she's from Birmingham mate. She slips up with the accent sometimes.” Milo pointed out. Oliver paid him no mind, glowering with his arms crossed.

“I know she did it. I know it.” He muttered. “I will prove it.”

“Look, if it was her…”

“Oh it was.” Oliver interjected.

“Fine. Then her plan has worked, you are distracted, and now even further behind because you've just spent the first 45 minutes of the day preoccupied instead of doing what you need to do. So put the sign over, get in the kitchen and make some more.” Milo encouraged. Oliver sighed.

“I guess you're right, a bigger payback would be to smash this cake out of the park. That will show her.” He agreed, turning the closed sign to open, and rushing back to the kitchen. The wedding cake was no where near finished, and the date off collection was looming.

“Oh that looks good.” Milo noted 6 hours later. Oliver had to take a couple of shortcuts to make up time, however the cake was almost complete, there was a few more sugar flowers and decorations to adorn the cake, but it was frosted and ready to go.

“It does. I can't wait to shove this right in Madam Dubios face.” Oliver smirked. “Oh, and the bride. She's going to love it.” He added.

“You know how much she loves instagram too, you are going to be famous.” Milo grinned. “I think this deserves a celebration. Pub?”

“Oh. No.” Oliver shook his head. “I'm staying right here. I'm not giving madam Dubois another chance of subterfuge. I'm sitting right here and not moving until this cake is safely out of this bakery.

Milo looked at him sceptically. “Uh…. Sure. If you say so.” He said. “If you need anything just give me a call.”

Oliver nodded, not taking his eyes off the cake. The sun soon set, leaving him in the darkness, his eyes began to droop….

Before he jolted awake. He wondered what had awoken him, a loud clatter coming from the cake. He rushed forward, a rolling pin in hand to apprehend The culprit.

Oh.

It wasn't madam dubois at all.

There, happily eating the sugar flowers, was a large, ginger cat. Oliver blinked, eyes darting to the window propped open behind the sink.

He coughed loudly to startle the creature. The cat looked up, seeing the man.

Then continued to eat.

[amalgamgooze]

amalgam stew ii

“When I woke up this morning, I saw the whole world staring back at me. Bored, I went back to sleep.”

=====================

It’s that time again where I feel so much all at once that it becomes a delicious thought soup. I’ve found writing helps with it.

My classmates really like my writing so far, at least in the excerpts from the story I’m sharing with the class. They claim it makes them think, and that it’s so outrageously unique that it’s hard to believe I wasn’t on drugs when I wrote it.

Hah. I wish I was.

Pretty much everyone around me has told me that if they didn’t know me better, they’d assume I was on drugs. I’m not sure how to feel about that. I’m also not sure how to respond when it’s a teacher telling me that. The drug changes every time too—this time it was psychedelics. Welp. It’ll be interesting to see what happens when I finally do end up drinking and all that fun stuff.

But not yet. I still have a reputation to uphold. I think many people around me really like me for some reason, though I can’t say what I’ve done specifically to earn this respect.

Tomorrow I read my commencement speech in front of the Panel of Judgement, something my parents have already familiarized me with extensively. That is, my parents are very judgmental. Now look at me. I’ve assumed my reader is a moron. I’m sorry, reader.

Back to the speech. I’ve practiced it a bit, but not in front of anyone yet. That’s less-than-ideal. Oh well. I’ve seen one of the other kids practicing it obsessively. I wonder how they’ll feel when I beat them anyway.

Hah. Like I’ll win anyway. It’s hard to be confident in your own speech when you’ve gone through ten-ish years of speech therapy and still never officially “graduated” from it.

…

Then again, I did ace all of my Environmental Geoscience presentations last year, as well as doing lots of public speaking in front of important people with lots of money convincing them to donate to hospitals and schools.

But I’ve started bragging again. Look at me again. I’ve never done Model UN or Mock Trial, which many of these other candidates have done. All I do is sit on my ‘puter and do some science. And volleyball.

I embarrassed the opposing team at practice today with a series of incredible blocks and plays. It was honestly a great feeling. I feel a sadistic nature growing in me—I took pleasure in watching that team endure their punishment for sucking so bad against me. This isn’t the me I’m used to, but maybe it’s something that needs to be explored more.

Why am I publicizing this? Why am I willingly publishing the fact that I’m evil sometimes? Here’s a good answer—nobody I know will likely ever read this, or care enough to act on it. And anyway, it’s a prankster sort of sadistic as opposed to a psychopath sort of sadistic. Not that I’d ever intentionally plan to make anyone suffer—it’s just that my actions, which were applauded, also directly led to the compounded punishment of my victims, which also gave me guilty pleasure.

Whatever. I didn’t really have that much power in that situation. “My” “victims” are literally just players on my volleyball team that had to run sprints because I blocked them a million times. I’m no evil mastermind or “king of the shadows” or anything edgy like that.

…

It’s weird actually caring about winning this commencement speech contest and being stressed about speaking. Every other speech I’d ever done had seemed so low-stakes—why’s this one bothering me so much? I suppose I just have to like, embody clarity or something like that.

…

Again, I’ve got a funny feeling that my speech is probably gonna win, but still… it’s just this sort of like, 70% chance of success (in actuality, if they pick at random, it’s a 20% chance, but I’m feeling confident right now) where I can’t really say “ah, well I’m probably not gonna win anyway” or “I’m definitely going to win!”.

…

This speech is driving me peanut-butter-jelly-sandwich insane.

[envysparkler]

I'm curious about this Uno reverse batfamily adoption fic idea. What is it going to be about? All the batkids parents are alive and try to coparents Bruce and the robins?

The story starts when a newly minted Batman goes to a circus. He runs into a panicking baby Dick before the show starts, who claims that there's a bad man doing something to the ropes. Bruce rushes off to stop him, gets lightly stabbed, and decides to buy Haly's Circus so this kind of thing doesn't happen again.

The Grayson family happily adopt him. No amount of persuading will convince Dick Grayson that Bruce is not his new older brother. Alfred is happy to have more people looking out for Bruce. Bruce is defeated and resignedly accepts his new parental figures, since it appears that Haly's Circus is going to stay in Gotham.

[you can insert subplot about court of owls here or not.]

Bruce Wayne is in Crime Alley on the anniversary of his parents' death. He gets mugged, which causes a flashback and a panic attack, and a kind passerby coaches him through it while her son scowls at him the whole time. Catherine Todd invites him up for a cup of tea and Bruce meets her husband. He can see where Jason gets the scowl from. Willis gives back Bruce's wallet and keys without saying where he got them from. The car's tires, however, are a lost cause.

[honestly the dramatic tension here from Batman running into Willis as one of Two-Face's lackeys would be delicious. also feat Willis finally revealing Catherine's medical issues which of course leads to Bruce paying for treatment and Jason starting to trust him.]

This Batman has no Robin. This does not stop little Timmy's fascination with nighttime photography, which Janet encourages. Children need to spend time outside, she can brag about her baby's talent, and honestly all the traveling means she's up at odd hours when she's in Gotham anyway. But all that Bat-watching gets Janet thinking and she figures out that Bruce is Batman in a couple of months. Tim is his mother's son, after all. Janet, previously very annoyed with Brucie Wayne, now realizes the whole thing is an act, and is very amused. She can use this to troll Gotham's snooty high society and get a good laugh out of those stuffy galas. Jack is always game to go along with a good joke.

[The Drakes, frequent visitors to the circus ever since little Dick Grayson picked up baby Timmy and proclaimed that he'd do a special flip just for him, find out that the Graysons also know Bruce. They meet the Todds on another trip. If Bruce knew that there were three different sets of Gotham parents conspiring about him, he'd probably flee permanently to the Watchtower.]

Talia...well, it would be a bit awkward for Talia to adopt Bruce. But you don't have to change much to have Ra's be the kind of father that's obsessed with that One Boyfriend you brought for dinner five years ago and won't stop asking when he's coming back.

[Why, yes, Ra's does join the monthly meetings of the Bruce Wayne Protection Squad. If only to weigh in on the "who should Bruce date" debate. They're going to be his future in-law after all.]

Batman runs into David Cain and Lady Shiva on two separate missions, both of which end in injuries for Bruce, but a little girl sticks bandaids with colorful print on him so he guesses it's okay. Her parents have split custody of Cass and now apparently Bruce too, if the way they grouse at him about the proper way to take on assassins is any indication.

Batman ends up in the hospital and Crystal Brown is the nurse that's assigned to his care. The only thing that stops a delirious Batman from trying to get out of bed is Stephanie Brown's detailed stories. Some time later, Cluemaster kidnaps Batman--not to unmask his identity, but to interrogate him on his postoperative care because his wife and daughter were worrying.

Gordon's already pretty much adopted him, so nothing has to change there.

Bonus: Bruce is a fantastic babysitter. He's attentive and careful. Also, all the kids think he's super cool because he's Batman, which is very flattering. And whenever one of them starts making noises about joining him in fighting crime, he can drop them back off at their parents.