#or rather i inherited her love of those things

[muffinsin]

Hi, hello muffin! So I was reading your long lost daughter hc’s for Cassandra (love them🙏). Since little child reader is like half human, half infected, do you think they would show more of Cassandra’s inhuman abilities as they grow older/ and or inherit Cassandra’s height?

Also Cassandra is def like one of those super over protective moms, like in the blink of an eye(for her), her little baby was not even a quarter of her height! And now they have the nerve to be nearly as tall, if not taller than her! It makes her a little bit miffled and upset, you were supposed to stay tiny forever! It’s just not fair in her opinion. And she absolutely does not want her baby dating! Doesn’t matter if they’re from the village or an outsider, she just doesn’t want you dating.

I have also come to the conclusion that cassandra is like those dads who say they don’t want a pet but ends up loving the pet. That bunny is probably spoilt rotten.

(Also can I be 🧸 anon if it’s not taken?)

🧸 anon is all yours, hon! :)

OG Post can be found here: https://www.tumblr.com/muffinsin/757434230111354880/ooh-muffin-muffin-i-just-got-this-idea-from

Let’s get into it! Sum thoughts below :)

I think they’d for sure grow to inherit some of Cassandra’s traits and abilities, which would really only be sharpened by their mama and aunts. I see especially Daniela playfully teaching them a lot of things and even helping them become faster in time, while Cassandra is sure to train her little one (all in due time, of course) to become a strong and cunning warrior, if only to rest easy knowing her child can protect itself.

Biologically speaking, I absolutely see them inheriting her strenght very early on and eagerly showing it off at every opportunity.

Oh, absolutely, hon! Cassandra is incredibly possessive of her little one (even when said little one is not so little anymore) and will not let anybody but her family come near, and perhaps a few friends after Bela spent hours rambling to her how important it is for one’s mental health to have friends. (Though she does not understand why the corpses in the cellar or animals don’t make for good friends..!)

Any lover is a complete no-go for her, really. She’ll scare all potential suitors off, insisting you will always be her little one and no one could possibly be worthy of you.

100%! For every annoyed growl she lets out when yet another pet is brought home, she forces a maid to make a little bed for it. She has to admit, they’re pretty cute, when she takes the time to get to play with the animal, rather than eat it.

[mightnotfeelrealbutitsok]

I want to hang out with my mum.

[somnoir]

Little star's favorite

It all started when Talia came to Gotham with a gift.

The gift in question was a twelve year old boy.

Bruce stared at the boy who was almost the exact replica of Damian if not for the blue eyes and longer hair. He looked utterly perplexed at the sight of Bruce, tilting his head before frowning at his mother with a visibly displeased look.

"Beloved, may I introduce you to Danyal, our Damian's twin brother. He was... Away... On a mission until recently." Talia hummed, a hand on Danyal's back.

"You... You didn't think to tell me about him when you told me about Damian?" Shutting his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. He looked down at the boy who looked a little more like him than Talia and felt himself softening. "Hello Danyal."

"Hello."

Talia smiled, before her expression fell. "A little warning, beloved. The twins do not get along. Damian is quite the competitive child and Danyal... Well, he's the nicer one if I must say." She shrugged, running her fingers through her son's hair before pressing a kiss to his forehead. "Go on now, Najmi As-Sagheer (my little star)."

"Ummi... Must I join them? I am perfectly fine with remaining in the league." Danyal muttered, eye twitching but his expression was quickly schooled into neutrality.

"Yes, Danyal." She sighed, "I have no intention of letting father keep you."

Bruce raised a brow at her words.

"That is a conversation for another time, habibi." Talia lazily insisted, gently pushing Danyal towards Bruce.

Bruce, for all he's lived, immediately recognized a feral cat in the form a child. Yep. Another Damian. That was seemingly the nicer one.

But he was scruffy little thing who was being called little star by his mother. Bruce blinked, offering his hand to Danyal (like how a person would do by letting a cat sniff his hand to see if they were safe).

Danyal, more twitchy and annoyed than his brother, looked at the hand like it had personally offended him.

And that is how Batman brought home another child while holding him by the scruff.

(Danny hated everyone except for Alfred—both cat and butler)

Danyal was a much quieter person compared to Damian. Unlike his brother who had practically came into their lives guns blazing and declaring that he was the rightful heir to the bat, Danyal mainly ignored them. He would glare, snarl, and scowl, but not in the way Damian did. The kid was obviously threatened by them, but more for his own safety rather than inheritance.

He avoided them like the plague, only welcoming the company of Alfred and occasionally Cass.

He didn't join in on the vigilante business, opting to stay back with Oracle and just quietly direct them on their missions. It was strange in all honesty.

They didn't know much about Danyal, aside from the fact that his mother called him little star for his natural love of space. That he liked to tinker with gadgets and make his own weapons. That he really liked fudge.

Aside from that, the kid was quiet and was usually hiding out in his room.

Tim wasn't particularly thrilled to have another demon brat in the family. He avoided Danyal as much as possible expecting for the boy to be just like his brother and attack him.

But apparently not.

It's one of those unfortunate times that Tim's sleep deprivation and overload on energy drinks gets him benched by Alfred and not Bruce. No one particularly wanted to argue with their beloved butler/grandpa so Tim was stuck in place. It was a much quieter night than usual, almost peaceful (as much as Gotham can get).

Babs was relieved of her duties to have a night off, rest and relax and such, while Tim manned the bat computer in Oracle's place. He almost didn't notice the mop of black hair that suddenly appeared beside him.

Tim didn't want to admit it, but he flinched at Danyal's presence and how he was quietly standing there with a tray of coffee and cookies. Blue eyes blinked at him, silently pushing the tray forward to offer Tim the lone cup (most likely for him) and the plate of cookies.

Suspicious, Tim narrowed his eyes. "Alfred wouldn't make me coffee after benching me for this kind of thing."

Danyal shrugged, "Made it myself. Thought you'd need it since the others will be gone for a while."

"That's poisoned."

"It's not." Danyal frowned, immediately taking the cup and taking a couple sips himself before once again offering it to Tim.

Now, Tim wasn't stupid enough to ignore the possibility of Danyal having some tolerance to poison. But Tim was also tolerant to a lot of poisons so might as well.

When taking one sip, he was already feeling weird. One, there was no poison. Two, it was actually pretty good.

Danyal just sat there and stared at the screen, munching on cookies and pointing at the screen whenever Robin started to stray from the patrol route. Tim had a lot of fun reportingtattling to Bruce about it.

Eventually, it became a routine.

Danyal always sat beside Tim. Quiet and just offering random stuff, either food, some little gadget he made, or just the most bizarre stuff he found while at school.

Tim learned many things about his weird little brother. How cameras go crazy around him. How he had his reasons for not being touched. How Danyal was more silent than Cass. How Danyal vanished and reappeared at times.

(The glowing green eyes were the most concerning.)

He never really took notice of how Danyal started to gravitate to him. Always with him, barely without.

(Tim refused to admit that he was just the same.)

"Can I go on patrol with you?" Danyal asked, tugging at his Red Robin suit with a curious look. "I wanna meet Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn."

And Tim didn't really see much of a problem with that. Danyal was a highly trained assassin that Ra's apparently trusted to go on a solo mission while Damian had to be whisked away from the league. It wasn't too absurd for Tim to just shrug and let his kid brother tag along.

He was also very sure that his baby brother was an eldritch being with how the shadows seemed to rise around him. Yeah, the baby was a cryptid amongst a family of supposed cryptids. Very fitting.

It's a nice night. With Danny running amok with Tim, clearly having fun. But that one looks of sadness didn't escape Tim when Danny paused and looked to the sky with longing.

Tim remembers how Danny rambled about the stars in their shared moments, where it's just them.

Tim remembers how Danny would describe the sky in Nanda Parbar and how he often snuck out just to see it.

Tim remembers how much his little brother likes space and turns to the cloudy sky of Gotham that hides the stars.

Tim remembers how he was often depraved of the brotherly love he wanted. How he didn't get the full experience of having an older brother.

"You okay, little star?"

Danyal snapped his head towards Tim, eyes blown wide and flashing green (he knows that wasn't normal but he ignores that in favor to the way Danyal visibly softens at the nickname).

"'m okay, akhi." Danyal muttered, following after Tim after adjusting his own hood.

And it's like his heart stops.

Yep.

Tim has had Danyal for barely a year and he was willing to throw hands with Ra's, Talia, and Bruce for him.

"C'mon, qalbi(my heart). Batburger's still open."

He barely noticed the shift after that. But others think it's a glaring change that often made them stop and stare.

Danyal went to Tim whenever he needed anything.

If Danyal wasn't in bed, you'd find him snuggled up to Tim.

Danyal hated it when people touched him... Except for Tim.

Danyal liked Tim the most.

The day Dick thought it was a good idea to call Danyal 'Danny' (a nickname that was only used by Tim and Alfred), he almost got stabbed. Well, that's where all the stabbiness went to.

Safe to say, Tim was Danny's favorite.

And Danny was Tim's.

"Drake! What have you done to my brother?!" Damian pointed a katana at Tim, who lazily glanced his way before turning back to Danny who was comfortably snuggled up to him and watching Blue while Tim scrolled on Tiktok.

"I haven't done anything to Danny, demon brat. Now shoo!" Tim's irritation could be heard from a mile away, shamelessly shooing Damian away with a flick of his wrist. Then the next second, he was combing his fingers through Danny's hair and listening to his younger brother make a purring noise.

(Another point of investigation because that is not fucking normal, Tim. Cute though!)

"I refuse to believe that Danyal would prefer you over me!"

"You're just salty that he stabs you like you stab me." Tim waved him off again, watching as Danny yawned and continued to ignore everyone else.

The click of a camera immediately alerts him and he's tugging Danny down before the much younger boy lunges at Dick.

"Woah! What's up with him?" Dick nervously asked, instinctively raising his phone above his head.

"Delete that!" Tim snarled, pulling Danny closer and guiding his brothers face to his shoulder. "You know he hates it when people take pictures without consent!"

(Tim doesn't tell them that something goes every wrong with the footage if Danny was ever in the picture.)

"Dick." Tim warned, effortlessly picking up Danny, because yes, his seemingly cryptid baby brother could become weightless, and snatched Dick's phone. Yep. Instead of Danny, there was a very strange figure, a glitching silhouette of black and green. He deletes it immediately.

Dick was pouring, "I don't have any pics of Danny—"

"Don't call me that, Richard." Danny scowled, clinging to Tim like a koala. He was strangely more child-like than Damian, muttering about annoying people who interrupted bonding time. (Dick was just forced to pout.)

"Danyal." Damian crossed his arms, scowling at Danny who was still comfortably cuddled up to Tim. "It is not appropriate to cling to Drake in such a way! You will embarrass our mother and father if you are seen acting like a petulant child!"

Tim wanted to argue that no, he wouldn't embarrass Talia and Bruce by being a kid, but Danny just grabbed a cookie from nowhere (note to self, add possible teleportation powers to cryptid baby) and shoved it into his mouth.

Danny just yawned, fixing Damian with a lazy glare.

"Tuhali, can you shut up?"

Damian stood stock still, while Jason and Bruce choked on their own spit. Jason slapping a hand over his mouth and Bruce just staring at his twins like the apocalypse was about to return.

"What did you just call me?"

Danny yawne again, "My spleen."

Tim knew what Tuhali meant. Of course he fucking knew Arabic! But to think that his cryptid baby brother was straight up calling Damian his spleen?

The spleen that Tim doesn't have.

The spleen that's important to the immune system but you can survive without it?

Tim grinned, grabbing his cryptid baby and made a run for it.

Yep.

Danny was definitely his favorite.

Credits to: @strangergraphics for the dividers used.

[kamiraaah]

TWST PARENTS! Howl, Zigvolt and Viper!!

⚠️⚠️First of all, I must warn you that these designs may change in the future, either because the game presented us with the official designs, or just because I really wanted to change... Or I could reuse these designs for these characters!⚠️⚠️ Given that warning...

Guys, gals, and non-binary pals. I present to you, the Howl, Zigvolt, and Viper families!

The Howl family, a close-knit and unique family in a way. Whether it's because of their personalities that always seem to clash but at the same time get along so easily.... Or because the children always seem to get into some adventure that may or may not be dangerous. Even Jack has a history of always getting into trouble as a child, something that he tries to prevent from happening to his younger siblings (and ends up failing a few times). Jack's family is extremely welcoming to travelers who visit Shaftland!... Or rather, Jack's mother is the most welcoming and charismatic of the small family nucleus, always appearing to be in a good mood, and is a peacemaker whenever things start to get out of hand. Jack's father is extremely suspicious of anyone outside the family, a typical lone wolf personality (something that Jack ended up inheriting), but he also ends up being the one who spoils his children the most... Okay, so Jack is no longer a little kid, but that won't stop him! He is also the one who ends up dealing most easily with his children's crises, especially Jack's younger brother, who now seems to be in a rebellious phase, and his younger sister who wants to be closer to her siblings... Sometimes it is complicated, but it is good that he has a loving wife who is by his side to help him.

Ah yes, the Zigvolt family… Now that's a family that always seems to be involved in something unbelievable. We don't even need to comment on the scandal that occurred when Sebek's mother decided to marry a human, nothing that would really change the young Zigvolt's mind, or even the shock when Baul's wife was the first to bless the couple's union! No one expected a fae like her to be the first to defend the couple, but those close to her already suspected that she had an affection for humans. After all, she also demanded that Lilia share the stories of his travels, whether in person or by letter (how she found out where he was is a mystery to this day)… Also, she was the one who helped Baul be less… extreme, against them, in a way. The wedding was a big event that caught the attention of many people in the kingdom, much to Baul's dismay, who wanted it to be something more private, just between family and a few close friends… But he couldn't hold back the tears when he saw his daughter's happiness. Sebek and his siblings ended up spending a lot of time with their grandparents, and with that, the olderbrother and sister ended up inheriting a bit of their grandmother's playful and bold personality. And whenever they can, they end up teasing the youngest in different ways, saying that he is too serious for his age, or that he has to quickly get out of this rebellious phase against his own father (nothing extremely serious, they just do this so that their brother can enjoy this new phase of his life).

The Vipers have a complicated history... Mrs. Viper was born and raised within the walls of the Asim mansion, so a lot of the things she was taught ended up, in one way or another, affecting her relationship with her children. She loves them more than anything in the world but... Some teachings are too hard to forget. Mr. Viper has worked at the Asim mansion since childhood, and ended up getting close to and falling in love with the young Viper and, despite all her warnings, he decided to get married and carry the burden of the Viper name alongside his beloved. Promising himself that he would do everything to bring some happiness to his children and his wife. The dance was something that Mrs. Viper insisted on becoming a family tradition, whether on special occasions like birthdays or as a way to help everyone understand and express themselves. Mr. Viper created a small tradition of doing everyone's hair almost every day, were to teach his children how to do more elaborate hairstyles,to talk about everything or nothing to relax or whether to comfort them after a hard day… Even in difficult times, the Viper family is very loyal to themselves, always looking out for each other's safety even if it costs them their own, whether in a direct or indirect way.

AND MORE FAMILIES DONE!! And I'm still going to draw pictures of other members of the TWST families, so please bear with me a little… I'm going as fast as I can! 🙃

I took a long time with the designs again and I got carried away with the drawings…😅 And... Can you tell I'm not good at creating clothes? Anyway! I hope you enjoy them, and feel free to share your headcanons! <3

[voxslays]

Lucifer’s Daughter Headcannons

Lucifer x Reader: If Lucifer and Reader had a daughter, here’s what I think she would be like. or an excuse for me to talk about apple white…

Personality

First of all, personality. Your daughter would be raised by Lucifer, therefore picking up some of his both positive and negative traits, but let’s start positively.

Your daughter would be very creative. Her father was a dreamer; having beautiful (rejected) ideas and dreams for humanity. We saw in episode five how Lucifer would use his powers to show baby Charlie magic—so I doubt your child would be any different. Although Lucifer would be worried about her ending up like him.

Your daughter is very empathetic. Always helping injured little animals she finds in your back garden. Also, speaking of animals, it’s like she can speak to them. Animals really like and trust her—and by the time she gets older, she has an army.

Very charismatic. Your daughter would be extremely popular in school. Not only because she’s a princess of hell and the daughter of a fallen angel—but because of her charisma and charm. She is extremely outgoing, and will walk up and talk to anyone. Almost everyone loves her—how could they not?

Unfortunately, she would probably have selfish tendencies. Having been spoiled her entire life, she expects everything to be handed to her on a silver platter. And yes, while she can be down-to-earth and empathetic, she isn’t a perfect Angel.

As a teenager, your daughter would likely experience extreme anger issues. We’ve seen Lucifer can control his anger and annoyance…but he’s also been alive for eons. A teenager wouldn’t be able to do that.

She also inherits her father’s powers. From childhood all the way up into her teenage years, she will struggle to control them. Her powers getting stronger the angrier she gets. She is completely out of control, and has to be calmed down.

Looks/Appearance

Blonde. Very very blonde. There is no way she doesn’t inherit the signature blonde Morningstar locks. Oh, and those adorable rosy red cheeks. She’s so cute!

However, she will have your complexion and eyes. I also can imagine your daughter having curly little ringlets or locks, which is extremely hard to brush, because she cries every. single. time. and you just feel so bad about it.

Overall, I think your daughter would look (and dress) something like apple from ever after high, with your eye color and skin tone ofc. (God I love her so much).

Name

Okay. I know I’ve mentioned Apple White already in this post…but I just love her so much! Can you guys imagine Lucifer having a daughter like her?

Do I think he would name his daughter something like Apple? Definitely. I mean, he was the one who offered eve the forbidden fruit; an apple. And he just likes apples.

Another name is Evangeline. Depending on who you ask (or what you google lol) Evangeline can mean one of three things. Angel, messenger, or ‘good news.’ So not only does this name remind him of the good days back in heaven, but also his brother Gabriel, the messenger…is that too much of a stretch?

Another good one is Penelope. The name Penelope is Greek and means ‘weaver’ (not important) or ‘duck’. Wouldn’t it be so cute if Lucifer named his daughter something duck related? You can’t tell me otherwise.

The last name I can think of is Aurelia. (I actually knew an Aurelia lol). Aurelia means ‘golden’ or ‘the golden one.’ Not only is Lucifer referred to as ‘the golden angel’ in mastermind, but he would treat his daughter like a golden treasure. A chance to start over and fix his previous mistakes as a father.

Idk if I should make a part 2…but if I do, would u guys rather it be more Headcannons for Lucifer’s daughter, or a different characters child?

[simplyzeeka]

Ruffian

Part.1

Summary: Ryan has been living a lonely life on her farm for a decade now. With no family to seek company from, she developed a routine with just her and her animals, something that soothed her loneliness. Until her happiness came back a little earlier than expected.

Warnings: MDNI!!! Cussing, chaotic animals, oral (m and f receiving), dirty talk, p in v(no protection), face sitting if you squint. They just missed each other y'all 😔

A/n: So, uhmm. This was supposed to be straight fluff, nothing nasty at all. But sometimes, characters have a mind of their own.

5k+

Ryan always believed life in the countryside was much more peaceful. Although she hasn't even licked the city streets, she hears enough to have a clear and unbiased opinion about it. But that did not mean that the countryside did not have its chaos. “Daisy… Daisy! Come back here girl, where you goin’?”

And most of this chaos came from her small little farm, especially her Great Dane. If it weren't her chickens causing a ruckus, her sheep and goats were raining ditsy havoc. Her only peace came from her Friesian stallion, Ferris, always chewing on a bunch of hay in his stable away from the blasting heat.

Despite all this, Ryan loved her little farm. It was a place with many stories. Tragic and happy alike. She inherited the small plot from her grandmother who raised her into the woman she was, her parents having moved to the city since she was young as a way to send money back into the farm.

Ryan shook her head at her dog’s antics before turning back to the task before her. “Okay, Ro. We’re all done girl, you get some rest.” She spoke quietly to her cow, applying a post-dipping solution on each teat when the spotted animal did not have any more milk to give. Ryan took off her gloves and offered the cow a batch of hay, then left the stable after checking on Ro’s calf.

It was a rather long day, helping a cow give birth was the least of her expectations, luckily her grandmother had always prepared Ryan for such a situation. She carried the bucket of colostrum filled milk that would be used to feed the calf, but stopped to check on her Stallion. “What’s up big guy? Your water still good?” Ryan checked the stable for any irregularities.

Once satisfied she left the stable, securing the lash before a smooth velvet voice caught her attention. “That sissy still standin’? Thought he woulda been long dead.”

Ryan whipped her head behind her, there occupying the entrance of the shed. Worn out timbs and a pair of denim jeans that matched in condition. White wife beaters and a denim jacket over his shoulder, his signature silver chain hanging around his neck. Terrence Richmond was still as handsome as he was all those years ago.

“You lyin’ to me.” Ryan shook her head, eyes blinking slowly, there was no way he stood in front of her currently. It was too early, he wasn't supposed to be back until a few weeks. See, Ryan knew that she should stop smoking the pre-rolls that Willow always brought, they tended to leave her more paranoid than relaxed.

The smile he let out from her quiet whisper was enough to spark a flamelet to her, he really was here. Years and years of being separated and finally, he was in front of her. , “I’m right here, baby.” He dropped the bags in his hand and opened his arms.

It took a while for Ryan to react, rendered speechless just by the mere fact that he was here… with her and near her. Next thing one step turned into two, then three before she was spriniting in his direction. Ryan wasted no time locking her body around his, legs around his waist and her arms wrapped tightly around his neck. Terry held her even tighter, his hands gripping at her thighs so he could hold her up. A soft scent of cinnamon and peaches invaded his nose so delicately that he brushed his nose against her neck to inhale more of the sweet scent.

“I thought you was gon’ be out in a few weeks. I aint even prepare nothin’ for you, coulda held a party or somet-.”

Terry didn't allow her to finish, “Ry baby, I dont need a party. This is good, this is perfect.” Terry protested, honestly so because there was no better way than for him to celebrate his return than with his fiancé.

Ryan held his face, a small pinch between her brows as she inspected his face. “I coulda bought you somethin’ nice at least.”

Terry laughed, knowing that Ryan always wanted nothing more than to please. Her heart plummeted at the sound, she missed it… thought she'd never hear it again, but Terry had a way of always coming back to her. “God, I missed you, like a fish outta water.”

Their noses nudged as she spoke, until the distance between their lips became a little too much to bear and Terry pressed their lips together. He swallowed the sound of her content sigh, felt her relax as she leisurely responded.

The small flame in her heart spread to the rest of her body, little embers flicking off her body when his hands grabbed at her supple flesh intentionally.

Ryan grew into her womanhood, everything about her screamed ‘grown’ and Terry loved every moment of that realisation. Ten years… he hasn't seen his woman for ten years, didn't watch her grow and grow with her. But he had time to spare now, and he would be damned if he didn't spend it on Ryan.

It took being placed on a block of hay and Terry stepping between her legs that made her push him away gently. “Mmm wait baby, we can't. Ro just calved.” She explained breathlessly while playing with the charm on his chain.

“Ro? As in little Ro?” Terry asked shocked, “She getting down and busy?” Ryan rolled her eyes and smacked his shoulder with a laugh.

“Ro ain't so little no more. And, she been gettin’ down and busy. This her third baby.”

Terry immediately moved his body away from Ryan, running her fingers through his short curls. “Somebody got my baby pregnant?” He frowned at the declaration, no longer in the mood to get acquainted with Ryan’s body. This was big.

Ryan huffed at his Oscar winning antics. “Terry, please. She damn near eleven years old, and also a cow. Breedin’ is what they do.” She explained, not that she thought they had to, he knew what it was when he bought Ro.

“Yeah, but not my Ro.”

Ryan cackled at that, he never failed to treat all the livestock on this farm like children… except her horse of course. She couldn't blame him, Terry and Ryan bought Ro off a cow breeder before he left for the military. They were only twenty years old, freshly engaged and had a dream to grow a farm together… their farm. Ro was their first cow, a big accomplishment because cows were expensive as hell.

“Okay, Soldier. Calm down.” Ryan got up from the hay and walked over to Terry. “How bout you help me carry the milk to the kitchen?” She suggested, pointing at the half full bucket of milk behind him.

Reluctantly, Terry obliged, he picked up the bucket and followed Ryan to the kitchen. She did some work to the small area, it looked different from the last time he saw it.

“You recolored?” He asked, placed the bucket on the floor before looking around. It smelled like freshly baked cookies, which didn't surprise Terry, he knew how much Ryan loved to bake.

“Mhm, got tired of the grey.” Ryan grabbed the bucket of milk and poured it in baby bottles for the calf when it woke up, she had fed it a while before it went into a deep sleep.

Terry couldn't help but to watch her, like really watch her. Her face, her hair, her skin. Everything about her. Dressed in a plain shirt, the front of it tied in a knot, showing a bit of her stomach. Flared jeans that hugged her thighs enticingly. As always, Ryan wore a low cut, stetson hat on her head, she wouldn't leave the house without one on.

She looked good, damn good and Terry found himself unable to keep composure again. A few tentative steps was all it took until he was behind her. His hands placed on her hips while his fingers dig into her belt loops as to pull her hips into his.

Ryan let out a soft laugh when she felt tickling kisses behind her ear travelling to her neck. He smelled like he always did. Honey and a hint of musk. “I'm tryna concentrate, Terrence.” Ryan began, not detering from her task, just as stubborn as Terry was on his because he didn't let up on her.

“You can do this later. Come on, Ry. I miss you.” Terry countered.

Ryan shook her head, this was important, the baby needed their milk. “And I got you later. Gon’ make you dinner and everythin’.” She turned to face him, arms wrapping around his neck, fingers playing with the little curls on the nape of his neck.

Terry sighed and looked down at her. She was so pretty. Her cheeks softly filled out, cheekbones lifting as she smiled. He bit his lower lip to stop himself from letting out a soft grunt of frustration, how was he supposed to hold off when she looked this good.

“Alright, I'ma hold you to that.” He nodded, sending a small smack to her ass and a kiss to her plump lips. “Anything you need me to help with?”

“Can you check on Ro?” Terry nodded in agreement, pecking her lips one more time before retreating from the kitchen.

“Yes ma'am.”

Time passed slowly, that when evening rolled in, Ryan was already spent from her day. She made sure that Ro and her calf were settled in for sleeping as all her other babies. As usual, her chickens gave her more of a run around, but Terry helped put them in their coop.

She had just finished with dinner, opted for a bit of a full plate as Terry's first proper meal since being back.

He was currently in the shower washing the day away while she got the table ready. She had Janet Jackson playing in the background, something she always did to decompress from a busy day of farm work.

“Terry! Come on now. The food gettin’ cold.” She called out, impatiently seated, waiting for him so they could eat.

“I'm here, I'm here.” He rushed down the stairs. His heavy steps creaked on loose floorboards. He marvelled at the effort that Ryan put into making such a vast dinner for him. Terry couldn't remember the last time he's had a proper meal straight out the pot.

“Smells good baby.” He complimented, landing a peck on her cheek before he took a seat in front of her. “Looks good too.”

Ryan smiled in appreciation, “Thank you, baby.” She did a little jiggle at the compliment, causing Terry to laugh endearingly. “Alright, let's eat. I'm hungrier than a tic on a teddy bear.”

And at that they dug in. Ryan and Terry caught up with everything they have missed together. Ten years, and Ryan still couldn't help but feel like a giddy school kid around Terry. He always had that effect on her, and something told her that he always would.

Terry ate like a man starved and Ryan used this time he was distracted to admire him. He gained muscle… a lot of muscle. While he wasn't necessarily a man of small stature, Terry came back with his clothes stretched out. She eyed his prominent veins pop out everytime he flexed his arm even the slightest.

He trimmed his beard out and kept his goatee. It was a small change, but a nice one. She remembered constantly calling him ‘patchy’ back when he was trying to fully grow it but it wouldn't grow the way he liked it.

Once dinner was done, Terry offered to wash the dishes since Ryan cooked. “You go get the bed ready, pretty. I'ma be up there in a few.”

Ryan nodded and her small feet pattered up the stairs to her bedroom. She made sure to turn the ceiling fan on, the heat making her a little irritated. “Hotter than satan’s crack.” She mumbled lowly, naive to the presence in the room.

“Wouldn't be feeling so hot if you got out those jeans.” Terry commented from behind her, arms wrapping around her torso. “You tryna get me out my clothes, Mr. Richmond?” She turned to face him, hands rested against his ripple chest.

Terry playfully shook his head, nudging his nose against hers. “Nah, I wouldn't dare, Mrs. Richmond.”

Fuck she loved that, she couldn't wait until she could become that formally. Ryan landed a kiss on his lips, missed that. Missed kissing him so much, touching him and loving him.

The kiss picked up pace. While Terry had always been an impatient man, the time they have spent apart left him with an insatiable hunger. Ryan breathed him in, cupping his lower jaw as to pull away slightly for some air. Terry chased her lips, not giving a damn about breathing with Ryan this close in his proximity.

They crashed together again, then stumbled everywhere in the room. Terry tapped her thigh twice, before he rested his hands on the underside of her thighs and picked her up with ease, and on the bed he laid Ryan gently.

Her hands fumbled with her belt buckle, not wanting to waste anymore time talking and laughing. She wanted him, in every way he came to her.

Terry took over, gently removing her hands and undid the buckle himself, except he took his time. Once the leather was gone, he unbuttoned her jeans with his teeth, sliding them down her thick thighs along with the orange lace panties that he wished he had taken the time to appreciate on her.

Ryan was breathing heavily, watching as Terry kissed on her exposed stomach. He was serenading her with his lips, silently telling her how much he missed her.

The pillows of his lips moved from her stomach, down to her pelvis. He kissed the visible scar on the soft skin, one she got when she tried shaving without any guidance for the first time.

By the feel of his lips moving lower, Ryan was too anticipated to let him do what he wanted. She wasn't in the mood for foreplay.

“Terry, I don't need that now.” She whispered as she rested on her elbows, looking down at the earthiness of his eyes. Fuck him for being so beautiful.

“Hm? What you need then?”

Ryan shook her head, she knew what he wanted. He wanted her to explicitly tell him what she wanted. But how could she so boldly tell him that she wanted to be stuffed with his dick.

“Closed mouths don't get fed, baby. Gotta let me know what you want so I can give it to you.”

“I can't, T.” She reasoned softly.

“Yes you can, I know you can. You know why? Cause you're my baby, and my baby listens.”

Ryan sighed heavily, unable to understand why he couldn't just fuck her and call it a night. Now he was bringing all this Military obedience bullshit to her at the worst of times. It frustrated her.

“Terry, come on. Please.”

He noted her frustration, sighed in disappointment before he stood to his full height. “Okay baby.”

“We'll fix that some other time.”

And she knew that was a promise he was going to keep. Ryan smiled in relief, gasped suddenly when he kissed her feverishly.

This kiss was sloppy. They nipped at each other's lips before Ryan granted him access into her mouth.

And inevitably, allowed entrance into her leaking folds as well.

It wasn't just his muscles that grew, his dick seemed to have gained an extra pound as well because it laid heavy inside her, stretching her out that she knew nobody would ever be able to fill his space, not that she wanted anybody to.

Ryan struggled to take it, regardless of the fact that he was going slow, she still couldn't take it. The mushroom of his tip brushed carelessly at the soft tissue of her spot at every thrust, it had her recoiling away everytime he pulled out.

“Don't piss me off, Ryan. You wanted this right?” Terry gritted out, his grip on her hips tight as she rolled his hips up into her yet again. Slow, deep strokes. Just as she liked. “Hm? Answer me, baby.”

Her pussy was gold. Always has been, always will be. Ryan had no right to grip at him like that and expect him to let her run. You couldn't offer somebody candy and expect them not to indulge, it was inhumane, at least to Terry it was.

He had her holding her legs, presenting herself to him so she could watch where their hips met without obstruction. Ryan's essence pooled around her thighs and Terry's, leaked out everytime he pulled out the piping heat of her pussy to where his tip is all that stayed, before he dove his heavy dick back inside her so he could kiss her insides.

“Fuck. Y-yes I did.” Ryan managed to respond, her brows drawn together, her eyes too stuck on where they connected. Watched as rings of cream coasted the thick base of his dick. “Fat fuckin’ dick. Oh my… yess.” She whispered softly, throwing her head back, her grip on her thighs tightened ever so oftenly.

“And you love me, hmm baby? You love me don't you?”

“Yes yes yes yesss. Love you so much. Oh my God.” Ryan looked up at him with teary eyes.

“So don't run from what you love baby, don't run from me. Take this dick, there you go, girl. Pretty fuckin’ pussy.”

He fucked like a grown man now too. Before he left, Terry and Ryan had good sex, she wouldn't dispute that. But it never felt like this, he definitely missed her, and he sure as fuck was showing her just how much.

“So deep, so fuckin’ deep, T. Just like that.”

“Yeah? In your stomach baby?” Terry watched where his dick poked out on her stomach.

But Ryan shook her head dumbly, he felt way beyond that. “In my- shittt. In my heart.”

“In your heart?” Terry laughed, the sound causing Ryan's walls to pulsate around as they clenched. That drew a hiss out of Terry before he continued. “Dick got you talkin’ dumb baby.”

Ryan moaned at that. Fuck she liked that, she liked that a lot. It made her ooze more of her juices, down her ass and onto the bed.

“Ease up mama, let me in.” Terry groaned, struggling to dig her out the way he wanted to because she gripped at his dick so tight, sucking him in with every thrust. “Open up, Ryan. Let Daddy in.”

“Shittt.” She creamed at that. Fuck he was so sexy, so so sexy she wanted to give him children. Ryan tried to open up more, but the heaviness of his dick made it hard. He was impaling her, and he expected her to make that easier for him?

Terry wrapped her legs around his waist, leaned lower, his elbows near either side of her head. Their foreheads touched and Ryan wasted no time touching on him.

He was angled so much deeper like this, but that wasn't what had her heart pumping. The way he looked at her, while slowly pumping her full of dick had her reciting her love for him all over again.

“I love you, love you so fuckin’ much, T.” She spoke with her eyes stuck on his, hands caressing his jaw as her mouth fell open at his pace. “Fuck yesss.”

“Fuck this pussy magic. Wanna die in it, wetting me up so good. Pretty baby, you so pretty Ry. You hear me? So so pretty. Love you, till death yeah?.”

And she believed him, believed that he would die for her because Terry has shown her his love, showed her that she deserves that kind of love, and that kind of love deserved her.

“Oh my God… I'ma cum. I'm cummin’ baby.”

“I know, I feel it baby, I feel you. Let it go, cum on your dick mama.” He coached her, leaving kisses on her face as he maintained the pace of his hips. He whispered profanities and sweet everything's in her ear as Ryan squeezed around him.

“Fuck fuck fuhhh. Oh my God, I love you.” She gasped when she gushed on him heavily. Her cum leaked out of her, damn near pushing Terry out of her walls. He fucked her through it, kissing her slightly sweaty skin.

He pulled away from her, rubbing her thighs lovingly and watched as she caught her breath. “Turn over, I ain't done.” Terry sent a small smack to the side of her thighs and laughed when he heard her whine but still as obedient as ever, oblige to his command.

On her elbows and knees, Ryan spread her legs slightly, earning an appreciative hum from Terry as he gripped at her plump ass.

“Look at you.” He said, eyeing the slick that covered her heat before blowing on her swollen bud. “She missed me, hmm?” he asked no one in particular, yet still, Ryan responded with a silent “Yes, Sir.” that had Terry grabbing the base of his dick. The sound of her accent didn't make this any better.

He sent a long stripe from her clit to her pulsating hole. Sucked her bud into his mouth and gave her pussy lazy kisses that left Ryan leaking again.

Ryan gripped at the sheets in front of her. This man was insatiable, and she knew that there was a long night ahead of her, if not a few days as well. “Shit shit shit, like that. Just like that.”

He hummed against her, the vibrations creating pressure waves inside of her, amplifying the pleasure that was being sent to her brain. “Taste so fucking good, look at this shit.” Terry said and spread her lips apart, before diving back in, slipping his pink muscle inside her and exploring more of her taste.

Ryan's thighs shook, almost causing her to fall out of the position. “Keep that fucking arch, Ryan. You hear me?”

She whined in response, pinched her eyes together from the slight overstimulation.

Terry was a noisy eater, slurping and slipping. Didn't even mind moaning at her taste, occasionally praising how much she got wet, how pretty her pussy looked, how much he loved her.

Once he was done with his oral loving, he teased Ryan's entrance with his tip. Slapped it against her clit a few times before sliding it between her folds.

Once he slowly plunged into her slowly, he threw his head back and whimpered shamelessly. The sound made Ryan smile to herself, loving how he expressed himself freely in that sense.

“Fuckk, not sure if I can hold off mama.” She muttered, pulled out then plunged back in again, the sight made his dick twitch. “Can't believe I went ten years without this pussy. Never again, okay baby?”

Terry began the relentless thrusting. Pulled her hips back against him, watching the recoil of her ass in appreciation. “Never again. Gon’ die in this shit if I have to.” His bottom lip sank between his teeth, watching himself enter her with more and more cream decorating his veiny dick.

Ryan was at a loss of words, couldn't speak as tears filled her eyes. Dick couldn't be this good. She understood now why women often fought for their men, there was no way she's ever letting up on this. Terry would get fucked up for even doing something as stupid as think of getting with another woman.

Naturally, she threw her ass back on him, because she missed him. And he deserved this, deserved so much more. “Fuckkk that's it, show out mama. Take your dick, just like that. Taking me so good, it's yours ain't it?”

The sound of skin clapping and squelching could be heard in the room, accompanied by the sound of their persistent moans and whimpers. Their declarations of love and praises.

“So big, stretchin’ me so much. Fuck, let up Terry.” Ryan cried out, reached behind her to push against his stomach. Terry ignored that, instead, he just slid back in deeper. He angled his hips that made him kiss her cervix with so much pressure. Ryan opened her mouth agape and her arm fell forward to grip the sheets.

"Why you fucking me like this?" She moaned out elongated, using the leverage of her elbows to pull her hips away from him.

"Cause you deserve it. You deserve this nut, baby." Terry gritted out, so concentrated at the work he was putting between her thighs, watching the mesmerising waves on her ass every time their skin slapped.

"Working so hard every damn day, takin' care of the house, the farm. You don't gotta worry bout that no more though, cause Daddy's home. You hear me, Ry?" Terry angled his hip in a way that dug her out in a way that would have had her promising babies, but she held off.

All she could do was nod, grip the sheets harder. Her moans leaking out her mouth like the faucet between her legs. "Mh mh, say it. Say Daddy's home baby."

“Daddy’s home… fuckkk daddy's home. I'm bout to cum.”

“Right behind you baby, cum with me baby. Hold it just a little longer.”

Ryan tried, she tried so hard to listen but she couldn't hold it. She began squirming on him, yelling chants of ‘I love you's’.

The feel of her clenching sent Terry over the edge. “Fuck fuck fuckk, I'm cummin’.” He grunted before he spilled inside her then fucked his nut inside her.

The two gathered their breath, catching a sense of time and space while coming down their highs.

Once Terry pulled out, Ryan believed she was done. “Sit up baby.” Terry called out gently, rubbing her back gently as she moved around the bed.

Once she was sat on the bed, she was face to face-to-face with his slick covered dick. He definitely was bigger, and the sight of his cum mixed with hers had her mouth watering.

Ryan looked up at Terry, the corners of his lips lifted slightly. “You okay?” He asked for assurance to continue first, the ball was in her hands.

Ryan eagerly nodded. She wanted this, needed this even. “Clean me up then.” he ordered.

Hesitantly, she wrapped her hands around him. Even with both hands, his head still peaked out. The weight of it felt tantalising.

“Don't play around with that shit, Ry. Eat it up.”

Immediately, her lips wrap around his head, sucking gently. Her eyes met his when her tongue poked out to lick from her shaft to the base. They tasted good together, like a match made perfectly in heaven.

Ryan slid her mouth around him, sliding her lips lower as she inhaled. Her hands wrapped around what she couldn't fit into her mouth. He felt heavier on her tongue. “That's right, nice and slow. Ain't goin’ nowhere mama.” Terry watched with his lip caught between his teeth.

His brows furrowed as she took him with skill, just as he taught her all those years ago. Ryan began bobbing her head, her eyes already getting teary at the way he stretched her mouth open.

“Just like that. My baby getting me right. Take what you need.”

Ryan picked up the pace, slurping at his dick like it was her last meal, slowly easing him deeper in her throat, her nose slowly inching towards his pelvis.

“Look at you. Nasty ass, you love this dick Ryan?”

She nodded her head, hummed in response as well knowing that would drive him crazy. By now, she was damn near deep throating him, his tip kissing the back of her throat.

Ryan clenches her throat around his head which causes Terry to buck his hips forward. Ryan pulled away to get some air, breathing loudly as her hand twisted around the weight of the muscle.

She tapped the head against her tongue before sliding it back into her mouth.

Terry laughed, he wanted to be gentle, wanted to let her do her thing. But now she had him worked up, teasing him as if she wanted him to show out.

Gripping the back of her head, Terry pulled her away from him, before guiding her back towards his head.

“Breathe, baby. Breath.” He instructed, watching as Ryan nodded in understanding.

Terry slid into her mouth, watching her jaw relax as she breathed, right until her nose touched his pelvis. He heard her gag and relieved her by pulling out.

Tears adorned her eyelids, falling when she blinked up at him with spit running down her chin. “So good baby, you think you can do it?”

Ryan nodded her head. “Yeah, I can, promise. Please.”

“Mhm, ‘course you can.” He said before siding back into her mouth. “Love being slutted out, don't you mama. Mi get yuh, baby.”

The patois, fuck the patois. It wasn't often that she heard it before he left, only ever when he was angry. Then he spoke in patois, but during sex? Ryan has never heard it, and she's not sure she wanted him to stop.

Ryan hummed around his dick. He used her mouth for good measure. “You so pretty like this.” He praised as his thrusted into her mouth gently, loving the sight of her lips wrapping around him.

Ryan did a few tricks with her tongue, drawing him closer to his orgasm. “Fuckkk Ry. Fuck baby, I'm bout to nut. You gon catch it?” He asked breathlessly, brows pinched together as his grip on her head tightened.

Ryan moaned around him, her hands rested on top of his thighs. The room filled with sounds of gagging and Terry's moans.

It didn't fall unnoticed to Terry the hands that rested between Ryan's legs. She was playing with herself, smearing his nut between her fold as she rubbed leisure circles on her sensitive bud. Perhaps she liked Terry in her mouth more than she thought she did.

Terry laughed at that sight, pulled out of her mouth and heard as she gasped to take a breath. Ryan chased the head of his dick, clearly not happy with how soon it ended, he didn't even cum yet. Despite all the spit running down her chest and the tears that filled her eyes, she still wanted more.

Terry teased her, pulling her head back everytime she got close to having him back in her mouth. “Terry, come on.” She whispered desperately.

Hr knew she could get down and grimey if she wanted to. Terry knew that Ryan could fuck him to sleep if she wanted to, if only she could stop being so shy. They'd get there though, he'll make sure of it.

“It's right there baby, go head and take it.” He urged, tilting her head to see her face better. “Or you want me to give it to you?” Ryan immediately nodded her head, she liked him being rough, taking what he needed because he knew she would do nothing but give.

“You lazy as fuck Ryan. Daddy gon get you right, though.”

His hand let go of her hair, wrapped his hand around her neck instead, squeezed just enough to slow down the blood from going to her head.

Ryan felt a little lightheaded when Terry pulled her up to where she stood on her feet. Her hand wrap around his wrist, her eyes crossed eve so slightly when he squeezed tighter. “Fuck.” She whispered.

Terry pecked her lips. Once, twice, and a few more times. “You okay, baby?” He asked, releasing some tension on her neck but kept his hand there.

“Mhm, I'm fine. Thank you.” She smiled tiredly.

“Good. Cause I aint finished. Come sit on my face.”

“Terry. I'm tired, I got a lot of work tomorrow.” She shook her head incredulously. There was no way he could possible have that much energy. What water are they giving these men in the military?

“And ain't I say Daddy's home?. I'ma help with all that.” He tapped her thigh.

Ryan sighed and climbed over him on the bed, hovered over his face slightly, clearly worried about suffocating him.

“Don't play with me, Ryan. I said sit.”

Ryan rolled her eyes, happy he couldn't see her. “Sir, yes Sir.” She mumbled before lowering on his perfectly sculpted face, his eyes gazing up at her as he munched away between her thighs.

Taglist:

@blyffe @peachbutterfly-blog @browngirldominion @blackmoonchilee @megamindsecretlair @mogul93 @earthchica @nayaesworld

Likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated. Hope you enjoyed. Comment if you want to be on my permanent taglist.

[drabblejester]

How would genshin impact characters or hsr characters respond if reader said “Do you still love me if I was a worm?”

would VARIOUS GENSHIN/HSR CHARACTERS still love you if you were a WORM?

requested by: anon :3

pairings: sampo, sparkle, neuvillette, and dottore x gn!reader

content warnings: none !

comments: the dottore is self indulgent sorry my liege. i love him

NEUVILLETTE:

You’re both sitting in his office, you pulled up in a comfortable chair while he sits in his throne-like one. You’re pretty empty brained, but a question soon pricks up. Would Neuvillette still love you if you were a worm?

You turn to him, blinking before asking the question. His gaze turns to you quickly, turning from attentive to confused in an instant. His eyes stare through yours.

“A worm?”

“Yes, a worm.”

“… Why would you suddenly turn into a worm?”

You hadn’t thought that far. You space out for a bit, mulling over the question in your head before deciding on an acceptable answer.

“That doesn’t matter- would you still love me?”

He thinks about the question heavily, bringing a finger up to his chin as he contemplated. Looks like the both of you really had to think about this.

“Mm. I would miss you, but I would still give you a plentiful enclosure. With many fruits, and plenty of dirt to.. squirm around in.”

You accept this answer, placing a light kiss to his nose before going off to your mind.

SPARKLE:

“Nope, I wouldn’t!”

Her answer is very plain and simple, grinning at you as if she just won an argument. You pout at her, how cruel!

“Wasn’t Aha’s emanator a worm? Why would I ever be different!” You yell (playfully), gently pushing Sparkle.

“I’d crush that little worm, and I’d crush you too and watch all your little wormy guts spill out! Bleegh!!” She cries, rushing towards your torso to reenact a FNAF jumpscare(THATS THE BEST WAY I COULD PUT THIS IM SORRY.)

You fall backwards to the floor, squirming around as she tries to grab at you again and again. If anything, you really look like a worm right now.

“What did I ever do to you! Wouldn’t even put me in a little box? Not even a fun one with glitter and flowers-“

“Not a chance!”

“Well, what would YOU do if YOU were turned into a worm?!”

She thought for a few seconds, before answering with a big, big smile. She approached you, skipping around you like she was playing ring-around-the-rosie.

“I’d expect you to make a massive enclosure just for me! And fresh food daily, and misting, and lots and LOTS of love…”

SAMPO:

You ask the question to him while you’re both on your phones, simply existing together. He turns to look at you with a puzzled expression, before it softens up again.

“Ohoh- isn’t this one of those little coupley questions~?” He purrs, gently tapping his fist against the top of your head. His smile is contagious, resulting in you inheriting it as well.

“Well, good ol Sampo ‘Worm Expert’ Koski will be HAPPY to answer your question! Ahem, excuse me-“

Sampo proceeds to fix his hair dramatically, clearing his throat before adjusting the collar of his shirt. You watch him as if you’re watching your favorite show.

“A nice little glass enclosure so I can look at you, some fruits and veggies, oats- do you like oats still? Oh, so what- I’m getting off-track!” He whines.

His little performance totally captures you, and you find your head being moved to his lap rather quickly. You stare up at him, one hand folded over his as you watch him ramble.

“-And regular watering, making sure your enclosure is nice and wet. Don’t forget the temperature just to your liking! And some other things…”

DOTTORE:

You’re met with a dismissive grunt from him as soon as you even speak. He waves his hand in your direction halfhazardly, going back to the little engineering project.

“Did you even hear me? I said-“

“-I heard you just fine. I’m not answering your question, go ask another segment.” He grumbles, in a mildly annoyed mood (as always).

You wind up leaving his office, going down the darkened corridors to find another segment to answer your question. Although you pass multiple of them, they all seem busy and unwilling to talk.

Eventually you stumble across the perfect segment to ask. Yet again, you repeat the question. He simply looks at you strange, before going back to walking down the hallway.

“Can you hear correctly?” You shout after him, to no response. He could hear you just fine- he just didn’t have an answer.

You carry on the hallway, and into rooms, for a very long time. The moon sets and the sun rises before an answer finally creeps up on you.

Dottore puts an ungloved hand on your shoulder from behind you, glancing up and down at you. Your breath hitches in your chest, awaiting some lovely and well-thought out answer, totally befitting of the Doctor-

“No.”

Dottore walks away, leaving you unloved as a worm.

my lieges would you still enjoy me if i was a worm

[sunshinehaze1]

Unwrapped

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader (f. Marcus Acacius & Lucilla Aurelius)

Summary: You attend your friend Lucilla's annual holiday party and meet someone new.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI. Modern AU, no outbreak or battles in the colosseum, meet-cute, fingering, unprotected PiV (do better), creampie, no use of y/n

a/n: This is my Secret Santa gift for my beautiful friend @ak-vintage. Her Pedro faves are Joel, Marcus A., and Din. I hope you like it, Ash! ❤️ and that you'll forgive me for not elaborating further on the party bathroom smut 🤭 tysm to @80ssong for the beta! 🥰 and big time thanks to @pr3ttynpiink for organizing! ❤️

word count: 4,386

ao3 | ml

As you walk up the driveway, you admire the lights trailing along the edges of Marcus and Lucilla's house. They live in a large, luxurious home decked in over-the-top opulence. Roman columns frame the front porch, wrapped in garland and accented with gold bows and lighting. Glittery white lights perfectly line the edges of the house, and more are draped meticulously over the immaculately trimmed shrubs. Their house practically lights up the whole neighborhood. It's hard to imagine their electric bill; you're thankful you don't have to pay it.

You met Lucilla earlier this year while volunteering at the local food bank. You decided to volunteer to meet people after moving to the area recently. Lucilla comes from money; her father was the CEO of a local business, and she inherited a large amount of money when he passed. So she has plenty of free time to give back to those in the community who are less fortunate.

After one of your volunteer shifts, Lucilla invited you for coffee. You found her to be surprisingly down to earth. It's not typical of your experience with people who come from money and have had things handed to them. She's very grounded and wise. You quickly became friends, and she's like the big sister you never had. She has at least a decade on you, and you've often turned to her for advice as you assimilate to Austin. It's comforting to have a support system in the area.

You've been invited to her beautiful home for dinners numerous times and met her handsome husband, Marcus. He's around Lucilla's age with soft, greying curls, always perfectly coifed. His face is framed with Romanesque features and a prominent nose. Having retired a couple of years ago as a general in the Army, he still maintains a thick, sturdy physique that offers an intimidating presence. He's anything but. You've only seen him as soft, gentle, and welcoming. You've spent enough time with them that you've been able to observe their relationship quietly, and it's nothing short of "relationship goals." You hope to find a loving relationship like theirs for yourself one day.

They throw these holiday parties every year, and this is your first time attending. You're bound to have a great time based on what you've heard about past years' parties. And you look forward to meeting new people. Who knows, maybe you'll meet someone.

Lucilla and Marcus go all out. The outdoor decorations were only a precursor to what awaits you inside. It looks like a Christmas store blew up. Garland is wrapped around the staircase banister and the fireplace mantle with perfectly placed ornaments. Every door frame is adorned with mistletoe dangling over the threshold, waiting for unsuspecting guests to pass through. Santas and snowmen of varying sizes sit on tables and shelves. Silvery snowflakes decorate the walls, and you spot not one but three different Christmas trees. Each has its own theme.

The expansive kitchen island has a beautiful spread of charcuterie, wines, and liquors and a punch bowl of spiked egg nog; holiday songs, clinking glasses, and the smell of mulled cider waft through the air.

--

Joel is a good sport. He's not a fan of large gatherings. He'd much rather hang out in the backyard with a beer, catching up with his brother. Or when Sarah was still at home, a night on the couch watching a movie. Nights that would end with Sarah falling asleep halfway through the movie and Joel carrying her upstairs to bed. With his reserved nature, he tends to be a wallflower at parties and a quiet observer. This one, which his employee, Marcus, invited him to, is no different.

He's found himself in a corner, making small talk with another partygoer who, unfortunately, found out what Joel does and has since been bending his ear about house renovations. Joel spots you as you walk through the door, ignoring the man in front of him, who continues to prattle on how he can't decide which faucet to place in his half bath.

Joel finds himself gawking at you. You're a vision in your eggplant velvet wrap dress with a satin sash tied into a bow on the side of your waist. The dress hugs every curve of your body, with a skirt that falls to your mid-thigh, providing Joel a view of your shapely legs. The dress's neckline cuts into a deep v, hinting at what's underneath. You're a fucking knockout.

He observes as you juggle a wrapped gift box for the white elephant exchange and a hostess gift in your other hand. It's a lavender-scented candle. You've noticed Lucilla wears the scent often. You greet Lucilla with a hug and kiss on the cheek. Offering her a wide, glowing smile. Oh god, you're beautiful. Joel is shaken from his enamored haze when the sound of broken glass interrupts his thoughts. He must find a way to talk to you before he leaves tonight.

--

Over the last hour or so, you've had a chance to meet everyone at the party—neighbors, family friends, Marcus's old Army buddies, and their spouses. All of them were very nice, but the small talk was exhausting, so you're thankful when you hear Lucilla quiet the guests with a shout, "ALRIGHT EVERYONE TO THE LIVING ROOM! It's time for the gift exchange."

You enter the living room and look for a place to sit. Various chairs are lined up around the couches, almost all already taken. You decide to remain standing rather than scramble to find an open seat.

While Lucilla explains the rules, a basket with small pieces of folded-up paper is passed around the room, with numbers 1-30 written on each. You select yours and pass it to the man beside you; rough fingers graze your hand as you complete the handoff. He thanks you, and you turn to get a better look at the owner of the deep, gravelly voice.

You're struck by how ruggedly handsome he is. A sharp nose, plush lips, and patchy facial hair sprinkled with greys. He's wearing a crisp light blue button-up and dark jeans that hug him just right. It seems you haven't met everyone at the party yet. How did he escape your notice?

He catches you staring, "What number did ya get?"

"Um…" you look down at your paper, "29. How about you?"

"Looks like I got lucky tonight," he turns his piece of paper around to show you, "30." He winks.

Uh oh. He's handsome and charming. You're in trouble.

"Name's Joel. How do you know Marcus and Lucilla?"

You introduce yourself and tell him about your volunteer work and how you met Lucilla. "And you?"

"Marcus works for me." Your surprised reaction amuses him, and he continues. "After he retired, he was looking for part-time work to keep himself busy. I own a contracting business."

That explains his rugged appearance and calloused hands. You take in his broad shoulders and biceps, which cause the seams of his shirt to work overtime to stay together. Lucilla interrupts your thoughts, "OK, now that everyone has their number, we'll go ahead and get started!"

A woman named Simone starts things off. After selecting a gift from under the tree, she tears the wrapping paper to reveal a cat-shaped ice cube tray. The crowd erupts in laughter when she shows it around the room. It's not a very appealing gift, which likely means she'll be stuck with it. You doubt anyone will want to "steal" it from her, but at least it has practical use. 

The game continues with half the participants taking their turn. Lucilla's son, Lucius, is next. You met him briefly when Lucilla introduced you earlier. He's in town to spend the holidays with his mother. After over a decade apart, he reconnected with Lucilla a few years ago. The relationship is still in repair but moving in the right direction. You know how important it is to Lucilla to have him here.

You haven't gotten the full story from Lucilla, but you know it's a sensitive subject for her, so you've never pressed too hard. You've left the door open for her to share if and when she's ready. He and Marcus seem to have an agreeable relationship and get along fine, which you're happy to see. Stepparent and stepchild relationships can be pretty fraught. He's a handsome kid who resembles Lucilla, but you think he inherited most of his looks from his father.

Lucius takes his turn and decides to steal a gift that was already stolen, securing it himself. The game continues as the room works through the numbers. A steady din of laughter echoes through the room as the exchange becomes more cutthroat. It's all in good fun, though.

Finally, it's your turn. You walk over to the tree where two gifts remain. One is a box covered in teal wrapping paper with a gold diamond pattern and embellished with a twine ribbon. The other one is a tall, slender gift bag that is the perfect size to hold a bottle of wine. You choose the box and return to your spot next to Joel.

All eyes in the room are now on you as you unwrap the gift. Pulling the paper away, you squeal when you see it's a Funko Pop figure. You try to remain calm when you remove the rest of the paper and recognize it is The Mandalorian and Grogu.

This is a score, and you can't believe your luck. You love Star Wars, especially The Mandalorian. And it's not just because you have a crush on the actor who plays him. You love the storytelling and the world-building. This isn't something you'd buy for yourself, but you'll proudly display it in your home. With Joel as the last person left, you hope your brief interaction with him has earned you enough favor that he won't steal your gift.

However, you don't know that Joel and his daughter watch The Mandalorian over Facetime every Sunday night. It's a way for them to stay connected now that she's miles away. They're on their third rewatch, and he treasures these nights with his daughter. He eyes the Funko Pop in your hand and thinks Sarah would get a kick out of this cute figure. Even if he has no clue what a Funko is.

Joel hems and haws, trying to decide if he should go for the last gift under the tree, which he suspects is a bottle of wine. He wouldn't have much use for it as he's more of a beer guy. Or steal your gift and potentially derail any opportunity he may have had to get to know you better. After a few moments of quiet deliberation, he opts to steal.

You huff in defeat, bummed that you lost out on your gift, and hand the box over to Joel. You know it's all in good fun, and Joel had no malicious intent behind his decision. You retrieve the last gift from under the tree, confirming your suspicion of what was inside.

After the gift exchange is complete, the guests disperse throughout the house. You're looking over the wine's label when you feel an elbow nudge your bicep. Your attention turns to Joel, who has a sheepish look. "Sorry for that. My daughter and I love The Mandalorian. We watch it together every Sunday night while she's away at school," he sighs.

Now, how can you be upset about that? Of course, he had a heartwarming reason behind his decision to steal. "Oh, it's no big deal. I'm just happy he's going to a good home."

Joel chuckles. "Would you like a drink?"

You nod and follow him into the kitchen.

--

With your cup of eggnog, you settle at a threshold out of the way of party traffic. He tells you more about the contracting business he owns with his younger brother. You share more about yourself and how you moved to Austin for a job opportunity. He's incredibly handsome, and you get lost in his brown eyes. His quiet confidence and sense of humor are extremely sexy.

Joel recounts a time when his brother screwed up an order for a job. He ordered the incorrect size of lumber and set the project back a week. Joel took over placing orders after that. He shares his hunch that his brother purposefully messed up the order, so he no longer has to do it.

His retelling is endearing. Through it, you get a good sense of his love for his brother, but as with most sibling relationships, some things drive him crazy. You can relate.

A silence falls between you two for the first time since you began talking. You're not even sure how much time has passed. However, it's been long enough to cause a crick in your neck since you've had to look up at Joel this whole time. You tilt your head, rolling it back and forth to stretch it out. When you open your eyes, you're frozen as you realize where you and Joel have been standing. Your chest begins to warm at the implication of where this could lead.

Joel follows your gaze to see what's caught your attention. He gulps when he spots the leafy instigator. His palms sweat as he straightens, and you make eye contact.

The warmth in your chest has moved up your neck as Joel's eyes lock with yours. The swirl of the party moves around you two, and you feel frozen in time. At this moment, it is just you and Joel. A soft smile appears on his face. "Welp. Do you know what this means?"

You swallow, take a deep breath, and offer an inviting smile. "It can only mean one thing."

Joel leans in. You feel his hot breath as his face nears yours. This sweet, funny, handsome man is about to kiss you, and you remind yourself to breathe. His index finger lifts your chin toward him, his lips brushing over yours. It feels like hours have ticked by at this standstill when only seconds have passed. But your patience still wears thin, "Well…what are you waiting for?"

Joel laughs and finally closes the distance. His lips capture yours in a chaste kiss, aware you are not alone. You press your lips to his and let out a soft moan. The sparks you've only read about in novels start to fly, butterflies flutter around in your stomach, and you see fireworks shooting off behind your eyelids. You keep them shut out of fear that you'll wake up from a dream if you don't.

You blink back as you pull yourself away from Joel. Knocked on your ass over a kiss. If his kiss can feel like that, you can only imagine what more would feel like. And you would love to find out.

Wide-eyed, you coo, "That was a really good kiss."

Joel nods, brushing his thumb along his bottom lip. "Yeah, I wouldn't mind doing that again."

"Me either," you giggle, feeling bold, "and maybe more?"

Joel quickly grabs your hand, determination in his eyes, "Follow me."

--

There's no shortage of privacy in a house of this size. The large amount of guests allows you and Joel to sneak off unnoticed. With your hand in his, he pulls you behind him in search of a more conspicuous location. At the end of the hall, you spot an open door that leads to a beautifully appointed bathroom: marble countertops, travertine tile, and a glass-enclosed shower with a waterfall showerhead. Large mirrors with an intricately designed gold frame sit over each sink. This is just the guest bathroom?!

He whips you around to face him and pulls you in for a kiss, not chaste this time. This kiss is brimming with passion. A mix of tongues dancing around, exploring each other's mouths. Playful nibbles leave their marks on each other's lips.

Your palms flatten against his firm chest, and you grip the lapels of his shirt and yank it open. The top buttons fly across the counter's surface and bounce every which way—ping, ping, ting—until they land flat on the surface. Hiding your giggle behind your hand, you look up at Joel apologetically. "Hey! I liked this shirt!" he bemused.

You walk your fingers up his now bare sternum and pinch his chin mischievously. "Oops, my bad!"

"Oh, you're fucking trouble, aren't you?!"

"Only one way to find out," you tease.

"Oh, honey, you bet your sweet ass I will." His hands caress your waist and hips, enjoying the feel of the velvet over your soft curves. "But first, I want you to see how gorgeous you are." He kisses you before he turns you to face the mirror.

Joel stands tall behind you. His hands roam along your body when he captures your gaze. With pleading eyes, he asks, "Can I unwrap my gift now?"

You nod. He pulls down the neckline of your dress and frees your tits from the cups of your bra. You let out a small gasp. He looks at you in the mirror while he kneads them, tweaking your nipples between his thumb and index finger. He nuzzles into your neck and ascends with featherlight kisses to your earlobe, and whispers, "You're so fucking gorgeous."

With a gentle squeeze of your breasts, "gorgeous tits." His husky voice sends a shiver down your spine.

One of his hands moves down your body. His fingertips trail up the back of your bare thigh and underneath your skirt to your ass. A sly grin appears on his face when he doesn't feel any fabric impeding his exploration. You decided to wear a thong tonight to avoid panty lines with the way the fabric of the dress clings to your figure. With a firm squeeze of your bare cheek, "gorgeous ass."

You whimper at his attention and praise, overwhelmed by his adoration of your body. Both hands make their way to your neck, and he turns your face toward him, "gorgeous lips," and he devours you in a toe-curling kiss.

He hisses when your ass backs into him in response. His hardened cock straining the front of his jeans. You suck in your breath, apologetically, "I'm so sorry."

He chuckles, "It's ok, baby." He brushes his lips over your nose and tilts back with a glint in his eye, "You can make it up to me."

You quirk your eyebrow, "oh yeah, how so?"

He doesn't answer you. Silently, he grips your hips to turn you back to face the mirror. He grabs your hands and places your palms flat on the cool marble. He watches your tits bounce in the mirror and feels his cock get impossibly harder. "Stay. Just like this."

You feel the arousal pool in your belly at his command. His hands travel down the sides of your thighs and up under the skirt of your dress. His fingers slip under the elastic band of your thong, and you hear the lace fabric rip.

He slides a calloused finger through your slick lips. A growl escapes him as he feels how wet you are. "This pussy's just drenched for me, isn't she?"

You whimper out a strangled "yes." Overwhelmed by the feel of his thick fingers through your folds, teasing your entrance and brushing against your clit.

Finally, he shows mercy and slides a finger inside you. You clench around his thick digit as he enters you to his last knuckle, his fingertip reaching that spongy spot just right, sending an intense wave of pleasure through your body.

He leans forward, his whole chest pressed against your back. The heat from his body envelopes you. His husky voice vibrates in your ear, "Fucking dripping."

You groan when Joel pulls his finger out to taste you. "Such a sweet fucking pussy. I can't wait to make a whole meal out of her."

He breaches you again with two fingers, and you buck forward at the pleasurable stretch. He begins to thumb against your clit while his two fingers thrust inside you at a steady pace.

"Fuck. I can't wait to get you out of here. I want to take my time with you. The things I want to do."

"Tell…" breathless, "…me."

"I want to eat your pussy until your legs shake." he continues his exploration of your cunt. "Suck on your perfect tits. Fold you in half while I fuck into you until you scream my name."

"Yes, fuck…Joel, I want all of that." Your imagination is running wild at his ideas, the tension is building, and you're ready to snap.

"You'll get it, but I need you to come for me, darlin'." Desperation in his voice, "My cock needs to be inside this perfect pussy."

His words were all you needed to push you over the edge. You brace yourself on the counter as your orgasm moves through you, your walls fluttering around his fingers.

As you come down from your high, Joel quickly unfastens his jeans and lowers them along with his boxer briefs, releasing his throbbing cock. You feel his length bop against your ass. His fingers run through your pussy to coat his dick with your arousal. He lazily strokes his dick while bunching up the skirt of your dress over your waist with his other hand.

His palm runs over your bare ass cheek and slowly navigates your curves to your other cheek. You whimper when he pulls his palm away, already missing the warmth of his skin against yours. The unexpected strike of his palm causes you to jolt forward with a whine.

"Fuck! This is a juicy ass," he growls as his fingers dig into your flesh.

"Do it again. Harder." you pant.

You catch his devilish grin in the mirror as he lifts his arm with a flattened palm. The din of the party muffles the sound of it moving through the air before it lands on your other cheek. Harder. Just like you asked. You feel another wave of arousal rush through you.

"Oh, baby. We're going to have so much fun."

Joel takes his cock and runs the tip through your folds, You haven't seen it, but you can feel it's big as he teases your entrance with just the tip. Your mouth begins to water as you fantasize about taking him between your lips, the heavy weight of it on your tongue as you take him down your throat.

You're so distracted by the thought of choking on his dick that you yelp in surprise when his cock enters you with a forceful thrust; his pelvis slams into your luscious cheeks.

"Oh, she's fucking…" Joel pants, "she's fucking, tight."

He begins a steady pace of fucking you. His hands gripping your hips, fingertips digging in with a bruising force.

He reaches around your waist to rub your clit while he continues a relentless pace. Your walls clenching around him. Breaths increase, and your chest is slick with sweat. His thrusts push you into the counter, driving into you while he rubs your clit. The marble cooling your heated chest. "C'mon, baby. I feel you squeezing me. Let go for me."

You wail out his name as your climax takes hold. He pulls you up against his chest, his hand cupping your breast as he fucks you through your orgasm. Hot breath against your ear as he seeks his release. You wrap your hand around his neck and pull his head toward you. Your lips brush against his ear, and with a whisper, eyes fixed on him in the mirror so you can see his reaction, "Fill me up. I want to feel you dripping out of me."

Joel whimpers. He fucking, whimpers. He's at the precipice of his orgasm and grasps onto your tit tighter. You squeak at the pressure. One. Two. Three more thrusts before he spills into you, drenching your pussy with his seed.

His forehead collapses onto the back of your shoulder; his labored breathing begins to even out. When he looks up, your eyes meet his in the mirror. You both are completely fucked out. Half dressed, tits hanging out, disheveled hair, smeared lipstick. He leans back to get a good look at his spend leaking from your pussy. A boyish grin expands on his face into a toothy smile as he pushes his cum back inside with his finger. "Gotta keep my gift wrapped up."

You roll your eyes and laugh.

Joel grabs a clean washcloth from the towel bar and runs it under warm water. He gently runs the damp cloth over your inner thighs and sensitive folds, cleaning himself before tossing the washcloth in the hamper.

You notice it's after midnight, and you'll need to get home soon—even though you don't want the night to end. You both scramble to dress. Joel stops short when he realizes he can't button his shirt back up all the way. He looks around to find the loose buttons on the counter and pockets them. Softly, you brush his forearm and coo, "I can sew those back on for you."

He winks and kisses the tip of your nose. "Worth it."

--

You accept Joel's offer to walk you to your car, but not before you say your goodbyes. The two of you part to find Lucilla and Marcus to thank them for the party.

When you find Joel again, he guides you toward the door, holding his gift in one hand and the other against the small of your back. He leans toward your ear and teases, "We'll need to discuss visitation arrangements." shaking the figurine in the air.

You playfully swat his chest at his teasing.

You and Joel are unaware that Marcus and Lucilla are watching this exchange from afar. Lucilla turns to Marcus and wonders, "Now, why didn't we think to set those two up? They're perfect together."

"It doesn't look like they needed our help anyway." Marcus wraps his arm around his wife and kisses her temple. "Another successful holiday party, my lady."

Lucilla rests her head on his shoulder and lets out an exhausted but contented sigh. "Until next year, my love."

--

Thank you so much for reading! I'd love to know what you think. Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated. 🫶🏻

I've got an idea brewing to revisit these two (four)...if I get a wild hair, I may take a swing at it. 😏

npt for folks who were interested in this WIP: @baronessvonglitter @kilamonster @half-moon16 @peepawispunk

[todofics]

Off The Market | 1/6 | Todoroki Shoto x Reader

♡ Summary: The Todoroki name had always borne a heavyweight amongst even society’s finest. When the family’s youngest son, and heir to the title, is forced into the marriage market, it’s no surprise that he quickly becomes the season’s most eligible bachelor—hoping to avoid marriage for at least one more season, who better than to circumvent the ton other than his long-time friend, you? 

♡ Content: regency au, fake-dating trope, aged-up characters, age gap (4 years), mutual pining, fem reader, fem pronouns, mature content in future chapters

♡  Author notes: I recently watched Bridgerton and fell in LOVE with it. Who can blame me though? Nicola Coughlan, you have my heart. Anyway, this is my little love letter to that obsession! 

♡ 1.6k words/est. 15k words (chapter ⅙)ˋ°•*⁀➷ Main Masterlist ♡  MHA Masterlist ♡ Story Masterlist ♡ Next

Crystal chandeliers hung like constellations in the night sky, their scattering prisms causing the ballroom to glitter softly in its wake. As the rhythmic thuds of dance and orchestra filled the air, chatter flitted in the background. 

“Did you hear?” the Viscountess Ashido asked in a hushed tone, cheeks flushed a brilliant pink as she swirled her glass of wine. Despite it only being the first ball of the season, gossip spread like wildfire. The attention of the small group turned towards her as she continued to speak, “I hear Lord Todoroki is finally seeking to make a match.”

As you sipped on your lemonade, your ears perked at the sound of your best friend’s name. Shoto? Married? The thought made you snort internally. He never mentioned the prospect of marriage in their years of friendship - let alone in the last few months. If they truly knew the man, they’d understand that Shoto had always disdained society and its many traditions - offering himself out on the marriage market was simply… out of character. Then again, these rumors had been circulating every season since the man turned 22 (the year of your debut). It was a piece of gossip that was always best to ignore lest the man announce it himself. 

Still, even though most knew that rumors spread amongst the ton were often baseless (especially at an event this early into the season), those words always held particular weight. Even at a young age, Lord Todoroki always possessed an alluring sort of charm. From his dual-toned hair to his mysterious demeanor, Shoto’s presence commanded attention far before he stepped into society. Now, at 26, he had long lost all of his boyish features, his physique sharp and gaze undeniably melting. Somehow, with time, the already attractive boy only grew impossibly more magnetic. This, paired with his future inheritance of the Duke title, seemed to establish Shoto as the most eligible bachelor of each season - even if he was never officially on the market. 

“The Lord’s been ‘searching’ for a wife for four seasons now,” Lady Uraraka mentioned, not so swayed by the conversation. Her intentions had already long been set on the green-haired baron anyway. 

“I’ve heard nothing on the matter either,” you added, causing a few of your fellow debutantes to groan. If anyone were to know if Shoto was searching for a wife, surely it’d be you. 

The two of you had always been a rather interesting pair in the tons’ eyes. Having been friends since your younger years, they had assumed the year of your debut would lead to a proper courting from the male. However, each passing season made it evident that such a thing was far from reality. You and Shoto simply possessed a strong bond of friendship - something that both confused and delighted the debutantes as you settled on the outskirts of their group.

“No! This time, I hear it from the Duchess herself. The Duke intends to make arrangements unless Lord Todoroki makes his match this season,” Mina defended, adding more fuel to the fire. Duchess Todoroki herself had been speaking about it? 

After many social seasons spent in the countryside due to a proclaimed illness, the Duchess had only recently reappeared in court last year. This, of course, reignited old gossip surrounding her disappearance. After all, her first year gone coincided with the mysterious appearance of Lord Shoto’s now-defining mark. Thus, it was well-known by now that the Duchess kept to herself, her demeanor proving itself too delicate to get involved in spreading falsehoods. 

A frown etched across your face as you listened to the cheery pink-skinned debutante. Duchess Todoroki would never speak about such a thing unless it were true. While you knew Shoto was probably against the idea himself, a feeling of hurt still sank in your stomach as you wondered why the boy hadn’t told you. You considered him your best friend - and honestly, you thought he considered you his. Secrets like this ought to be shared.

Like wolves smelling fresh meat, mothers encouraged their daughters to accentuate their best features, readjusting their clothes and hair to make a good impression. Some of the more eager debutantes forewent this step, keen to catch the eye of the young Lord. They would stop at nothing to gain the upper hand, longing to become the center of his prospects. 

Suddenly, the room felt much too small, the heat sweltering as you excused yourself from the desperate group. You’d speak to Shoto later about his soon-to-be marriage.  Gliding across the room briskly, you quickly found the balcony door, stepping out and admiring the fleeting beauty of the garden below. The fresh air felt nice against your skin, the cooling sensation calming down the warmth in your cheeks. For now, all you needed to do was gather your senses - relax. Fanning yourself with fervor, your thoughts settled under the pale gleam of moonlight; eyes glazed over with careful consideration.

The sentiments that swirled within you made for great confusion. Irritation and… envy? Sure, the feelings of irritation were a given, but not once had you ever felt actual jealousy towards the man. Although you had always known Shoto to be an attractive man who would eventually marry, the thought of that happening so soon bothered you. You had grown used to the man’s constant presence in your life for years. With marriage on the horizon, that familiarity would simply have to die off - no bride-to-be would allow the future Duke to have such a close friendship with another woman.

Honestly, the situation was quite unfair. At your debut, speculations surrounding your relationship with the man had just about killed off any potential interest. Now, four seasons into your venture into the marriage market, your prospects had only grown slimmer. It rattled you that Shoto was seemingly leaving you behind. You clicked your tongue, attempting to snap out of the annoyed daze you were in. Unfortunately, this was just the reality of society. You’d simply have to succumb to your fate of loneliness. Maybe being a spinster won’t be so bad. 

Your thoughts were soon interrupted as the balcony door swung open, your gaze shooting back to see who it could be. “Found you,” Shoto flashed you a soft smile, his posture slightly hunched as he approached. It was clear that the advances of the debutantes had worn him out. He let the door shut behind him, opting to stand directly next to you despite the plethora of room the spacious balcony offered. 

“Lord Todoroki,” you replied, turning your attention to the glittering night sky. It was strange - that name felt so foreign coming from your lips. 

He frowned, “you know better than to call me that.” Shoto had always insisted on you calling him by his first name, and for the last few years,  you had relented (something you regretted now as his expression conveyed one of hurt). Still, you powered on, steeling your resolve. It would be best to distance yourself from the man now. 

With a soft laugh, you tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “I should get used to it - your future bride might not take so kindly to another woman calling your name.” His eyes widened briefly, hands clenched as he cleared his throat. Despite being outside, the air grew stiff, the tension so palpable you could cut it with a knife. 

 “That,” he paused, attempting to gather his thoughts, “is what I came out here to discuss.” Shoto’s social skills were mediocre at best, his awkward demeanor shining through the seriousness of his tone. You raised a brow, curious of what the man could possibly say.

“To discuss? You came out here to discuss your marriage prospects?” you asked with an incredulous tone, waiting for the man to get straight to the point. He shifted awkwardly, not used to receiving any sentiments of bitterness from your end. “You should have warned me.” 

Shoto shot you an apologetic look, “I… I was not aware myself until a fortnight ago,” he murmured. The situation pained him as well - despite his rapid approach to the average age of marriage, he still didn’t feel quite ready. “A fortnight? You should have written. That isn’t information you keep from your friends.” 

“I know,” Shoto acknowledged, taking a deep breath as he prepared himself for the spades of anger you were sure to cast. Instead, however, you surprised him. He should’ve known by now that he could never predict your actions.

“It’s fine.”

You had always been quite the firecracker -  your passion and zeal for life unmistakable. It was something Shoto had always admired about you; your enthusiasm balanced out his serious demeanor, allowing for a sort of yin-and-yang relationship. This relaxed response was unlike the you he had grown to know. 

“I am sorry,” Shoto said, mustering up every ounce of sincerity in his body. You sighed, unable to stay mad at the man for long, the years of friendship preparing you for his aloofness regarding social situations. “Really, I promise you it’s fine, let us move on from this topic,” you reassured. The thought of Shoto’s marriage prospects made you uncomfortable enough - it wasn’t something you particularly cared to converse about. 

Before he could let the topic change, Shoto turned to face you, his hands gently grasping your smaller ones as your jaw dropped in surprise. “Just… one more thing,” he started, voice wavering with nerves. 

“Allow me to court you.”

[everything-fine-n-peachy]

two sides, same coin (n.jm)

pairing: na jeamin x reader genre: eldest/only daughter angst, fluff, strangers to whatever this is summary: y/n's one duty in life is to look out for others. romance who? however, jaemin comes along and maybe he can change her mind. alternatively, prom committee love story

Jaemin is the date-to-marry type. His friends call him grandpa for it but he doesn’t care, not even a little. No, Na Jaemin knew that the love he wanted was the kind that meant family heirlooms, photo albums of embarrassing baby pictures, and sharing warm coffee the morning after crying the whole night. He wanted the handholding and cuddles but only if it would include all the booboos in between that life inflicted. 

Don’t ask him why. He just knows. 

The thing is, despite everything Jaemin was such a hopeless romantic. Everyone would tell him to “just pick a girl” and while he’s happy for his couple friends, Jaemin just likes to march to the beat of his own drum. 

You, on the other hand, are the only daughter in an Asian household, your father is the dean, and everyone down to the school janitor knows you. That in itself was a sure fire guarantee that you could never entertain boys romantically, let alone find a boyfriend in high school. So you’re resigned not to. Love was way too complicated anyway. Besides, you had student council and prom wasn’t going to plan itself. 

But did you feel tired sometimes? No doubt. 

While there was a lot of love to go around, there were also a lot of responsibilities and a shit ton of expectations. On some days you just needed a break. Which is why even if you felt shy to admit it, you found Jaemin the most charming member of the prom committee. 

Jaemin didn’t exactly plan on signing up. However, he would much rather spend his time volunteering for something that was purposeful than get stuck being buggered on about why he still didn’t have a girlfriend. You, on the other hand, pretty much inherited the role of prom committee head, as did all senior student representatives every year. 

You didn’t intend to get close to Jaemin. Yes, you knew each other for your entire lives since elementary but you weren’t exactly from the same circles. But it just kind of happened. Prom was fast approaching, you liked to be precise in your work and Jaemin had a penchant nosing around. 

“If you need anything, you shouldn’t be afraid to ask,” he emphasized as he carefully placed a bandage on your finger. It was only a papercut but Jaemin insisted you sit down and take a break from sorting all the documents needed for prom. 

You shrugged, “Deadline is tomorrow morning.” You weren’t exaggerating but you didn’t make the rules and if those papers weren’t on the principal’s desk by 7 am, simply put, there would be no prom. 

Understanding flickered in his eyes as he smoothed the bandaid over your finger gently. He’d found you all alone way past school hours in a frenzy of folders and decided no one deserved to die by papercuts all alone.  

This wasn’t the first time this happened. In the course of the last few weeks, you’d eagerly scheduled meetings and town halls with the graduating class all in an effort to give everyone the prom they deserved. However, this had meant you skipped meals and went home late most of the time.

“This is way too much work for you,” he said as he started rummaging through his school bag. “This is the reason we have a committee.” 

The concern was highly appreciated but then again, who else was going to do the work if not you? “Jeamin, as much as I agree with you the reality is every senior is swamped with final requirements and-” 

“And you aren’t a senior?” he interrupted with an unimpressed expression. 

“I can handle the stress better than most,” you argued. 

“Yeah, clearly,” he snorted, which made you frown in his direction. 

Wordlessly, he offered you a brown paper bag. A smile creeps up on your face. If he was going to keep this up, someone’s heart was definitely going to be in trouble. 

“Let me guess, you accidentally ordered an extra meal, again?” 

Jaemin beamed, ”quite the opposite.” He cleared some space on the desk and gestured for you to sit across. 

You humor him and peer into the bag, chuckling, “this time it’s a whole lunchbox?” 

“I intentionally ordered two because I knew you would never listen to me.” 

You open the lunch box and feel pleasantly surprised that the food is quite warm. Your last meal was lunch and that felt like ages ago. “Thanks for looking out for me, you really didn’t have to,” you say. 

“What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t look out for you?” He pauses, and for a moment you feel like he’s looking straight into your soul. 

Hearing Jaemin call you a friend struck a chord in that if you were being honest, you haven’t really felt like you had any friends since senior year started. You haven’t had company like this in a while. Sure you had your best friends but they were busy trying to survive. You still had the occasional breakdown here and there, but more often than not, you knew how to handle yourself. There wasn’t much of a choice anyway. You didn’t want to blame your friends for needing more support than yourself, so you power through; just doing what needs to be done. 

Comfortable silence fills the room as you both eat thoughtfully. You appreciate the stillness and bask in the company of Jaemin. You think, better make the best of it while it lasts, right? 

A thought stirs in your mind and you’re compelled to satisfy your curiosity. “Jaemin? Why the prom committee?” 

“Why not? He grins. You laugh at his response, mentally slapping yourself because you actually anticipated this sort of crap from Jaemin. 

“Okay let me rephrase that,” you continue, “Is there any reason you chose to join prom committee?” 

He drops his form into the now empty lunchbox, appearing to give his answer some thought, “Well, when I asked the upperclassmen last year they said tickets would be discounted for committee members.” 

You nod thoughtfully, admiring his practical mindset. 

“But if you want the real answer, it’s because I felt like being a part of something we could all look back on,” he answered. 

You can’t help but smile at him, at his genuineness. Something about how open he was despite having spent only a month in each other’s company has your heart feeling a certain way. 

“And you, why student council for four straight years?” he asks with a quizzical expression. 

Your fingers trace the wood grains as you rack your brain for an answer. An acceptable answer would be, that you "cared a lot" or that you "want to make a difference". But instead, you gravitate towards something you don’t exactly want to admit, “I just, don’t want to think.” 

Jaemin bursts out laughing. “You’re saying that when you’re obviously doing all the heavy brainwork here?” 

“But that’s all it is, work,” you quip back. “When it’s work I know what to do. But with everything else?” 

The way your expression shifts is unmistakable for Jaemin. Doubt is not something he’s accustomed to when it comes to you. Yet, something about your vulnerability compels him to push farther. 

“Do you ever feel like people have a certain idea of what you need to be doing, anything outside of that is sort of like a crime?” He asks. 

You nod slowly in agreement, “Like ‘hey, since you’ve proven that you’re great at this, only ever be great at this. Don’t ask for help cause everyone is too busy. But also, you’re such a workaholic’.” Your words spill out faster than you can think. 

He hums in agreement allowing you to continue. “Everyone thinks they know what’s best for you but none of them actually offer any useful help,” you croak out. 

It’s quiet for a while before Jaemin breaks the silence, “Can I be really honest this time?” 

You raise an eyebrow at the interjection, “weren’t you being honest a while ago?”  

He ignores your comment and instead laughs it off. “What I wanted to say was, listening to you made something click,” he said leaning forward so his hands rested on the table. “I joined the prom committee to look for friends,” he said, pausing only to get a glimpse of your confused expression. 

“I know it sounds crazy but you aren’t the only one who feels alone,” he confesses.

“Everyone has this certain expectation that because I like to help out a lot, because I love love, that I’m not capable of feeling sad, but I am.” 

“You love, love?” you ask skeptically. 

“Was that the only thing you heard?” he asks, throwing his hands up. 

You don’t know why but you find it in your heart to giggle. “I didn’t know you were such a sap.” 

“Am not!” He counters. “I just have specific beliefs when it comes to love.” 

“And that is?” 

“That it’s supposed to be special, nothing rushed, never forced,” he explains. “It’s something that feels more warm and steady than jittery, if you know what I mean?” 

If Jaemin didn’t already fascinate you then, well he sure did now. You don’t know how the boy who liked to keep to his own business managed to conjure such deep thoughts. You find yourself nodding along. 

“I can respect that, I guess,” you finally say after some time. Sensing the time, you finally stand up to tidy the place and get back to work. 

“Thanks for being good company,” Jaemin suddenly says as he assists you in throwing the empty takeout bags in the bin. 

“You aren’t so bad yourself,” you reply. 

Jaemin thinks a lot while the two of you work. He thinks about the easy grace that you exude vis a vis being comfortable with vulnerability. And he thinks you’d battle him out for this, but he sure as hell didn’t believe that you were as cut-throat about life as your own friends labeled you. If any, he’d sure as hell vouch that you were a softie at heart. 

“Don’t skip meals,” he called out as the two of you parted ways later that evening. And you definitely wouldn’t be skipping any meals for the weeks to come. Not on Jaemin’s watch, anyway.

[artytaeh]

for those who read a little of my panicking about how huge the original lorenzo berkshire headcanons post was— here it is: random hcs + lorenzo as your boyfriend.

this man is so carmen - lana del rey coded. i can't say if i love lorenzo berkshire or not, help.

(l.b.) RANDOM HEADCANONS :

⭑ a big fan of herbology. to avoid some stupid comments, lorenzo insists that it's out of fascination for dangerous plants, like the devil's snare (enzo thinks that they're disgusting); in reality, lorenzo really likes to see different flora, being knowledgeable of the romantic language of flowers. one of his favorite plants are the ones meant to be pleasant and pretty.

⭑ so petty. if lorenzo has some nemesis or a rivalry, he would be try to mess up the guy's relationship, by convincing his girlfriend to cheat with enzo. prefers to punch someone emotionally rather than a physical scar.

⭑ if he has a rival that happens to be a girl, well, lorenzo finds it somewhat attractive to banter with someone. might be a one-sided rivalry, since the girl might genuinely mean those comments, while lorenzo is trying to flirt with her and get an angry make out session.

⭑ the biggest gossiper around school. as i've said before, lorenzo knows all versions of the story; might be the type of person who's a friend to all, friend to none (the slytherin boys are an exception). if you want to know something, you'll go to lorenzo berkshire. if he doesn't know, he'll know by the end of the afternoon.

⭑ became a prefect during his sixth year, because he hated umbridge with a burning passion— even though he put on a polite smile to keep himself away from umbridge's radar. even though he was offered the position of prefect at fifth year, and even had some slytherins trying to convince him to accept, lorenzo only took that place as soon as umbridge was gone.

⭑ the biggest fred and george weasley's fan. always had an eye out to testify their pranks, and gave side-eyes to draco whenever he was rude to the twins. their biggest defender, and a bit embarrassing whenever he tried to speak to those 'gryffindor legends', as he calls them.

⭑ became more of a fanboy during his fifth year, and didn't shut up about the twins until the end of the year, praising them for the chaos they created before running away from hogwarts. lorenzo is telling this story to his kids, i promise you that.

⭑ would genuinely try to become friends with his friends' girlfriends— if theodore brought his girlfriend to hang out with their group, lorenzo (and blaise) would be the first one to welcome her into the group. he sympathizes that new groups can be scary.

⭑ attends to every party, nevermind the house hosting it; as a slytherin he'll always claim that the snakes throw the best ones, even though he really likes hufflepuff's ambience. lorenzo stopped going to gryffindor parties as soon as the weasley twins left hogwarts; lorenzo tolerates any kind of music, but fuck, gryffindor makes his ears bleed out.

⭑ isn't that competitive with quidditch matches; if anything, lorenzo is the wise voice that keeps mattheo from hitting his bat straight to another player's skull. instead of being furious that slytherin lost, lorenzo has the tendency to blame himself.

⭑ could and would enter a fight if necessary. one of lorenzo's reasons to swallow his temper (in front of everyone, at least) is to keep his reputation; the other one is to keep his handsome face intact of cuts and bruises.

⭑ frequently excuses his worst actions by convincing himself that he'll change for the better, as soon as he meets the one. lorenzo would never hurt someone that badly — (maybe he's just as selfish as his mother, bellatrix lestrange, inheriting her tendency to abandon everything to pursue her own happiness. as soon as they she feels fulfilled, who cares if others get hurt?) — right? all of his bad habits, all of the things he's done; it will all be gone as soon as he's with her.

and since we're mentioning the one, lorenzo grows anxious in relationships; he contemplates whether this girl is his true match, and becomes paranoid that he's wasting his time on her, instead of the girl meant for him. to decide, lorenzo usually does a list of pros and cons about this recent fling— he'll decide to give it a week or longer than that, after considering what he wrote.

⭑ criminally pretty. the slytherin boys made a scientific study about this infuriating talent of berkshire's heir: managing to look good in any. possible. photo. no matter if lorenzo tries to look silly— he ends up looking good. so unbothered if people take photos of him or keep silly ones; enzo knows that he looks good.

⭑ 'liquid smooth - mitski' vibes. lorenzo was born to be pretty— if he's no longer pretty, if he's not stunning, or not feeling like himself that day, he will have a breakdown and throw some things around the room. for all his masks, lorenzo wonders if the only genuinely good thing about him is his appearance— if he loses it too, what will be of him, with nothing else to love about lorenzo berkshire?

⭑ so unlucky with animals— care of magical creatures isn't the best subject for him, since they seem to smell lorenzo's bullshit miles away. there was this one ravenclaw's cat that almost clawed at his cheek, when he tried to kiss his owner... well. as much as lorenzo tries to win them over, cats give him a specially hard time.

⭑ that being said, lorenzo only has an owl as a pet, specifically to be able to send letters. even so, lorenzo makes sure that she (he named her artemis) is well groomed and taken care of. he always has treats for artemis back on his dorm room, to reward her hard work.

⭑ one of his hobbies is exploring muggle london, and other cities mainly occupied by muggles. lorenzo genuinely believes that the wizardy world is much more interesting, however, he likes to experience muggleborn's life as well— lorenzo is genuinely interested on their method of living.

⭑ his favorite places at hogsmeade are honeyduke's and zonko's; there is yet to be a hogsmeade trip where lorenzo doesn't bring some honeyduke's treats with him— he usually brings extra for his friends, if he notices that one of them is having a hard time.

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

(n.) L. BERSKHIRE : as your boyfriend :

this man has experience and a big heart that wants to love, fueled by his (sometimes, extreme) expectations of falling in love.

gives gifts 'just because'; the berkshire family is wealthy, and lorenzo genuinely never had to look at a price tag before; he'll do it even less for the sake of your smile.

however, lorenzo finds more value in handmade gifts, perceiving them as having more emotional value and effort, than something bought at a store. in random days, he'll gift you something that reminded him of you— in special dates, like month anniversaries or your birthday, lorenzo will work on handmade gifts.

some examples are: love letters, bracelets that he got younger years teaching him how to make, photo albums of the two of you, etc.

would have matching plushies with you, though. lorenzo would try to find little outfits for them, specially wedding themed ones; if you happen to be upset with lorenzo, he'll take his plushie to your dorm, and put the two of them on top of your bed, ''kissing.''

not the type of guy that would yell and start a brawl, should someone flirt with you in front of him. lorenzo will open a smile, and say: 'i know, right? my girl is so attractive.' in a way that might leave the other guy embarrassed.

... the thing is, as soon as you're back to your dorm room, and lorenzo catches him alone— mysteriously, it seems like he was a bit unlucky. infirmary wing, unable to go to classes? lorenzo wonders what happened to him. specially because the guy wouldn't be an idiot to land lorenzo in detention, much less try his luck with you.

loud lover that feels no shame about his relationship with you. lorenzo is a romantic person, treating you how he seeks to receive the same treatment from you: he wants you to be a proud girlfriend, the same way he is, showing off his beloved, letting the whole school (and even scotland) know that you're his.

is very attentive about dates. lorenzo knows that life as student of hogwarts is never uneventful, and that your responsibilities grow with age. even so, lorenzo makes sure that you two have a full-on date, with dressing up + planned out activity, at least three times per month. it's a sacred rule to him, that allows your relationship to remain romantic and interesting for both of you.

some of the petnames that i see lorenzo using for his loved one are: sunshine, sweetheart, angel, pretty girl. only ever uses your name when it's a serious conversation or an argument.

heavy gossiper. so mean about it too— would laugh at other people's unfortunes then make a serious face and nod as soon as you reprimand him. he's still laughing inside. as soon as he gets new source of gossip, lorenzo is running to find you.

study dates don't work with the two of you. if he gets a glimpse of you, lorenzo gives up on reading whatever annotations to look at you with heart eyes.

if there's someone you don't like, lorenzo will probably find some bad stuff about that person— just in case, you know? if there's ever an argument between you and them, you already have ammunition to strike them with! lowkey loves badmouthing other people with you. it's his favorite thing to do.

has so many friends that are girls, however, doesn't give them any chance; lorenzo is aware of his reputation and that his many flings might leave you insecure. would genuinely distance himself from a girl for the sake of your relationship with him, or change his behavior near her.

gets nervous when you watch his quidditch practices; lorenzo finds it harder to focus on defending quaffles, knowing that you're there to watch him. will ask you what you thought about the practice— discreetly fishes for some praises here and there.

whenever there are slytherin matches that he plays as a keeper, lorenzo and you will match outfits; it doesn't matter if you're not a slytherin, you will wear slytherin's colors on that day, with lorenzo's jumper on your body and his surname, berkshire, written on your back.

speaking of matching outfits: loves to match with you, or at least wear the same palettes, at least whenever the two of you go for a date together. it's a simple yet cute way to show that hey! we're together! and a happy fashionable couple!

a really good person to go shopping with. not only does he cover any cost without looking at the price tag (lorenzo doesn't want you to spend your own money, since there's no reason to) but he's really good at giving opinions. as i said before, this man dresses so well, so he has a good sense of fashion and an instinct over what works, and doesn't work. what colors favor you, and others that don't you justice.

if you're cold, and it happens to be a chilly weather outside, instead of giving you his warm clothes for the rest of the date, lorenzo will temporarily give you his coat and seek for any clothing store to buy you something warm.

l : sunshine, are you cold? come on, let's buy you a pretty coat. warmer, preferably.

🗯️ : can i choose a scarf for you?

l : of course, sweetheart. let's see if we can find a scarf that matches this new coat of yours.

this becomes a fun game; if one of you buys something, then you'll get something matching for the other. not only does it had to your collection of couple-matching-clothes, but also feeds his large wardrobe. dating lorenzo berkshire comes with extra luggage to pack new clothes, i promise you.

so patient when you're getting ready. lorenzo doesn't mind waiting longer until you're satisfied with your outfit— he knows the struggle, believe me. will help you and give you some opinions (if, and only if you ask.), not wanting you to stress over not feeling pretty enough. even if you had specific hours to leave the castle, enzo knows that any reservation can be postponed, so there's no stress on his part.

passive-aggressive. you know the term, right? unfortunately this is how conflict starts on your relationship; something deeply bothers lorenzo, he gatekeeps it to had some bitterness to his heart, then verbalizes that something is wrong by an unrelated comment.

has a hard time understanding when he's in the wrong, even though he will gladly apologize first to be in good terms with you — even if lorenzo isn't truly apologetic. he priorizes a good ambience in your relationship, than having the world knowing that he won a stupid argument.

kisses you silly. this man is so affectionate; sometimes you're just talking about whatever, and lorenzo will dissociate as he looks at you, cupping your face before peppering many kisses to you cheeks, nose, jaw, chin, lips— anywhere.

lorenzo prefers slow kisses, enjoying the moment without a rush, teasing you by giving you some glances and breaking off the kiss to smile, before tempting your lower lip. couldn't care less if it's in the middle of a hallway, or behind a tree in the courtyard— let people see that you're two teenagers in love!

speaking of physical contact: lorenzo is a bit picky over who touches his hair (he spends a stupid amount of time to make sure that it looks pretty), but loves it when you fix his hair for him. doesn't mind it if you twirl his hair between your fingers, he thinks that's sweet.

loves to hold hands, yet you'll find him walking around with his arm around your shoulders more frequently. also likes to have you sat on his lap, rests his chin on your shoulder and will have you there, even when he's spending time / chatting with his slytherin friends.

if someone's hostile with you, you have five counted seconds to defend yourself before lorenzo jumps to your defense. did someone point out an insecurity of yours? lorenzo is making a nonstop list of things that that person should be insecure about. won't apologize either— they're the one who started!

loves cliches. if you don't know how to dance, lorenzo will teach you during some sleepover to his dorm; helps you learn the steps by having your feet on top of his own, arm around your waist, hand caressing yours as you two giggle and tease each other for your clumsy first try.

would be so pouty and even pushy, if you don't feel like going to parties with him. lorenzo adores going to those— genuinely because he has fun, nevermind how chaotic it can get. besides, he wants to brag about his girlfriend! :( might suggest that you're embarrassed of him, and that is the reason why you'd rather stay in your dorm. (dramatic much, berkshire?)

walks you to classes, only failing to do so if he has classes with professors like snape, on the other end of the castle. this man is punctual, leaving slytherin's dorms early to walk you to the great hall, having breakfast together without a hurry, then walking to class while holding hands. genuinely gets better scores in assignments of classes that you don't have together— he gets distracted if you're there!

now that we're mentioning cliches, there was this one time in october, that you decided to spend the afternoon in the library to study, since it was raining outside. lorenzo came to your side, closed your books and gently took them from your grasp— then, he tugged you to follow him, lifting you by the waist to get the two of you under the rain.

lorenzo spins you on his arms; now that both are soaked with the cold rain, he makes a curtsy, asking you to dance, 'would you conceed me the honor of dancing with you, my lady?' only to kiss your hand, before tugging you closer to him, being that sickeningly sweet couple that brings jealousy to others.

not to your surprise, some other pairs did join you in the courtyard, dancing and jumping over the wet floor.

to mcgonagall's disapproval, she had way too many students skipping next day's classes for being sick.

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

౨ৎ the boys, the girls, they all like ▉, he laughs ♡ ͡

like god, his mind's like a diamond, he's still shining . . .

🪻 ; . . . fandom : harry potter.

— lorenzo berkshire is a topic that has been on my drafts during these last days. general headcanons of lorenzo were supposed to be posted first, but i'm still working on them </3 so i plan to post it tomorrow. 🗯️ tysm for reading. ♡

the headers + gifs + icons aren't mine. credits to the respective creators ! 🌷

[ayyy-pee]

Discord 18+ - Twitter - Masterlist

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Female Reader

Story Summary: Following his mothers passing, Nanami inherits his family's rundown bakery. With the bakery on its last leg, Nanami reluctantly takes on the task of trying to save what his family has worked to keep for decades, but he can't do it alone.

Genre: Bakery/Coffee Shop AU

Warnings: Workaholic meanie Nanami, employee x boss relationship, but also enemies to lovers, death, grief/mourning, profanity, jealousy, fluff, angst, Nanami owns a bakery, parental loss, Nanami is bad at feelings, I don’t know if I’ll do smut for this one but sexual tension, mutual pining, Nanami is sort of an asshole here

Art by: Ilameys + (Unknown artist (right pic). I'd love to credit the artist so if you know who it is, please let me know!)

Chapter 2 - Wienerbrød

Chapter Summary: You try to bake something new!

You kick your shoes off as you enter your apartment. With your phone wedged between your ear and your shoulder, you groan in irritation as you storm into your living room.

“I’m telling you, Shoko. This guy is such a fucking asshole. Shut me down the second I asked him a simple question,” you’re ranting as you flop down onto your couch. “He’s got to be the most pessimistic person I’ve ever met. He did nothing but pick apart the entire bakery and tell me how shitty it was, tried to establish some strange dominance thing in the kitchen after offering me the job… the kitchen,” you stress dramatically, wavering your arms as if Shoko can see you. “My domain! Can you believe him? He doesn’t give a shit about the actual bakery. He’s a total businessman type. Stiff, boring as hell and a dick. I don’t know why I said yes to the position. I’m going to hate my life.”

You exhale sharply once you’ve finished your tirade. On the other end of the line, you hear your friend inhale deeply. You didn’t have to ask to know she was sucking on a cigarette, likely almost finished with it and prepping her second, maybe third. After a short beat of silence, you hear her exhale. “Hmm, is he hot at least?”

“Extremely,” you admit through gritted teeth, rubbing away the tension quickly forming between your brows. “That’s the worst part.”

You hate to think it, you loathe to admit it, but Nanami was so very fucking attractive, like stupid hot and it pissed you off! Those thick arms practically bulging through his dress shirt, those veins that exposed themselves and ran enticingly along his forearms when he rolled his sleeves up. His chiseled features, those sharp cheekbones, even his frown was attractive. And god, you didn’t even want to think about his waist. 

Anyone with eyes could see Nanami Kento was an insanely beautiful man, modelesque even. But it only served to piss you off more. His constant gloomy attitude was so off-putting, it almost took away from his beauty, like a rain cloud threatening to cover a blue sky.

“Anyway,” you sigh, putting a stop to your own thoughts as you stare up at the ceiling.  “That’s beside the point, Shoko. He’s an asshole, but it’s obvious he needs help to get his bakery up and running. I think it’s family owned. He told me that he grew up in the bakery. Seemed miserable about it, though.”

“Interesting,” Shoko manages, though she sounds rather disinterested. “Well if he had to pick anyone, he definitely hired the best person for the job. You’re annoyingly positive.”

“Okay, rude.”

“I just mean you’ll balance his negativity well. Just try not to let him walk all over you. You’ve worked with plenty of dickheads before. What’s one more?”

You hum, your mind already accepting your fate. “I guess you’re right.”

“You know I am. The guy clearly needs help and you love this kind of thing - taking something old, miserable and rundown and making it loveable again.”

You hum again, listening as Shoko blows out another breath of smoke. “And who knows? Maybe you’ll do the same for the bakery, too.”

“Right. Wait– what?”

“I gotta go. I’ll call you later.” She says, voice light with humor. The line goes dead and you roll your eyes at your friends comments as you let the day's events wash over you. Nanami said he wanted to sample some of your desserts on Monday and see some new recipes. You can do that.

The moment you’d stepped into the bakery’s kitchen, your mind raced with possibilities. You felt at home there. The kitchen felt like it had been loved, like it was properly used and cared for, albeit old and a little rundown. That was okay. It gave the kitchen personality and you loved that. You wanted to continue giving the kitchen the love it deserved.

Nanami told you he’d grown up in that kitchen, but he truly seemed to hate even being in the building. You tried to picture a chubby little blonde boy with his arms crossed and a scowl etched across his face standing in the kitchen covered in flour and icing. Adorable, but definitely not the man you’d met today. You wondered how it came to be that he now owned this bakery when he seemed to despise it.

And you wondered if there was a way to get him to learn to love it again.

You shake your head, pushing the thought away. It wasn’t your job to turn his frown upside down, so to speak. It was your job to make sure the bakery was successful as it’s Head Baker and that’s what you intended to do.

- - - - - -

The weekend came and went just as quickly and now you find yourself standing in the kitchen of the bakery with Nanami as the sun barely begins to rise over the city. You pile your notebooks onto the large metal table in the center of the room. Nanami reaches over, taking the notebook sitting atop the stack.

“Are these your recipes?” He asks, flipping through the pages.

“Yep. These are some pastries I created on a whim. I was thinking we could go through and select what you like, maybe tweak some so that they fit more of the vibe you’re going for with the bakery. Or are there any pastries you’d like to keep from the previous owner?” 

Nanami’s dark eyes shoot up from the notebook to look at you. You hold his gaze, trying to find anything behind those eyes aside from the clear hatred he holds for this bakery, but you don’t. It’s frustrating.

“No,” is all he says.

“Okay…well, we can start from scratch then. Let me know what you see that you may like.”

Nanami replies with something between a grunt and a hum. “I’ll review a few of these and will follow up. If you want to get comfortable and organize the kitchen to your liking, go ahead. Please try and have a sample pastry ready within the next few hours.”

He turns to go into his office without so much as a look back.

You sigh, trying to get used to this silence you were sure you’d be working in everyday whether Mr. Nanami was there or not. You couldn’t wait to establish a menu so you could bring staff on. At least then you wouldn’t feel so alone.

You wander through the kitchen with a notepad, looking through all of the smallwares and jotting down what you see in case you need to place an order. There seems to be many of the supplies you need here already and in good condition - spatulas, mixing bowls, flour sifters, icing tips. The bakeware also seems to be well supplied with an array of bread pans, muffin tins and cake pans. This place was fully stocked as far as you could tell. 

You shuffle over to where three mixer appliances sit on a counter against the wall, setting your notepad down to inspect them. They’re a little older, but they turn on and mix just fine. You’d bet they mixed better than some of the newer models. You decide you’ll keep them.

As you lean one of the mixers over to check its condition, you find a small booklet lying underneath the stand. You pick it up, gently setting the mixer back down before you open it to inspect it. It’s a tiny black leatherbound journal with very faded gold lettering in a language you definitely don’t know.

And you? Well, you’re nosey as hell, so you carefully peel back the cover, taking in the elegant writing etched onto the first page.

To my baby boy

There’s some strange writing scrawled beneath this in what looks like English letters. You can’t really tell, but it seems to be some message in whatever language this is. You turn a couple of pages and let your eyes roam over what’s written within. The rest of the pages you can read fairly easily as they’re in English. You can see immediately that these are recipes. The booklet is full of pastry dishes, both sweet and savory. They appear to be foreign pastries and you feel your heart race with excitement as you imagine making them because while you were adventurous with your baking, you’re positive you haven’t tried to make any of these. 

And Nanami did want to sample your baking, so why not give him something he’s not going to see in your portfolio?

Eagerly, you begin moving through the rest of the kitchen equipment, taking out what you need to begin.

- - - - - -

The kitchen is full with the smell of fresh dough baking. The quiet hum of the ovens working calms you as you sift through the recipe in the booklet you’d found earlier. You decided to make one of your original creations while also trying your hand at this new mystery pastry in case Mr. Nanami liked both…or one…or none. Shit, you didn’t want to imagine him not liking either.

You stare down at the ingredients already in the mixing machines.

“Alright. So, water, 2 large eggs, a teaspoon of salt, unsalted butter, active dry yeast…” You read through the remaining list of ingredients until you reach the end. “And now…flour?” You squint down at the notebook, the words scribbled messily on the paper, time having faded the ink. You can’t really make out the measurements written out. It looks like 2 ½ cups. You’ll try it and hey, if it doesn’t work, you’ll simply adjust the recipe to find the right mix. Easy.

Just as you’re sorting through the measuring cups, Nanami emerges from his office with your journals, mouth set in its usual hard line as he makes his way to you. He sets the books down, and you swear you see him inhale the sweet scent of the pastries currently baking in the oven before softly exhaling. You open your mouth to say something before quickly shutting it because he’s back to business in about .02 seconds. You really can’t read this guy, so you don’t try to. You redirect your focus back on to your task.

“These look good,” he tells you, his finger tapping on the book stacked on top. “I placed a post-it note on the recipes I think may work for the soft opening, but I’d like for you to make a sample of them beforehand. Maybe just a few a day.”

You nod, acknowledging his request but far too focused on scooping your guesstimate of flour. Nanami eyes you carefully, brown eyes staring as you carefully run your finger over the top of the flour. The excess falls carelessly onto the table and just before you pour it in, Nanami speaks, his voice halting your movements.

“What are you making now?”

“Hmm?” You ask, glancing over at him. “Oh, something called…” you peer down at the booklet, “Wee-ner-brod?” You’re one hundred percent positive you butchered that pronunciation, but how do you even pronounce ‘wienerbrød’? 

Clearly Nanami knows because he surprisingly lets out an amused chuckle before he asks, “Wienerbrød?” With what you assume is perfect pronunciation. And you’re not sure why, but the sound of his deep baritone laugh makes your stomach twist in a strangely pleasant way.

“Yes! That!” You point to Nanami with your free finger. “I’m making…” you stumble your way through the pronunciation again and get another small laugh from Mr. Nanami which makes your own lips curl up in a smile.

“I didn’t know you knew how to make Danish pastries.”

“I don’t, but you don’t learn without trying.”

“True. What step are you on now?” Nanami asks curiously, coming up to stand next to you. This close to him, you can truly see just how large he is. Not to mention, he smells incredible. You ignore the way the mix of the aroma of baked goods and his cologne almost makes your eyes want to roll back. You’d never smelled something so tantalizing before.

Nanami calls your name and you clear your throat, trying to re-focus.

“Oh, um…well I’ve added mostly everything and now I need to incorporate the flour - about 2 ½ cups.”

“Your calculation is off.” He affirms gently, eyeing the measuring cup in your hand.

You snort, “Are you suddenly an expert in Danish baking or something?”

“I can throw a few things together.” He says and you peek over to see him rolling the sleeves of his very nice (and probably very expensive) shirt up to his elbows. Your eyes roam over, drinking in the sight of those thick veins that you couldn’t get out of your head over the weekend protruding from his forearms, the way his muscles flex with the slightest movement and you wonder for a moment what it would be like to grab onto those arms while he –

“As I was saying,” Nanami’s quiet voice interrupts your reverie. “2 ½ cups is close, but you actually need 2 ¾ cups for this recipe.” He reaches in front of you to grab a ¾ measuring cup and again, you’re assaulted with the scent of his cologne. Your mind erupts with thoughts of nothing appropriate for an employee to be thinking about their boss, but you can’t help it!

You blame it on that damn smile of his and that laugh. It’s thrown you off of your game.

Nanami takes the measuring cup you’re holding and replaces it with another. “You also need to use your hands to mix this.”

You might faint.

“Is that…” you lick your lips, mouth suddenly feeling dry. “Is that completely necessary?”

Nanami slowly adds small amounts of flour into the mixer bowl while kneading with his other hand. “It’s time consuming, of course, but it allows for more control over the dough. You can feel the dough's texture…if it’s too dry or if it’s too wet. From there you can determine if more water or more flour is needed.” You watch as his brows furrow in concentration, a little surprised by his knowledge around dough. Though it shouldn’t be surprising given that he grew up in this very same bakery. Of course he’d know.

And once again, your stomach does somersaults.

Damnit, he was definitely going to need to stay out of the kitchen if you were going to stay employed here.

As Nanami continues working through the recipe, you chat idly about general things. He tells you a bit about his time as a businessman, but doesn’t elaborate on what exactly led him to own a bakery. And you tell him a bit about yourself, trying to keep the conversation light as this was the most you’d both interacted since your interview and you’re surprised by how well it’s going. You don’t want to ruin it by poking and prodding.

As the conversation goes on, you watch him very carefully as he works the dough, ignoring the way your heart races watching him do the very thing you do almost daily.

“The end result should be somewhat sticky,” he states.

And oh god, something was getting sticky alright…and it lay between your legs. Your eyes are glued to the bulging muscles of Nanami’s forearms working the flour into a thick doughy substance between his large, thick fingers. Your gaze moves up his stupidly sexy arms, to his biceps straining against his shirt and you imagine him flexing so hard, it rips to shreds, falling in tatters to the floor. The cartoonish image almost makes you want to laugh. And you would have if your eyes hadn’t continued their journey, higher to his tight shoulders moving in circles as he presses his palms into the dough. Higher to the tension in his jaw, the muscles rippling as he grits his teeth with focus. The kitchen suddenly feels unbearably hot and you’re not sure if it’s the ovens running causing the temperature to rise or the view in front of you.

Nanami had never mentioned he knew how to bake. But why would he? It was your job to know. You also never thought to ask after the sour note your interview ended on despite you still being offered the position. You could not stand him upon first meeting and now here you were practically drooling into this batter over how incredibly sexy he was when he was baking.

Nanami slowly pours flour in again as he kneads the dough with expert precision. The way he grips it in his hands, the way his fingers deftly sprinkle flour into the mix. You wonder what else those big hands can do.

The oven timer dings and you snap out of your lewd thoughts, pretty sure sweat is forming on your forehead from your fantasies. You spin around quickly to slide on oven mitts before you pull the pans from the oven. You’d chosen to make miniature fruit tarts with a vanilla pastry cream. A simple recipe, but absolutely to die for. Setting the tray down, you return to Nanami’s side just as he finishes kneading the dough.

And you try to hide the frown pulling at the corner of your lips when you realize you’d lost your perfect view.

He moves to the sink to wash the remaining dough from his hands, returning with plastic wrap to cover the mixing bowl. “I hope you weren’t planning on completing that today,” He says before turning to head toward the walk-in refrigerator. When he emerges, you shoot him a questioning look.

“I was going to let the dough rise for a few hours while I worked on some other things.”

He hums in acknowledgment, but shakes his head. “For this dough, you need to do a long rise for the best result. Overnight is best.”

“Okay, you’re the expert Danish pastry baker apparently,” you tease, earning you another small chuckle from him and you feel your face heat up at the sound.

What is with you today?

“How did you come up with the idea to make Wienerbrød anyway?” He questions suddenly. “Just seems a bit random given what recipes you’d given me to review.”

“Oh!” You rush back over to the mixers excitedly and grab the booklet, holding it up for Nanami to see, a wide grin on your face. “I found this under one of the mixers. It has some strange language I can’t read in the front of it…I’m assuming it’s Danish? But some delicious sounding recipes from what I could understand when I skimmed through. I decided this would be a good idea to take myself out of my comfort zone to try something new.”

Nanami takes a step forward, squinting hard at the little journal in your hands. Suddenly, his eyes widen slightly and he snatches the book from your hold. He opens it to the first page, where the foreign message is scrawled down before he snaps the book shut, his lips pursing in displeasure.

He pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs in clear irritation. “Next time you find something that is very clearly a personal belonging, please bring it to me before you take it upon yourself to poke through something that isn’t yours,” he snaps, his voice clipped.

The shift in tone takes you aback.

“Oh. I’m sorry, Mr. Nanami. It just seemed to belong to someone who knew their way around baking so I–”

“I didn’t ask for the reasoning behind your nosiness,” he cuts you off and you feel your own irritation begin to slowly rise. “Is this a habit of yours? Digging through people’s belongings and taking things that aren’t yours?”

You scoff, folding your arms across your chest defensively. “If you’d let me finish, I’m trying to apologize –”

“I don’t want an apology. I want you to show up here, bake and leave. Not spend your time digging through someone else’s belongings.”

You inhale sharply, trying to gather your thoughts. This conversation has taken an unpleasant turn and the last thing you want to do is have a blow up with your boss. You feel like you’ve actually made progress with him today and this feels like a setback waiting to happen.

“Again, Mr. Nanami, that wasn’t my intention. I just wanted to try something new. I had no idea this book…” you wave your hand in his direction. “...would be such a sore spot for you.”

At this, Nanami seems to bristle. “My sore spot,” he stresses the words, “is nosey employees who don’t just do the job I asked them to do. I asked you to make a sample pastry –”

“And I did,” you cut him off, gesturing to your tarts cooling on the table. “And I had enough time to try my hand at something new, which is why I wanted to try something new and present it to you.”

You sigh when Nanami meets your response with silence.

“What’s the issue here? You had no problem with helping me make this until you saw that book,” you say, pointing at the small black journal he holds. Your gazes lock in an intense staredown and even as Nanami annoys you, you can’t help but find his frustratingly pretty brown eyes completely mesmerizing. 

Ugh, stop.

“The issue,” Nanami stresses, “is you sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“Excuse me? It’s just a recipe book. Why are you so upset about it? Is it yours or something?”

“Again, poking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“Mr. Nanami, with all due…respect,” you grit out the last word because he was really starting to piss you off, “if we’re going to be working together as closely as we are, there needs to be some trust here. It’s just a recipe book. I apologize for overstepping, but you can tell me why referencing this book to make Weenerbrod is such a big deal.”

You could swear you see the ghost of a smile on his lips just before he rolls his eyes, correcting your pronunciation of the pastry again, just as he turns his back to you. “You are my employee, I am your employer and that’s it. My helping you to bake a simple bread does not make us friends. Please complete the sample pastries I requested of you and we can reconvene once they’re finished. End of discussion.”

Nanami heads to his office without another word, slamming the door behind him.

You can only watch him disappear from your sight, seething. Left standing in the kitchen alone after yet another faceoff with your new boss, you’re suddenly reminded of your earlier conversation with Shoko.

Just try not to let him walk all over you. You’ve worked with plenty of dickheads before. What’s one more?

You resist going after Nanami and giving him a piece of your mind, instead following his instructions to finish your samples. You won’t push him. Clearly that little book meant something to him and he had no intention of sharing. And he was right. It wasn’t your business to know…

…But you can’t help feeling upset that the light mood of earlier is now gone.

You sigh, ignoring the pit in your stomach as your anger begins to subside. Instead, you move to the walk in refrigerator, gathering the ingredients to make the vanilla cream for your tarts.

Your mind is still racing with the conversation that just took place even as you mix your ingredients and pack the cream into the icing decorating bags. You realize for the first time since meeting Nanami that he wasn’t only this stoic tyrant that enjoys barking orders. He was someone with interests, someone with depth, someone who clearly enjoyed the art of baking the same way you do. You saw the look in his eyes as he guided you through making this pastry. And while you’ve barely known Nanami, you’re familiar with the look on someone’s face when they’ve participated in their passion. He looked…happy. Clearly, there’s more to Nanami than you know.

More to him than what he was willing to show you. For now. 

You’re annoyingly positive.

Shoko’s words make you roll your eyes as they echo in her head. Because you know she’s right.

[aliteralchicken]

i had an idea for one of those Tim never joins the family aus but it involved two of my fav robin 1993 chracters Danny and Dana

Tim’s not Robin so his mom dies in Haiti as normal and his dad goes into a coma, but rather than living dies very shortly after

Three things happen that will become inportant later:

Dana was supposed to be Jacks physiotherapist before he passed away

she had registered to become an adoptive parent but, being so young, expected it to happen a few years down the line or get a much younger child

Tim is put with Dana, this is completely coincidental and unrelated to her would be connection to his dad

The Drakes company gets sold on and Tim will inherit this most of this money when he turns eighteen

Tim and Dana get along great as per canon but Tim does eventually end up going to boarding school, Brentwood academy, and there meeting Danny temple

because he’s not Robin in this timeline things go a little differently, Danny goes back to finish school with Tim before joining the cult of the cobra as a leader officially, and Tim goes with him

Tim moves in with the cult because he and Danny fell in love at high school, cult and homophobia be damned and move in together at a cult base, he still calls Dana frequently, they both still care about each other very much, Tim just moved out young

now cut to the bats:

Dick is looking though his old pictures and finds the one and that had been taken the last night of the flying Graysons, as per canon the family with them in the picture (the Drakes) had sent it to him and he wants to see if he can find out who they are, so after all these years he can thank them in person

Bruce recognizes them as the Drakes who sadly passed away a few years ago, but according to a quick search by Oracle their son Tim should still be alive

should being there operative word

Tim hasn’t been seen in Gotham since he was seventeen, seven years ago, and any records of moving away are sketchy at best

they talk to some of the last people who should’ve seen him, his old Brentwood classmates and skater friends, who are very closed off about any questions asked (Kip, Wes and Buzz are just trying not to out Tim and Danny because why else would anyone be asking about their time at Brentwood?)

Steph tries a similar approach with Tim’s best friend Ives, she thought she’d have better luck since they went to school together, but is getting the same very vague and cold responses (Ives is also under a similar impression as Kip, Wes and Buzz)

so armed with the knowledge that

No one is giving any information on Tim Drake or his new family

Tim would’ve had access to a lot of money on his next birthday, that until then would be held with his only next of kin

Dana Winters who was supposed to be the caregiver of Jack Drake, who passed not shortly before, ended up adopting his son despite no previous experience with adoption

the bats, being detectives but not omniscient come to the very wrong conclusion that rather than having sketchy moving documents because of his involvement with the cult of the cobra, Tim is a missing persons case, presumed dead

their main suspect, Dana Winters

motive, the Drake fortune

and well you can’t just start investigating and accusing the mother in law of a leader of the cult of the cobra of a heinous crime without a few snakes catching wind of that, and god forbid what will happen if you make her cry

[lilithofpenandbook]

I heard someone say that the Malfoys were the best parents, what are your thoughts on this? And could you make a rank from the best parents to the worst?

Hmm, I'd actually say yes. There's a difference between being a good parent and being a good person. Someone could be incredibly accepting of those with impure blood yet be absolutely terrible parents, and vice versa.

When it comes to the Malfoys, yes, Lucius did influence Draco in the wrong way, yes, he did raise Draco to be a Death Eater, and we don't know how Draco would have been treated if he rejected Lucius's ideology. However, there is no indication that Draco was forced into believing what he did. He just was a product of his environment- not forced into believing it but also not wanting to not believe in it. In a way, it was Draco's normal. Additionally, while Draco was forced to be a Death Eater (I believe), it wasn't because he didn't want to be one, it's because Voldemort wanted to use him despite being too young, primarily to punish Lucius (and that to me speaks volumes about Lucius's love for his son- if Voldemort recognised it enough to know it would hurt Lucius then it must have been clear Lucius put Draco before Voldemort deep inside). I also believe Draco, once exposed to the actual reality of his beliefs and what they do to people, regretted believing them and hated it all, and wanted out, and ended up a good person, but that's another topic.

As for the ranking, in no particular order (aside from me remembering them):

The Riddles/ The Gaunts. As parents, I can't talk about Merope or Tom, however as people all I can say is that Tom is a victim of SA by Merope and that action of hers was absolutely horrific. However, I can also empathise with Merope because her father? The worst. Actually, I'm going to put him as the ultimate worst parent, simply because his actions are what led to Merope being so unstable that she seriously thought love potioning a man was a good idea. I am not condoning Merope's actions, however I do understand that she was very unwell and unstable as a result of the abuse she suffered, and if not for that then she probably would not have married Tom 1 and conceived her son under a love potion, which is the canonical reason for Tom being Voldemort, and therefore the reason for almost everything wrong. Almost.

I say almost because regardless of Voldemort, both Tobias Snape and the Black parents would have absolutely sucked and so regardless of Voldemort, both Severus Snape and Sirius Black would have experienced trauma (although not as horrifically as it was due to the war).

Tobias is worse than Walburga and Orion Black in my opinion, as it's heavily implied at least that he physically beat Snape and definitely beat Eileen. He's only above Merope's dad because I do think he wasn't as bad as him, and because part of Snape's childhood struggles is due to poverty. Him wearing ill-fitting old clothes and being bullied and ostracized has less to do with Tobias's treatment and more to the inherit poverty, however Tobias did nothing to help Snape, and was definitely an abusive husband. As a parent, he was neglectful and abrasive at best.

The Black parents are better than him, as parents. Yes, this is separate to their morals- I am judging them based on their treatment of their children. And when it comes to them, firstly there was Regulus, who was favoured and loved by them, even if they didn't raise him correctly. Then there's Sirius. And here's the thing, while I don't deny Walburga at least was abusive, the abusive itself was only confirmed to be abusive, which is horrible, yes, but not as horrible as the previously mentioned parents (wow, the bar is low). And another key element is the fact that Sirius was the one who left, rather than he being kicked out too. So while verbally abusive, I don't believe Walburga and Orion completely neglected Sirius.

However, a very similar set of parents yet miles worse are Petunia and Vernon. One of their kids was incredibly spoilt to the point of being incredibly stupid, the other was completely and fully abused. They beat the Blacks but are still only a little better than Tobias and the Gaunts.

As for Harry's actual parents, James and Lily Potter, they both loved Harry, but they didn't live long enough to decide whether they would be good at actual parenting or if they'd spoil Harry.

And I'm gonna mention the Evans parents too. I don't think they were good parents. Not as bad as a lot of these people, but not good. How else do you raise someone like Petunia, so jealous of her sister she abused a little boy? Yeah, no.

Now, Molly and Arthur Weasley are rather polarising. Some say they're good, some say they were bad. I'm going to say that they weren't perfect, but not bad at all. Yes, Ron wasn't always given the best treatment, yes, Molly favoured certain children, but at the same time she was the mother to seven very strong minded individuals, and still took care of Harry despite their poverty. And I do count them as "poor". Although they aren't as poor as some of the others, they're still not rich at all. The reason they don't struggle is because they save money with the hand me downs and everything. So I'd say that actually, they weren't bad at all. I personally don't like how much Molly yells, however that's probably because of my own issues, not because she's actually being harsh. Her family is loud. She had to be louder.

I'm also gonna mention the Dumbledore parents. The father definitely made a bad decision, however it was to protect his daughter. That doesn't however change how bad that idea was. As for the mother, again, maybe not the best decision at the time to isolate Ariana, especially because it resulted in her boys suffering. However I will cut them some slack because they weren't in any normal situation and that would affect their judgement. So not abusive by any means, but not the best parents either.

Hermione's parents. Where were they and why didn't they seem concerned over their only child? That's all I can say (perhaps they figured her being magical made her invulnerable?)

The last parents I can think of are Andromeda and Ted Tonks. And actually they're probably the best parents in the series. Nymphadora grows up to be a good, happy young woman, and they clearly love her even if they don't agree with her choices. I honestly can't remember anything wrong with them.

That's my "ranking" of the worst to best parents, out of all the people I can remember. Honestly, there's a very high number of bad parents here (the bar is so low that Not Smacking Your Child is enough to give Walburga a higher ranking, dear god).

Oh, actually I forgot!

James Potter's parents. Maybe one of the WORST up there with the Gaunts because how do you raise such a little psychopath? I can see where Sirius gets it but his family is known to be bad, so what was with the Potters? James was well cared for and adored (the words used in the book!) yet he spent 7 years bullying Snape. Just how? What kind of parents were his?

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this! Thanks for the ask!

[survivalove]

We know why Aang fell in love with Katara! But what about Katara? Can you give me five reasons why Katara fell in love with Aang? We see her love grow throughout the seasons until she threatens Zuko, willing to kill him for Aang.

ummmm sure! why not?

1. Vulnerability

I think it’s safe to say Katara was infatuated with Aang from day 1. Starting on the basis of him being ‘new’ and later, on him being the literal savior she’d been dreaming of.

But love isn’t based on infatuation. So to me, what made Katara fall in love with Aang was getting to know him as a real person, his strengths and his vulnerabilities. Katara was the only person to whom Aang told the truth about his disappearance and I think that was the start of her falling in love with Aang, the boy, not the Avatar.

2. Unconditional Support

As soon as Aang meets Katara he immediately offers to help make her dream come true with no strings attached. Keep in mind, since her mother passed, Katara had been forced to inherit a motherly role both in her family unit and in her tribe, learning to put others before herself. Then here comes a boy, foreign to this dynamic and is ready to put her dreams above whatever it is he has to do.

I think that would make any girl fall in love especially one in her circumstances. Also helps that Aang is very consistent in supporting Katara, so much so that she expects him to be there for her when she needs him, without asking. This also ties into my 3rd reason.

3. Trust

Katara and Aang are friends first which is very important to their relationship and some may say supersedes their romantic arc. Katara always trusts aang to do the right thing and be a good person, not just towards her but to those in need. We can see with her that this is very important to her in the Jet episode and is in fact a dealbreaker for her when Jet ends up breaking her trust. Aang however, never betrays her. In fact, her trust in him is only rewarded time and time again, so why wouldn’t she fall in love with him?

4. Childhood Hero

Not to contradict my first point but Aang being the Avatar is still kind of an important factor, just not the most important one. The fortuneteller is the first episode where Katara sees Aang in a romantic light and it’s after he defeats a powerful force of nature almost single-handedly. We see that Katara is very pleased when Aunt Wu tells her she will marry someone very powerful and who’s more powerful than the literal Avatar? I think it’s rather natural that Katara would fall in love with the hero she’s been waiting for her whole life, especially when he actually lives up to everything she dreamed he would be and more.

It’s like when you meet your favorite celebrity and they’re actually a nice person which makes you like them even more? In this case, Katara’s favorite celebrity just happens to like her back so

5. Wisdom

Lastly, I think what helped Katara fall in love with Aang is that he is someone she can learn from him and he learns from her as well. They’re both steadfast in their beliefs even when they contrast each other’s. Katara has always shown an interest in spirituality and other cultures and here comes a boy from a time before war who can show her the way things were back then, takes her around the world to explore other cultures that she was never exposed to, validates her belief in spirituality and even better, humbly accepts her as someone she can learn from as well.

i hope this response is satisfactory to you anon 😂

[slut4thebroken]

Glory hole hcs

Idk don’t ask lmao. I just randomly got an idea

(Jackson Rippner, Jonathan Crane, Lenny Miller, Neil Lewis, Raymond Leon, Robert Capa, Robert Fischer, Tommy Shelby)

TW: Misogyny. Lots of it lol

Jackson Rippner - Between jobs, when he doesn’t have the time or energy to seduce a woman and take her home or hire a hooker, he’d just go to a glory hole instead. Sometimes all he wants is just a tight, warm cunt to fuck away all his stress with. He’d be really agressive about it too, knowing she pretty much has no choice but to take it. If he’s fucking a particularly good cunt, sometimes he’ll imagine waiting outside for her to leave, then dragging her into an alley or his car to fuck her again— for free this time. Those thoughts always had him coming just a little too fast though.

Jonathan Crane - With his antisocial and narcissistic personality, he doesn’t get very many bitches lmao. He also thinks that hookers are just a little too intimidating for his liking. But glory holes are easy— familiar. It’s like fucking a fleshlight, but warm and sometimes able to squeeze his cock tight enough to almost force him out. Plus it’s easier to let out stress by pounding something with half of his body, rather than using his hand, no matter how hard or fast he strokes it. It’s just different.

Lenny Miller - Honestly he probably went to one looking into a lead for a case and couldn’t stop thinking about it until eventually he decided to go back, not on the clock this time. He understands the appeal almost instantly, but… he prefers being able to play with a pair of tits, leave marks all over out of unwarranted possession, and see the look on her face when she falls apart on his cock. He likes having power over a person rather than a hole.

Neil Lewis - Neil would go simply because he’s never seen anything like that in real life, only in porn. He’d get there and feel like his heart was about to beat out of his chest, but he’d go in anyway. Honestly, he’d probably come in like… less than five minutes. But these kinds of things are a little expensive so he’d endure the overstimulation just to get his moneys worth. But he probably gets bored of it pretty quickly because it’s basically just how he gets off at home, only he’s not even watching porn, he’s just fucking something.

Raymond Leon - He doesn’t have time for relationships and for some reason he thinks he’s above hookers. So during a particulary stressful case, he’ll blow off steam by fucking a cunt. It’s quick and easy which is why he likes it so much. Another thing he likes about it is the fact that it’s emotionless. Not that hookers aren’t, but technically lust is an emotion. He doesn’t have to feel anything or show any emotions (even just lust) when he gets off like this, all he has to focus on is coming.

Robert Capa - He gives off the vibe of either being very very single, or in a long term, loving, committed relationship. When he’s single though, he’s awkward, doesn’t really like most people, thinks he’s above them. That kind of attitude makes it pretty hard to get hoes lolll. And he seems like the type where any sex is intimate and vulnerable to him, even with a hooker. The act in and of itself is what’s intimate and that makes it harder for him to just fuck anyone since he doesn’t like showing any vulnerability at all. But at least if he goes to a glory hole, he’s not fucking a woman, he’s fucking a cunt.

Robert Fischer - Being next in line to inherit a billion dollar company, people know who he is. Obviously not everyone, but enough. Which is why he likes glory holes. He gets to fuck something and not have to worry about his reputation potentially going to shit by hiring the wrong hooker. When he gets the opportunity, he’ll fuck one of the many girls who throw themselves at him. But if he’s worked up and overwhelmed or too tired to give a shit about making a girl come, he finds his way back to glory holes.

Thomas Shelby - He probably has a specific one he goes to every time. And in that one, he fucks one girl (his favorite) every time. He doesn’t go often because he has enough cunts throwing themselves at him daily, but when he wants a cunt who’s almost too tight and doesn’t moan in an exaggerated way that borders on annoying, that’s when he’ll go to a glory hole. Even though she’s just a sleeve for his cock, he likes teasing her, edging both of them together just to torture her a little bit and drag it out for himself.