#so they try to get in your way while you're collecting stuff or trying to push the cart

[moku-youbi]

I think I commented on this before, IDK, but I'm not going to shut up about it, because no. NO. You didn't WANT to know. Gaiman showed this side of him self *ages* ago. How do I know? 'Cause it was at least 10+ years ago that he encouraged his fans to dox my friend, on twitter, because she had the audacity to speak up about his disgusting, misogynistic comments about an actress at a con. (Basically some gross dude made a comment to her face about how he jerked off to her, and she was trying to be polite but also clearly uncomfortable and Gaiman told her she should take it as a compliment and not get her panties in a bunch, look it's been a minute, I don't remember all the details anymore)

I screamed about this on many of his posts, told people directly when they praised him on here, and never got so much as a peep of a reply. And this was easily confirmable. At least at the time, the tweets were still there, of her (very non-confrontationally calling him out like "hey, this isn't okay." and him going rabid and siccing his fanbase on her). A rich, famous, influential man with an army of fans on twitter went after a random nobody for pointing out this problematic encounter, and NO ONE CARED. Everyone straight up ignored me.

And okay, fine, maybe you didn't see my reblogs or comments, maybe you weren't one of the people I messaged directly. I'm hardly a name on here. BUT, the thing is, he showed this same behaviour ON THIS FUCKING SITE, all the damn time. The way he belittled people who sent him asks was truly disgusting. Ya know, it's fine to not like the questions you're being asked, especially when they feel repetitive, or if they feel intrusive. But the problem is, Gaiman fostered this parasocial relationship with his fans here, and as long as they were appropriately worshipful, he treated them kindly. But the contempt he showed to the socially awkward, and the way he encouraged his huge fanbase on here to dogpile onto his rude, aggressive replies to their asks, is very telling of what sort of person he is. He could have answered those asks privately. He could have ignored and deleted them. He could have give a very simple "I've already answered this" or "I'm not going to answer these sorts of questions." Instead, he chose to regularly excoriate random nobodies who were FANS OF HIS WORK for not interacting with it in the way he wanted, or asking questions that annoyed him. He made himself accessible on this platform and then behaved very irresponsibly with his fame.

And you all don't get to pretend like this is somehow a revelation. Plenty of you reblogged those disgusting answers he gave to asks--that's how I saw them, because I sure as fuck didn't *follow* him, yet people I did follow would reblog them with a gleeful sort of schadenfreude, a "look at this idiot he's tearing apart," instead of "look at this powerful man using his platform to demean and belittle a fan."

You wanted your gay Angel and Demon (and don't EVEN get me started on Good Omens, dear fucking christ, and how that man RUINED my favourite book, and how everything that was good about it, and lovely about Aziraphale/Crowely came from Pratchett), you wanted your emo boy Dream, you wanted to preen at the famous guy who deigned to walk among us on tumblr, all "Notice me, Senpai!" so you chose to ignore all the ugly stuff and the voices quietly railing against him, until there were too many voices, on too large a platform for you to ignore anymore.

I'm not saying there aren't predators who fly below the radar, because sadly there definitely are, and it's scary. But I'm also not about to let the people who sat idly by while Gaiman bullied fans on the regular clutch their pearls and gasp "how could we have ever known?"

(and because I've legit got people come in my messages before about "why are you attacking me personally about this" the 'you' in this is the collective, not a specific individual, and if you're getting defensive, maybe examine why you feel that way...)

I want to step away from the art-vs-artist side of the Gaiman issue for a bit, and talk about, well, the rest of it. Because those emotions you're feeling would be the same without the art; the art just adds another layer.

Source: I worked with a guy who turned out to be heavily involved in an international, multi-state sex-slavery/trafficking ring.

He was really nice.

Yeah.

It hits like a dumptruck of shit. You don't feel stable in your world anymore. How could someone you interacted with, liked, also be a truly horrible person? How could your judgement be that bad? How can real people, not stylized cartoon bogeymen, be actually doing this shit?

You have to sit with the fact that you couldn't, or probably couldn't, have known. You should have no guilt as part of this horror — but guilt is almost certainly part of that mess you're feeling, because our brains do this associative thing, and somehow "I liked [the version of] the guy [that I knew]", or his creations, becomes "I made a horrible mistake and should feel guilty."

You didn't, loves, you didn't.

We're human, and we can only go by the information we have. And the information we have is only the smallest glimpse into someone else's life.

I didn't work closely with the guy I knew at work, but we chatted. He wasn't just nice; he was one of the only people outside my tiny department who seemed genuinely nice in a workplace that was rapidly becoming incredibly toxic. He loaned me a bike trainer. Occasionally he'd see me at the bus stop and give me a lift home.

Yup. I was a young woman in my twenties and rode in this guy's car. More than once.

When I tell this story that part usually makes people gasp. "You must feel so scared about what could have happened to you!" "You're so lucky nothing happened!"

No, that's not how it worked. I was never in danger. This guy targeted Korean women with little-to-no English who were coerced and powerless. A white, fluent, US citizen coworker wasn't a potential victim. I got to be a person, not prey.

Y'know that little warning bell that goes off, when you're around someone who might be a danger to you? That animal sense that says "Something is off here, watch out"?

Yeah, that doesn't ping if the preferred prey isn't around.

That's what rattled me the most about this. I liked to think of myself as willing to stand up for people with less power than me. I worked with Japanese exchange students in college and put myself bodily between them and creeps, and I sure as hell got that little alarm when some asian-schoolgirl fetishist schmoozed on them. But we were all there.

I had to learn that the alarm won't go off when the hunter isn't hunting. That it's not the solid indicator I might've thought it was. That sometimes this is what the privilege of not being prey does; it completely masks your ability to detect the horrors that are going on.

A lot of people point out that 'people like that' have amazing charisma and ability to lie and manipulate, and that's true. Anyone who's gotten away with this shit for decades is going to be way smoother than the pathetic little hangers-on I dealt with in university. But it's not just that. I seriously, deeply believe that he saw me as a person, and he did not extend personhood to his victims. We didn't have a fake coworker relationship. We had a real one. And just like I don't know the ins-and-outs of most of my coworkers lives, I had no idea that what he did on his down time was perpetrate horrors.

I know this is getting off the topic, but it's so very important. Especially as a message to cis guys: please understand that you won't recognize a creep the way you might think you will. If you're not the preferred prey, the hind-brain alarm won't go off. You have to listen to victims, not your gut feeling that the person seems perfectly nice and normal. It doesn't mean there's never a false accusation, but face the fact that it's usually real, and you don't have enough information to say otherwise.

So, yeah. It fucking sucks. Writing about this twists my insides into tense knots, and it was almost a decade ago. I was never in danger. No one I knew was hurt!

Just countless, powerless women, horrifically abused by someone who was nice to me.

You don't trust your own judgement quite the same way, after. And as utterly shitty as it is, as twisted up and unstead-in-the-world as I felt the day I found out — I don't actually think that's a bad thing.

I think we all need to question our own judgement. It makes us better people.

I don't see villains around every corner just because I knew one, once. But I do own the fact that I can't know, really know, about anyone except those closest to me. They have their own full lives. They'll go from the pinnacles of kindness to the depths of depravity — and I won't know.

It's not a failing. It's just being human. Something to remember before you slap labels on people, before you condemn them or idolize them. Think about how much you can't know, and how flawed our judgement always is.

Grieve for victims, and the feeling of betrayal. But maybe let yourself off the hook, and be a bit slower to skewer others on it.

[idrawweirdstuffnominors]

So I've decided to reread the comics for the upteeth time and it got me thinking, how do you think the tec would react to having a s/o that's just as toxic and degenerate as them >:3c

(Lol them meeting their match is gonna be- Oh boy)

Bill Dickey x equally toxic/degenerate S/O:

Bill wouldn’t just like a partner who’s as rotten as him—he’d worship the ground they stomped on, at least at first. He’s the kind of guy who wants a partner who can match his rage rant for rage rant, quote obscure media just as obnoxiously, and humiliate others in the name of "fandom superiority." If you're verbally destroying some poor soul online while yelling about canon continuity errors, he'd probably say, “That’s my girl/guy/them!” with tears in his eyes.

But here’s the thing—Bill is a control freak. He sees himself as the alpha nerd in any room. So when his partner starts out-toxic-ing him, stealing his thunder during a nerd tirade, or calling him out on his hypocritical gatekeeping? Oh boy. That’s when the fireworks start.

He’d be:

Enraged, but also weirdly flustered.

Petty as hell. Like purposely misquoting your favorite sci-fi monologue just to piss you off.

Constantly trying to one-up you, even in mutual destruction.

Arguments would be legendary. You’d both yell until someone’s voice cracks and someone else’s collectibles get flung across the room. Then you’d probably hate-makeout or angrily binge-watch Babylon 5 like nothing happened.

And yet, despite (or because of) the toxicity, he'd brag about you to others like:

> “You wouldn’t get it, Jerry. My s/o’s real. They threw a slur at a Funko Pop collector once. I almost proposed.”

Bill wouldn’t admit it out loud but you have his ass whipped and you are his worst enemy, but he'd need someone just as messed up as him to feel less like a loser. Someone who validates his degeneracy and still somehow sticks around. It'd be co-dependent, angry, and probably end in broken furniture—but he'd secretly consider it the most meaningful connection he's ever had.

Josh x equally toxic/degenerate S/O:

Josh is the kind of guy who thinks he wants a sweet, understanding partner who “gets” him—but when he actually ends up with someone who’s just as bitter, neurotic, and fandom-addicted as he is? He spirals.

You two would be that couple who get kicked out of comic book shops for arguing about canon loud enough to scare the employees. You’d both spew venom online under different usernames, then gas each other up like:

> “That takedown post you made about that guy who likes the Abrams Trek movies? That was beautiful. I left a comment with a .GIF.”

He’d act all defensive and cranky when you’re around others—bragging about how your relationship is based on “mutual intellectual superiority”—but deep down, he’s addicted to the chaos. You'd enable each other’s worst habits. Obsessive collecting. Screaming fights over which anime arc sucked more. Using fandom as a weapon in your actual relationship fights.

But Josh is insecure. Big time.

If you ever criticize him the way you do the rest of the world, it’d cut him deep. He'd lash out with one of his self-righteous, borderline-incoherent rants, calling you a “fake nerd elitist dilettante traitor” (yes, he’d say all that in one breath). Then sulk for three days while obsessively rewatching DS9 and quoting Garak at you passive-aggressively.

Still, he'd be helplessly attached. Even when things get toxic, he’d need you around like a comfort blanket he can also scream at.

You’d probably:

Get in fights at conventions and high-five about it later.

Argue about ethics in game journalism during making out

Make each other mixtapes full of spiteful punk songs and anime OSTs. And classical star wars sound tracks.

At the end of the day, he'd rather fight with someone who gets him than be with someone who doesn’t care about the real stuff. You’re poison in the same flavor. And he’s never letting go.

Pete x equally toxic/degenerate S/O:

At first? Pete is in heaven.

He meets someone who rants about “casuals” and punches holes in Funko Pop boxes with the same fire he has? Someone who lights up like a Molotov cocktail when someone says “I liked the live-action adaptation”? He’s into it.

> “Yo, my s/o threatened to spit in a guy’s eye for calling Alien 3 underrated. That’s f***in’ hot.”

He’d act like the mature one in public, rolling his eyes when you go on a tirade—but the moment you’re alone? He’s telling you how cool it was, laughing with you while you both trash on someone’s fandom take like a roast session from hell.

But here’s the catch: Pete wants to think he’s better than everyone, including you, sometimes. If you get too toxic, outshine him, or drag him into your messes?

He’ll get defensive. Like:

> “Why the hell would you post that? Now they’re gonna think I agree with you! Jesus, babe, tone it down—”

Which is rich coming from the guy who once threw a Slurpee at someone for misquoting Army of Darkness.

Still, he’d never fully stop you. You’re his chaos twin. The Tiffany to his angry Chucky. He respects that you don’t take sh*t and that you’ll always take his side—even when he’s objectively wrong. (Which is, let’s be real, often.)

You two would:

Chain-smoke after vicious internet fights like war buddies.

Laugh meanly at cosplayers you hate together.

Have intense, hormonal-charged arguments about whether practical effects are superior (you agree—but still fight anyway).

There’d be some real loyalty under all that aggression. Pete’s the type to stand behind his s/o in a bar fight, even if it was your fault. Especially if it was your fault.

And if someone else insults you?

> “Hey, I can call them a self-righteous poser. You can’t. Say that again and I’ll staple your tongue to a box set of The Thing.”

In short? It’s loud, it’s petty, it’s defensive—but somehow, it works. Against all odds, Pete finds love in a mirror made of nerd rage and bad coping mechanisms.

Jerry x equally toxic/degenerate S/O:

At first, Jerry would act like he’s above it.

> “I mean… yeah, my partner gets a little heated online, but it’s just because they care about integrity in fandom, you know? They’re really passionate.”

Meanwhile, you’re live-tweeting death threats to someone who said Evangelion was “mid.”

Secretly? He’s obsessed with you.

You're the only person who makes him feel seen. You watch hentai and don’t flinch. You roast bad animation and toxic fan communities with surgical precision. You quote Berserk at him during foreplay. He’s sweating. He’s trembling. He’s yours.

But he’s also deeply insecure.

When you start getting more attention than him in fandom spaces? Or when you make jokes about his creepy little figure collection he’s pretending isn’t creepy? He’ll get all sulky and weird about it.

> “It’s not, like, weird to have a full resin cast of Ryoko from Tenchi Muyo. It’s art. And the panties came like that.”

He’s the type to spiral emotionally if you call him out, then try to guilt-trip you with his “sensitive guy” schtick. But you, being just as rotten, clap back harder. Suddenly he’s flustered and crying.

Still, your relationship would thrive in the shadows. You’d spend nights:

Watching trashy OVA VHS tapes from the ‘90s while you both pretend it’s for “aesthetic.”

Arguing about which magical girl transformation was more badass.

Co-writing long, disturbing fanfiction under anonymous handles—then reading it to each other in bed.

You both would Build each other OP Magic the gathering decks.

Jerry is pathetic, but with an equally degenerate s/o? He’s emboldened. Enabled. You let him be a little freak without judgment, and that’s more love than he’s ever gotten.

He’d never leave. He’s too scared he’ll never find someone who can both match his depravity and bully him just enough to feel alive.

[darlingdaisyfarm]

Hiii! I hope I'm not late for the hc party.

I hc that Ford has tried a looot of different nsfw unholy things with his partner. It took a bit to get there and a lot of reassurances and consent discussions ofc!

I hc he would've tried hypnotism and medical fet. But dunno if he'd go forward with the former with his past- maybe trying it once. I am just a sucker for his velvety smooth voice holy shit I'd do anything for this old man-

But what do you think?

hi!! no ur not late dont worry!! first of all, i love Ford’s voice too. i would melt into a fucking puddle if he praised me. “you’re doing so well, darling” id cry and physically shut down. you would have to scrape me off the floor. j.k. simmons was such a correct choice.

nsfw stuff under the cut

i also think you’re spot on about the hypnotism, maybe he’d be into it or at least deeply curious, but the implications would hit him mid-scene and he’d stop bc he’s too self-aware. he needs to know you’re with him the whole time, fully present. Ford would only do it if you begged, like seriously begged. he’d be scared shitless the whole time but would still try for you. aftercare would be INTENSE. he’s checking in every ten seconds. “are you okay? are you really okay?” he’s cupping your face, looking at your pupils

he’d only go through with it once, maybe twice, because it fucks him up too much

and medical kink??? he’s totally the kind of man who would pull on gloves and inspect you like you’re a specimen and a miracle at the same time.. explaining ur own anatomy back to u while softly saying, “is this alright?” as he touches you. holding your hips down while noting your pulse. analysing you mid-moan.

and listen, i don’t even know if this counts as medical kink, but you know he’s journaling about it after. the sex, your reactions, the exact way you tasted, what your body did at certain times. your pH levels, maybe.... LMAO. but like he’d absolutely do that

also the gloves, i need him to wear them. snapping them on like it’s just procedure. brushing his knuckles across your stomach to see how your muscles react. i promise, there will be many phrases as “you’re so responsive” or “fascinating. i wonder if that’s neural or psychological…”

no, wait

imagine him checking your heart rate with two fingers to your neck

“tell me if it gets too intense. i want your full consent, not just compliance.”

probably pulls out a sterile metal tray with tools. a stethoscope. thermometer. gloves. lube. “just a standard preliminary exam,” he says while you’re already squirming

and and and..... “can i insert something for observation?” he says this while adjusting his glasses... how did i even come up with that

“you're flushed. elevated respiration. dilated pupils. how are you feeling, sweetheart?”

he'd do a “follow my finger” test to watch your eyes while you're dizzy from edging

he’d have a vibrator with adjustable intensity levels and graph it against your response time

“you’re being so good. now lie still for the procedure”

HE HOLDS YOUR WRIST TO CHECK YOUR PULSE WHILE HE’S INSIDE YOU. “i want to feel what i do to you. right here”

“may i collect a sample?”

anyway. this is your fault thank you!! i want to be Ford’s favourite experiment but in like a romantic and fucked up way. “my hypothesis is that you’re the most beautiful creature i’ve ever seen” he says this while fingering you in latex gloves

[angrybatart]

🦆

(Based on when I was trying to hide and had an Apex Predator run up to join me.)

[icewindandboringhorror]

I'm so heavily anti-advertising that all pitches sound goofy silly to me/I can never take them seriously, so I have no idea how I'll manage to to advertise my game even if I do finally finish it soon-ish lol...

[ms-demeanor]

Do you have thoughts about the changes to Firefox's Terms of Use and Privacy Notice? A lot of people seem to be freaking out ("This is like when google removed 'Don't be evil!'"), but it seems to me like just another case of people getting confused by legalese.

Yeah you got it in one.

I've been trying not to get too fighty about it so thank you for giving me the excuse to talk about it neutrally and not while arguing with someone.

Firefox sits in such an awful place when it comes to how people who understand technology at varying levels interact with it.

On one very extreme end you've got people who are pissed that Firefox won't let you install known malicious extensions because that's too controlling of the user experience; these are also the people who tend to say that firefox might as well be spyware because they are paid by google to have google as the default search engine for the browser.

In the middle you've got a bunch of people who know a little bit about technology - enough to know that they should be suspicious of it - but who are only passingly familiar with stuff like "internet protocols" and "security certificates" and "legal liability" who see every change that isn't explicitly about data anonymization as a threat that needs to be killed with fire. These are the people who tend not to know that you can change the data collection settings in Firefox.

And on the other extreme you've got people who are pretty sure that firefox is a witch and that you're going to get a virus if you download a browser that isn't chrome so they won't touch Firefox with a ten foot pole.

And it's just kind of exhausting. It reminds me of when you've got people who get more mad at queer creators for inelegantly supporting a cause than they are at blatant homophobes. Like, yeah, you focus on the people whose minds you can change, and Firefox is certainly more responsive to user feedback than Chrome, but also getting you to legally agree that you won't sue Firefox for temporarily storing a photo you're uploading isn't a sign that Firefox sold out and is collecting all your data to feed to whichever LLM is currently supposed to be pouring the most bottles of water into landfills before pissing in the plastic bottle and putting the plastic bottle full of urine in the landfill.

The post I keep seeing (and it's not one post, i've seen this in youtube comment sections and on discord and on tumblr) is:

Well-meaning person who has gotten the wrong end of the stick: This is it, go switch to sanguinetapir now, firefox has gone to the dark side and is selling your data. [Link to *an internet comment section* and/or redditor reactions as evidence of wrongdoing].

Response: I think you may be misreading the statements here, there's been an update about this and everything.

Well-meaning (and deeply annoying) person who has gotten the wrong end of the stick: If you'd read the link you'd see that actually no I didn't misinterpret this, as evidenced by the dozens of commenters on this other site who are misinterpreting the ToU the same way that I am, but more snarkily.

Bud.

Anyway the consensus from the actual security nerds is "jesus fucking christ we carry GPS locators in our pockets all goddamned day and there are cameras everywhere and there is a long-lasting global push to erode the right to encrypt your data and facebook is creating tracking accounts for people who don't even have a facebook and they are giving data about abortion travel to the goddamned police state" and they could not be reached for comment about whether Firefox is bad now, actually, because they collect anonymized data about the people who use pocket.

My response is that there is a simple fix for all of this and it is to walk into the sea.

(I am not worried about the updated firefox ToU, I personally have a fair amount of data collection enabled on my browser because I do actually want crash reports to go to firefox when my browser crashes; however i'm not actually all that worried about firefox collecting, like, ad data on me because I haven't seen an ad in ten years and if one popped up on my browser i'd smash my screen with a stand mixer - I don't care about location data either because turning on location on your devices is for suckers but also *the way the internet works means unless you're using a traffic anonymizer at all times your browser/isp/websites you connect to/vpn/what fucking ever know where you are because of the IP address that they *have* to be able to see to deliver the internet to you and that is, generally speaking, logged as a matter of course by the systems that interact with it*)

Anyway if you're worried about firefox collecting your data you should ABSOLUTELY NOT BE ON DISCORD OR YOUTUBE and if you are on either of those things you should 100% be using them in a browser instead of an app and i don't particularly care if that browser is firefox or tonsilferret but it should be one with an extension that allows you to choose what data gets shared with the sites it interacts with.

[shysuccubusstuff]

Yandere! Mr. Scarletella:

Content: violence + stalking + voyerism + picture taking + masturbation + stealing + break of privacy + neutral reader + tampering with your food + noncon content + Stockholm syndrome. + mindbreak.

Summary: Human! Scarletella just wasn't able to stop himself from stalking falling in love with such an amazing person, God, he just loves stealing borrowing your stuff!

Note: So, I just had to write something about this amazing game, feel free to check it out and support the creator!!

SFW:

Yandere! Scarletella who fell in love since the first time he saw you around university, always being around those other guys... But he knew he just had to wait, yeah, wait for the right moment to approach you.

Yandere! Scarlatella who keeps randomly appearing on your classes from time to time. Oh, he isn't even in your course, but taking a few extra classes or even skipping some of his is no issue for him.

Yandere! Scarlatella who makes sure to get close enough so he can steal a few things from you while in class, sometimes it's your old pencil, other times he just takes whatever has touched your hand that class. That includes waiting until the university is closing to take your thrown away coffe cup (it still has your salive, so he has definitely kissed you, right?).

Yandere! Scarlatella who keeps on appearing on your daily life, you try to act as if the constant encounters are just mere coincidences, not like he even tried to strike up a conversation with you, so there must be no danger, right?

Yandere! Scarlatella who sometimes follows you back to your doorm. He always makes sure to walk quite far away from you trying to avoid freaking you out as he knows it would affect your daily routine.

Yandere! Scarlatella who climbs up the tree just to be able to catch a glimpse of your face while you're sleeping. You look so beautiful with your lips sligthly parted! ♡ You don't know it, but he has found a way of opening your window while you're sleeping. When he feels extra bold, he lets himself run his fingers through your soft lips feeling your warm breath is just enough to get him hot and bothered ♡.

Yandere! Scarlatella who begins to be feared by all your friends. They keep warning you about him, but it's not like you have any proof of what he's doing, such a shame :(( jk. He made sure to state his point, beating your poor friends to a pulp if he saw them getting a bit too close to you, he made sure to leave no visible marks, he doesn't want you worrying your pretty little head.

Yandere! Scarlatella who loses it after seeing that creepy long-haired guy far too close to you, if you wanted him to kidnap take you with him already you could've just said so dummy! Of course he wastes no time taking you from those filthy guys. You will be safe with him ♡.

Yandere! Scarlatella who breaks your poor mind after being trapped several months. Maybe being taken care of isn't so bad, right?

NSFW:

Yandere! Scarlatella who masturbates to your sleeping face, his tip being dangerously close to your lips. He can't stop imagining them surrounding his lenght...♡ He knows he has to keep patient but each day it becomes harder to act neutral.

Yandere! Scarlatella who takes photos of your clothed cunt for his collection. This collection includes many versions, from more tame ones (you smiling) to less... ethical ones (your sleeping face).

Yandere! Scarlatella who robs your underwear while you sleep. He just needs some... extra motivation. So he uses them, wrapping them around his cock as he keeps moving his hand up and down, making sure to stain your poor underwear with his sperm. He makes sure to clean them throughly before giving them back to you, although he sometimes wishes he could just cum inside the underwear you're currently using.

Yandere! Scarlatella who keeps on putting his own fluids on the stuff he feeds you. Most days he keeps it tame, deciding to introduce a bit of his salive on your food/drink, but when you behave extremely bad, he uses his cum, mixing it with your food together with some aphrodisiac, just enough to make you lose a bit of your sanity from not being able to masturbate.

Yandere! Scarlatella who keeps cameras all around his house so he can see you from different angles (all make you look like an angel ♡). He may or may not use those videos to masturbate, just maybe.

Yandere! Scarlatella who begins to use your mouth to release himself as a reward. You were just so eager to be touched! He just knew you were in love with him! It has definitely nothing to do with him being the only human contact for over six months! You let him use your mouth as he wants, forcing his cock into your throat, those sinful sounds filling his room as you try not to puke from his tip hitting the back of your throat.

Yandere! Scarlatella who slowly begins to mark your whole body as his. He started by marking your face with his cum, moving on to your mouth and then to your beautiful chest, the next step was of course cumming all over your low abdomen.

Yandere! Scarlatella who refuses to cum inside of you. He keeps controlling himself by saying that he wants to make sure both of you truly love each other... that's... well. Let's just say that he is just another level of delusion, but don't worry, he would never give up on his sweet and precious darling ♡ !

[pipsqueaks89934]

Yandere Mershark x Mermaid reader

Warnings: the reader is kinda dumb, non-con, dub-con, marking, kidnapping, and biting.

You were swimming in the ocean, looking for a new shipwreck to explore so you could find cool new human things to add to your collection. Once you found a shipwreck you immediately began to swim over to it so you could find human stuff. As you checked out the sunken ship you hadn't noticed that you wandered a little too far and accidentally and unintentionally went into the Mershark territory without realizing it. You were too distracted in the human stuff to realize that a Mershark had snuck into the shipwreck and found you digging through a giant container while you threw things that you didn't like out and putting the stuff you did like in a bag you made of seaweed and other ocean plants. As you dug through the container you still were not aware of the Mershark silently sneaking up on you until you felt a large pair of arms wrap around your chubby waist, making a scream erupt from your throat.

“Hey, little one you're a long way from home aren't you?” the Mershark said as he turned you around so you two could be face to face.

“Who are you?” you squeal as you try to get away from the Mershark.

“I’m Alon,” he said as he played with a small chunk of your hair while keeping you in a strong grip. “And you're in my territory.”

“I’m so sorry,” you mumble as you give up trying to get out of his grip. “I’ll leave and never come back, I promise!”

“But then who will be my mate?” he asked with a smirk.

“I don't know!” you said as you started trying to get out of his grasp.

“Don't worry I'm not going to hurt you,” he said with a smirk that showed off his sharp teeth. “Too much!”

“No, please, I'm sorry!” you cry as he starts to swim out of the shipwreck with you in his arms.

He swam deeper and deeper into the ocean until you two reached a cove.

“Where are we?” you ask as you look around the small cove.

“Our new home!” he said while holding you from the back.

“Home?” you ask while looking at him with a scared look in your eyes.

“Yes,” he said while putting his head in the nook of your neck before kissing it gently. “Should I mark you now or while we mate?”

“What?” you ask as you try to push his head away.

“You're right,” he said before pinning you to the sea floor. “Why wait?”

The next thing you know you are being held down while the shark above you thrusts into your warmth at a fast pace.

“Fuck,” he groaned while he kept the pace he set earlier. “I’m gonna mark you in a minute, I know you mermaids like to have a mark to show off!”

All you could do was squeak, chirp, and whimper as the shark man thrust into you as hard as he could.

“Does it feel good my little fishy?” he asked as he looked down at you with a smirk on his handsome and chiseled face.

You tried not to think about how hot the Mershark on top of you was as he continued to fuck you.

“Answer!” he said angrily while grabbing your face so you could look back at him.

I don't remember looking away.

“N…no…” you whimper out as you try not to cry.

“Aww why didn't you say anything baby?” he cooed with fake pity before going slower.

“Ah!” you moan as he started to go slower.

“Does it feel good now?” he smirked as he hit all the good spots inside you at just the right pace.

You nodded your head as you felt something build up in your stomach. As the feeling grew you put your webbed claws on Alon’s shoulders so you could hold on to him as he thrusted into you. As you came you dug your sharp claws into his shoulders (accidentally making him bleed) before slumping down to the ocean floor. After a few more powerful thrusts he bottomed out and stayed there for a few seconds before you felt something fill you up.

“It's okay little fish,” he said soothingly as he rubbed your face. “It's just my eggs you will be okay.”

All you did was nod your head as you felt your eyelids getting heavy.

“I will never let you leave my side little fish,” he said with a smirk as he cuddled up beside you, making sure to hold you tight in his big arms. “Especially when you are the mother of our kids.”

[invoncible]

MARK GRAYSON & popstar!girly!reader ✧˚.

i know this might be a stretch of a concept but stay with me guys also request invincible stuff because i wanna write for this show so bad 😩

— your music career is sabrina carpenter coded.  — this is a hc set based on my long form fic that’s in drafts ... scared to post lol

——

mark who was first introduced to you through eve and william, who both liked your music. did you see those lady 'yaya' posters in william's dorm? yeah. william collected vinyls and mark just happened to be over when yours arrived. 

mark who starting crushing like crazy the moment the william unboxed the visuals. you just gave these out to anyone? for free ($80)? looking like that? you looked like a doll.

mark who bought your vinyl for himself, too. no, he didn't he have a vinyl player.

mark who stalked your youtube page as soon as he got home and binged all your performance. followed all your social media accounts. he didn’t tell anyone you were his new guilty pleasure, not even william. 

mark who almost exploded when he recognized you in school. his school. your dad dumped some money into the community and you somehow convinced him to attend. just for fun, since you’d already completed high school in homeschooling. 

mark who tried to downplay his interest and convince himself that you were a celebrity crush, not an actual crush like… amber, per se.

mark who saved you in costume once and had to listen to you fangirl over invincible the next day. the way you fawned over his alter ego made his heart skip a beat and he wanted to jump up and declare himself right then and there :(

mark who closed himself off from you and your influences when he started dating amber. and while he enjoyed himself and really loved his time with amber, he wasn't all in. before long, he and amber broke up.

mark who felt like everything was right in the world when he finally allowed himself to grow closer to you. you were so sweet, sickeningly so, and he couldn't get enough. for someone that was exposed to the crazy and brutal side of life almost everyday, it felt good to turn his brain off and sink into your pink fluffy sheets while listening to you hum and do your hair.

mark who was your prime model for face masks. he took all your fashion advice.

mark who listened to you rant about what all the media outlets were saying about you and about all of the weird, creepy fans who didn't understand boundaries. he promised he'd always be there to protect you.

mark who was terrified of your father. if you were lottie, your father was big daddy la bouf. spoiled the living hell out of you, but you were the opposite of bratty. the first time he met your dad, he felt very small. but your father saw how happy mark made you, and that was enough reason for him to let him hang around.

mark who was supposed to spend the night. you finally convinced your dad to forego the bodyguard for the night since mark was staying in with you. but mark had to cancel for hero stuff, snapping at you when you called and begged him to come home—you were scared. he was sure you were just anxious for not having your usual staff at your disposal, you'd be fine.

mark who went numb when he heard you'd been kidnapped by a stalker. then went ballistic trying to find you.

mark who arrived a little too late when he saw you'd been... altered by the sick mind who snatched you from the comfort of your own home. you're unconscious as he carries you back home and he can't stop blaming himself.

bro idk i hate this but i literally can't stop thinking about it

[juney-blues]

June Egbert is, and always has been incredibly fascinating to me because of just, how many factors have conspired to make Homestuck fans show their collective transmisogynistic asses.

The main character of Homestuck transitioning is a planned future plot point for the official continuation of homestuck, that was spoiled in advance by a fan making a joke about finding some toblerones Andrew Hussie the author of homestuck hid in a cave.

The current main writers of Homestuck: Beyond Canon have went on record in an AMA confirming that this was indeed always the plan, even before they took up the project.

In spite of these facts, the general consensus among certain homestuck fans seems to be that "June Egbert" is purely a headcanon for the original comic that was "made canon" by a "Toblerone Wish" (a concept that didn't even exist at the time)

For a variety of reasons, the "canonicity" of the postcanon official continuations of homestuck is a mattter of much debate, (though a debate that most homestuck fans seem to err on a side of "it's not canon at all in the slightest," something the writers have feelings on I'm sure.)

All of these factors combined leave the concept of "June Egbert" in a very nebulous place. It's assumed by most to just be an "ascended headcanon" that was shoehorned in, it's a spoiler so it hasn't happened yet in any official media, and the official media it will eventually happen in is regarded by some to be nothing more than glorified fanfic.

If someone is talking about June Egbert, and you don't like the concept of June Egbert, you have your pick of a million different excuses for why she's fake and gay and not worth discussing and bad writing and just the authors doing a gay dumbledore*, paying lip service to representation while actually doing nothing.

And of course, lots of people *don't* like June Egbert! Rather than being introduced as transfem from the start, she's in this nebulous position of discovery where people have to truly reckon with the idea of a "Pre-transition Trans Woman."

You can try to write off *some* of the backlash as transphobia, because obviously not everyone in this fandom is gonna be cool about trans people.

But there's no shortage of fans just dying to tell you about how much they like reading her as transmasc, or the idea of her being nonbinary or genderqueer or genderfluid, or literally anything besides a trans woman. And since they're fine with all those other interpretations, there's obviously no implicit biases driving their distaste for the concept! (if you want to try explaining the concept of "transmisogyny" to people like this you're braver than I.)

you can trust them when they say it's *just* a problem with whether or not it makes sense with the writing, or it just doesn't feel right somehow, or any of the thousands of excuses that this writing situation gives them to just Not Like It.

It's just, so interesting to me. There's not a lot of characters out there that get a trans arc in this way, that leaves room for open denialism and insistence that we have our trans cake and eat it too... Because Homestuck is a timeline spanning multiverse story, lots of people seem to want it to be an alternate timeline thing. Assuring us we can have this character share space with a non-transitioning version of herself and it won't be weird or imply gross things about trans people.

If you ask me it feels like a plotline that'd be really good for exploring some gender horror though, finding your true self and then being demoted to a footnote, an alternate version, because everyone around you likes your pre-transition self more....

Anyway I have no broader point beyond "hey look at this isn't this kinda weird. You don't get this kinda stuff often!"

*side note: it's a little ghoulish I think to compare "a future trans plot point that hasn't been given the chance to even happen yet, in an already famously queer piece of media, from a nonbinary author" to "some stupid shit done by the literal most famous transphobe of all time" but that's perhaps a discussion for later.

[mahalachives]

hi!! i don't if requests are still upon but if you're free can you please write one where the reader is azriel's mate and they've been together for a while and the IC knows, and at one dinner they find out that she used to be like, a party animal and kinda a maneater and they're totally shocked bcs shes so calm and composed now.

and then the next night the girls ask her for like tips to reject guys and stuff like 'what's the most offensive thing you've said to a man?' or 'how to reject men?'

really sorry if its too long!!

The Shadow's Mate: A Past Revealed

pairing: azriel x f!reader

genre: slice of life, fluff

The evening air was crisp as you made your way to the townhouse with Azriel, his shadows curling affectionately around your wrists. Six months since the mating bond had snapped into place, and still the Inner Circle dinners filled you with a mixture of joy and mild anxiety.

"You're quiet tonight," Azriel murmured, his hazel eyes searching yours."

You smiled up at him. "Just thinking."

His scarred hand squeezed yours gently. "About?"

"How different life is now." You leaned into his warmth. "And how much I prefer it."

Azriel's mouth quirked up at the corner, that small smile that only you could coax from him. "As do I."

The townhouse was already alive with chatter and laughter when you arrived. Feyre and Rhys were locked in what appeared to be a spirited debate about some painting technique, while Cassian and Nesta were arguing over knife-throwing techniques. Mor and Amren were deep in conversation about some jewelry merchant in the Rainbow.

"Finally," Cassian called out, grinning broadly as you both entered. "We thought we'd have to start without you."

"Some of us respect punctuality," Nesta remarked dryly, but there was no real bite to her words.

Dinner began as it always did – with wine flowing freely and conversation bouncing from topic to topic. Azriel kept his usual quiet vigil, though his shadows occasionally danced toward you, a secret gesture of affection that never failed to make your heart flutter.

"So," Mor said, refilling her wine glass for the third time, her cheeks flushed with a rosy glow, "I ran into the most awful male at Rita's last night. He tried to convince me his father owned half the Night Court."

"What did you tell him?" Elain asked, her eyes bright with curiosity.

Mor's grin was wicked. "That I'd introduce him to my cousin, the High Lord, and see if that checked out."

Laughter rippled around the table, and you couldn't help but join in.

"I swear, the males in this city are getting more ridiculous with their approaches," Mor continued, rolling her eyes. "Remember that one who tried to impress me by claiming he could outfly an Illyrian?"

"Did you dare him to try?" you asked before you could stop yourself, a hint of your old mischief slipping through.

Cassian barked a laugh. "I would have paid good money to see that."

"When I was at the Court of Nightmares," Feyre added, swirling her wine, "the number of propositions I received was absurd. One male offered me a collection of 'rare' paintings that were such obvious forgeries I nearly laughed in his face."

Something about the conversation loosened something inside you—a reminder of a different time, a different you.

"At least forgeries show some effort," you said, taking a sip of your wine. "I once had a male offer to buy me a drink with money he'd just borrowed from me."

The table fell momentarily silent, and you realized everyone was staring at you with varying degrees of surprise. Even Azriel's brows had inched up slightly.

"What?" you asked, suddenly self-conscious.

"You've never mentioned... dating before Azriel," Elain said delicately.

You glanced at your mate, who was watching you with that unreadable expression that had first drawn you to him. But there was a curious glint in his eyes now.

"Oh, I didn't date," you clarified with a casual wave. "Dating implies some level of commitment."

Cassian choked on his wine. Nesta patted his back, though her eyes never left you.

"You mean you..." Mor began, leaning forward with newfound interest.

"Had a rather active social life? Yes." You shrugged, a smile tugging at your lips. "Is that surprising?"

"Considering how you nearly fainted when Cassian made that joke about bedposts last month..." Rhys trailed off, his violet eyes dancing with amusement.

"That wasn't embarrassment," you corrected him. "That was me trying not to laugh at how tame it was."

Azriel's shadows curled with what you recognized as amusement, though his face remained mostly impassive.

"You're so... composed," Feyre said, gesturing vaguely in your direction. "So..."

"Proper?" you offered, and couldn't help but laugh. "I wasn't always. Before I moved to Velaris, I spent decades in the Autumn Court border towns. You develop certain... skills to navigate those environments."

"Skills," Amren repeated, her silver eyes gleaming with approval. "I bet you have stories."

"More than you'd believe," you admitted, feeling oddly liberated. You'd kept this part of yourself tucked away, unsure how it would fit with the dignified Inner Circle. Now you wondered why you'd bothered.

"Like what?" Cassian pressed, looking far too eager.

You caught Azriel's eye. His expression was one you knew well—silent encouragement, absolute acceptance.

"Well," you began, leaning forward conspiratorially, "there was the time I convinced three different males they were meeting me for a private rendezvous, only to have them all show up at the same tavern, at the same table..."

"No," Mor gasped delightedly.

"Oh yes. They were all from prominent Autumn Court families who were business rivals. I simply left them to figure it out while I slipped away with a rather expensive bottle of wine from behind the bar."

The table erupted in laughter, and something in your chest loosened even further.

"Why?" Nesta asked, a gleam of approval in her eyes.

"One of them had been particularly cruel to a friend of mine," you explained. "The other two were just collateral damage. And terrible flirts."

"I can't believe we never knew this about you," Feyre said, shaking her head in wonder.

You shrugged. "It wasn't relevant. That was before... everything." Your eyes drifted to Azriel.

"Before you tamed our shadowsinger?" Cassian teased.

You and Azriel exchanged a look that made Rhys clear his throat awkwardly.

"I wouldn't say 'tamed,'" you replied with a small smile.

"I think that's enough details for dinner," Rhys declared, though he was grinning.

The conversation shifted to other topics, but you could feel the occasional curious glances from the others. It was strange to have this part of yourself exposed, but not entirely unpleasant.

Later, as you and Azriel prepared to leave, he pulled you close in the quiet of the townhouse foyer.

"You never cease to surprise me," he murmured, his breath warm against your ear.

"Does it bother you?" you asked, suddenly uncertain. "Knowing I was so..."

"Free?" he offered. "Independent? Formidable?" His scarred fingers traced your cheek. "Why would I be bothered by the woman you were? She led you to me."

Your heart swelled as his lips found yours in a gentle kiss that quickly deepened into something more urgent.

"Take me home, shadowsinger," you whispered against his mouth.

His shadows enveloped you both, and the last thing you heard before the darkness swept you away was Cassian's distant whoop of approval.

The following evening found you at Rita's, surrounded by the females of the Inner Circle. It had been Mor's idea—a "girls' night" she'd called it, though you suspected it was partially motivated by her desire to hear more about your previous life.

"So," Mor began after your second round of drinks, confirming your suspicions, "most offensive thing you've ever said to a male?"

You laughed, shaking your head. "That's a high bar."

"We have time," Nesta said dryly, though her eyes sparkled with interest.

You considered for a moment. "Probably when I told a particularly persistent suitor that I'd rather mate with one of the naga than endure another minute of his company."

Elain's eyes widened while Feyre and Mor dissolved into laughter.

"That's brutal," Feyre managed between giggles.

"He deserved it," you replied with a shrug. "He had grabbed my wrist when I tried to walk away."

"What happened?" Amren asked, sipping her blood-red wine.

"Let's just say he learned that not all females need Illyrian warriors to protect them." You smiled sweetly, and Nesta clinked her glass against yours in solidarity.

"I need your expertise," Mor declared, leaning forward. "Best way to reject a male without causing a scene?"

"Depends on the male," you replied thoughtfully. "For the entitled ones, nothing works better than complete indifference. Act as if they're invisible. They hate that more than outright rejection—it wounds their pride more deeply."

"Noted," Feyre said, looking impressed.

"For the genuinely decent ones who just aren't right for you," you continued, "honesty works best. A simple 'I'm flattered, but no' with direct eye contact."

"What about the handsy ones?" Nesta asked, her expression darkening at some memory.

"Ah, those." You leaned back in your chair. "Public embarrassment is effective. Loudly ask if they're feeling alright after that unfortunate rash cleared up. Works every time."

Elain nearly choked on her drink.

"What about the ones who just won't take no for an answer?" Feyre asked.

"That's when you employ the 'bait and switch,'" you explained. "Pretend to give them your address, but actually direct them to the most unpleasant location you can think of. In the Autumn Court, I once sent a particularly awful male to what I claimed was my private cottage. It was actually the local waste collection site."

Mor's head fell back as she howled with laughter. Even Amren's lips curled into an appreciative smile.

"You're a menace," Feyre said admiringly.

"Was," you corrected with a small smile. "Now I'm a perfectly respectable mate to a High Lord's shadowsinger."

"Speaking of," Nesta said with uncharacteristic curiosity, "how did you and Azriel actually get together? I can't imagine him navigating the games you used to play."

"He didn't have to," you said softly. "That's why it worked. He saw through everything—all the walls, all the games. He just... waited."

"That sounds like Az," Feyre murmured.

"It was terrifying," you admitted. "Someone who could see the real me when I'd spent so long hiding her."

"And now?" Elain asked gently.

You smiled, thinking of the quiet understanding that had grown between you and Azriel, the safety you'd found in his shadows.

"Now I don't have to play games anymore. It's... peaceful."

"Cauldron save me," Mor groaned dramatically. "Az has domesticated you."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that," you replied with a wicked grin that made even Nesta raise her eyebrows. "Some skills never fade."

Later, when you arrived home to find Azriel waiting, his shadows reached for you before he did—always so eager, so honest in their affection.

"Did you have a good evening?" he asked, pulling you close.

"Enlightening," you replied, wrapping your arms around his neck. "They think you've tamed me."

His low chuckle rumbled through his chest. "Should I tell them it's the other way around?"

"Let them wonder," you whispered, standing on tiptoe to brush your lips against his. "Some mysteries are worth keeping."

As his wings enfolded you both in a cocoon of shadow and starlight, you silently thanked the Cauldron for leading you here—from the wild, guarded creature you'd been to someone who could finally be herself, completely and without fear, in the arms of a male who cherished every version of you that had ever existed.

End.

Note: hope you enjoyed! I had fun writing this. ❤️

[womanofwords]

Everybody's Favourite (Part 3)

Over the next few days, you and Penguin get really close. Penguin teaches you the ins and outs of business: branding, advertising, pricing. You encourage Penguin to invest in something that people could go to during the day. "Maybe an ice cream place or coffee," you mused. "You can name it whatever you want."

Penguin looked at you with glee. "I like the way you think. Helps me be less shadowy."

Word spread about the kidnapping scarily fast. "Oswald, are the rumours true? Do you really have one of the Wayne kids here?" the Riddler asked, dropping by.

"Yes, Y/N Wayne. I've been trying to get their idiot father to believe that they're in my custody, but no dice." Penguin dropped his voice to a terrified whisper. "Half of my collection has been organised in five hours! Do you have any idea how large my collection is?"

"Yeesh. Do they know that Bruce Wayne is being about as useful as a map drawn in invisible ink?"

"They must have some clue. They were supposed to have been gone by now, but they're still here. They even made a joke about their family wouldn't notice that they were gone."

Penguin spluttered as he gestured at you. You were asleep in a pile of blankets in lieu of a bed. "How would they not know that this little angel was gone?"

"Maybe they really don't care. Not sure how they could come to that conclusion." Riddler looked at you with a small smile. "You know, I have a bet that you can keep Y/N here for two weeks straight without acting suspiciously or trying to hide them and even continuing to ask for ransom money, and they won't do a thing."

"Does the two weeks start now or from the day of the kidnapping? Because they've already been here for four days."

"From the day of the kidnapping. I'm not a monster. Also, what do you want if you win?"

"I'll cross that bridge when we get to it. Until then, I'm ordering more Indian food. I don't know how to cook."

(PAUSE)

Time went on, and more of Batman's rogues gallery paid a visit to the captive Wayne child as if it were a baby shower.

Two-Face was the first to arrive. "You can't be serious. Brucie Wayne didn't want to collect his child? Didn't you tell him?"

"We sent messengers, we called him, we sent stuff in the mail, he just thinks it's a prank." Penguin threw his hands up with exasperation. "Nothing against the little dove, but this is a little longer than I thought."

"I'll tell him," Dent volunteered. "Me and him go way back. Once he knows that it's serious, he'll arrive with something. Either the bat or the ransom, but something."

"Go ahead, but you're gonna lose me a bet," Riddler said nonchalantly.

"What's happening?" you asked.

"We're . . . having some difficulties contacting your family, dollface," Two-Face said. "They're not taking this very seriously."

"They don't take me very seriously," you snarked. "It's not you, it's me. I'm not exactly on the list of people they're concerned about. Titus ranks higher than me."

"Is Titus another kid?" Riddler asked. "No offence, but he has so many."

"None taken, Riddler. Titus is Damian Wayne's dog." You stretched and straightened out your clothes. "You're going to have to put up with me for a while longer. Also, do you have some spare clothes I can wear? I've been wearing my school uniform for the last four days straight and I'm beginning to stink."

"I'll call Harley about it," Penguin said.

(PAUSE)

The clown prince of crime arrived with his harlequin. "You kidnapped Bruce Wayne's child? Penguin, I didn't know you had it in you."

"Where is the little sweetums?" Harley burst in with bags laden with clothes. "I wasn't sure what they'd like, so I bought everything!"

"Uh . . . hi," you said, waving awkwardly. "Who's that for?"

"You, sweetums!" Harley said. "I also brought soap, toothpaste, shampoo, general hygiene products. Everything you'll need to live here."

"Thank you." You smiled up at the jester. "I just wish my folks could be as nice to me as you guys are."

Harley's smile dropped. "I . . . take it they're not the most attentive."

"They haven't bothered noticing my ransom, why would they notice toothpaste?" you snarked.

Joker and Harley looked at each other with horror and pity before turning back to Reader. "OK, kiddo, can you tell me what the Waynes are like to you?" Joker asked, his tone softened. "We need details. Lots."

"But not yet! You need a shower first. A long one," Harley ordered. "Here's the bag with all the bath stuff and here's the bag with all the clothes. Once you're dry and dressed, tell us everything."

You looked at Harley with confusion. "You . . . really want to know?"

"Of course!" Harley insisted. "Think of it as talk therapy. While you're in there, I'll call Ivy. She's the best with hair. And Professor Crane, too. You are not going to be alone with all those thoughts, honey. Let me know when you're done so I can get you a snack."

Your head was spinning. All those people would be arriving . . . and all for you.

How would you ever get used to this?

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3 <- You are here

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Part 13

Part 14

Taglist: @tinybrie

[woso-dreamzzz]

Flag V

Frida Maanum x Emma Lennartsson x Child!Reader

Summary: You meet the Arsenal girls for the first time

"Did you hear that Fleming from Chelsea just adopted a kid?" Leah says as she sits down at breakfast one day after the international break.

"Huh?"

"Yeah, Millie told me," She continues," Apparently, she'd been fostering this little girl for a while and none of the team knew."

"It's crazy," Beth agrees," It'd be like if me and Viv adopted a baby and none of you knew about. Just like came into training one day like, here they are."

"Adopting is really rewarding," Frida says absentmindedly, reaching for some of the jam across the table," Maybe Fleming just wanted to get used to it. It's a whole new situation to get used to, trust me."

"Alright Frida," Leah laughs, clapping her on the back," But I think adopting a dog is different to adopting a baby."

Frida frowns. "Yeah, I know. What did you think I was talking about?"

"You and your girlfriend's dog? Is that not what we're talking about?"

"I meant our daughter. Why would you think I meant our Jordan?"

"Your...Your daughter?"

"My daughter, yes," Frida says," Y/n."

"You...You have a daughter."

"Yes...Leah, are you okay? You look a little pale..."

"You..She...Frida, did you Fleming us?! How is this the first time I'm hearing of this baby of yours?"

Frida frowns. "I mean, she's not really much of a baby anymore. She's in that phase of trying to climb everything. Emma has to keep such a close eye on her."

"Can we see pictures?" Lia, who up until this point has remained silent, asks.

"Blimey," Leah whistles," And you're sure she's adopted? Frida, she looks just like you!"

"Really?" Frida studies the picture she selected of you, one of you cuddled up against Emma's body in your soft, linen dress and a flower crown on your head. "I think she looks more like Emma."

"You have to bring her to a game," Beth insists," She's able to travel right? Like she's got a passport and stuff?"

"I guess I can ask Emma to bring her," Frida says," But I don't see what the big deal is? I'm sure I've spoken about her before."

But apparently not because word spreads quickly through the whole team who all insist that they've got no recollection of Frida ever even mentioning you before.

Which, of course, means everyone insists on meeting you so here Frida is, waiting at arrivals for Emma to walk out of baggage claim.

She catches sight of the pram first where you're fast asleep, gripping tightly to whatever toy you've selected from your collection to join you on the journey.

Emma comes into view next, expertly wheeling the suitcase in one hand and the pram in the other.

"Hi," Frida says, a little breathless that you're finally both here," I missed you. Both of you."

Emma draws her into a soft kiss. "We missed you too. Isn't that right, squish?"

"Missed Mama," You slur, only now waking up.

"She slept the entire way," Emma explain as Frida straps you into the car seat," She didn't sleep much last night. She was too excited."

Frida laughs. "I hope she sleeps tonight as well."

"She will," Emma assures her," But I think we're going to have to deal with that little visitor in bed."

Emma's right, of course, because in the middle of the night, Frida feels you slot between them as you wiggle under the covers. But she gets her wish as well as you sleep through the rest of the night in their bed and rise the next day with all the excitement you can fit into your little body.

"Are you sure you're okay with taking her today?" Emma asks," I can keep her while I do my shopping."

"I've got her," Frida insists, adjusting you on her hip," The girls are excited to meet her. You get your shopping done."

"Alright," Emma finally agrees," I love you guys."

"Love you too. Squish, tell Mummy you love her."

"Love you!" You parrot back as Emma drives off.

"Alright," Frida says," Let's get you ready to meet everyone."

It's not the first time Frida's seen you in her Arsenal shirt before but it's the first time everyone else will.

Your life is in Sweden most of the time and then in Norway too when you visit Frida's parents. This is your first time in England and Emma made sure you were suitably dressed for the occasion.

"Oh my god," Leah says," Look at the cheeks on her!"

You giggle as a finger reaches out to poke them like your mummies do when you're being particularly cute.

"A good eater then?" Kim asks as everyone fawns over you.

You soak up all the attention, especially when wrapped gifts are presented to you teasingly.

"We had issues at first," Frida admits," She was underweight when we found her but she's a good weight now."

"She looks so content," Kim says," Motherhood suits you, Frida."

"Really?"

"Definitely. I can tell she just adores you."

"Mama!" You say suddenly, shaking a wrapped box in curiosity," Help, please?"

"How about we find a table and then we can open all your new presents?"

The team have really spoiled you - clearly trying to make up for missed birthdays and Christmases - and you seem just so excited for every gift you unwrap.

"Got to give her the full kit," Leah says with a wink as yet another presents contains an Arsenal kit.

"She has the kit at home."

"Yeah but this one has her name on it. If Fleming's daughter has a Chelsea kit with her name then the Arsenal children must have Arsenal kits with their names on it too!"

"Children?"

Leah jerks her chin over to where Beth and Viv sit with you on the floor as you show off one of your new toys.

"You should have seen Beth's face light up when you spoke about adopting. She looked interested. I guarantee those two will be thinking about it at some point soon. Might as well set the precedent now."

"I will make sure she wears it to the match," Frida promises just as you get up and toddle over.

"Mama!" You say," You see my new puppy? Looks like our Jordan!"

Frida smiles as she lifts you up onto her lap. "You know what? It does!"

"I call him little Jordan!"

"That's a perfect name, squish."

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 25 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Career Day arrives, and you definitely have the coolest collection of adults visiting your classroom. Bradley orchestrates a surprise, hoping you don't realize it's just a cover for something even bigger.

Warnings: fluff, adult language, 18+

Length: 4200 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

You were up before your alarm, too excited to stay in bed for a minute longer. When you tried to roll away from Bradley, his knee dug into your butt, and you groaned.

"Morning, Gorgeous," he grunted, arm wrapping around you like a boa constrictor until you were snug up against him again.

"Bradley," you whined, trying to squirm away. "I'm sore from being spanked."

You could hear his soft rumble of laughter as he released you, and you dragged yourself out of the other side of the bed. You weren't sure how you were going to make it through the day like this. You didn't even know if you'd be able to sit down. Still, you couldn't stop the smile that bloomed across your face, and soon Bradley was wearing one to match.

"Maybe we should have saved that for tonight," you whispered, gingerly rubbing your butt as you pulled your most capable looking dress from the closet you now shared with Bradley.

"We can revisit that activity tonight if you'd like." Just when you were about to argue there was no way that was going to happen again just yet, he let his hand slip down to the right side of your butt which went untouched last night. He gave you a little squeeze and whispered, "I'll get breakfast ready. I want you one hundred percent ready to go for Career Day, Baby."

The way he strutted around the house naked was highly distracting, but you had so much to do. You wanted to make sure your hair and makeup were perfect, and you wanted to get to your classroom early. So you got started, and at some point when you were in the bathroom, Bradley must have put his flight suit on. He was wearing it when he knocked on the door, and you told him to come in while you rooted around under the sink, trying to find the lotion you wanted to use.

"What are you doing?" he asked, panic lacing his voice as you glanced up at him.

"Looking for my lotion. The stuff in the blue bottle." You turned back to your task, and a second later, Bradley was in front of you, snatching up the exact thing you were looking for.

"This it?" he asked anxiously, nudging the cabinet closed with his knee as he handed it to you.

"Thanks," you muttered, wondering why he was acting strange as you smoothed the lotion all over your hands and arms.

"Let's eat breakfast before you're late for your big day."

You wanted to argue that it was his big day, too. He could do anything for his presentation, and your kids would eat it up. But for you, Career Day was always a chance for the fourth grade teachers to show off who they were able to get in their classroom. Who had the coolest adults. It was ridiculous, but you were still excited about it.

Bradley's idea of breakfast was an enormous bowl of cereal, toast, muffins and a banana. "I don't have time to finish all of this!"

"I'll eat whatever you don't eat," he promised. And he did. You watched him inhale the rest of the food as you double checked that you had everything in your bag, and then the two of you went out to his Bronco with travel mugs of coffee.

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

Bradley was nervous about today. He couldn't pinpoint one reason why, because there were several. First of all, he'd spent so much time in your classroom already, maybe it wasn't the best idea to have him scheduled for last out of all the Career Day participants. The kids were bound to find him stale at some point, and Marty had just scratched the surface of his many talents. He didn't want it to be his fault if things ended on a low note for you today.

Second, he was already hoping and praying that Natasha was going to be able to distract you the way that he wanted. He needed a little bit of help from your students to make this extra special. 

And third, just because he thought his mom's retro ring from the early 1980s was cool didn't mean you would. But that was really the least of his concerns. He wanted you to have it if you agreed to marry him, but he'd buy you something else if you so desired.

"You're so quiet," you mused softly, and Bradley almost forgot he was holding your hand while he drove. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he said before clearing his throat. "Just going over what I want to talk to your kids about."

"What are you going to talk about today?"

He smiled and tilted the sun visor a little bit more. "Remember that video I posted on YouTube before I left in December? When I said there would be a quiz? I'm going to quiz them on everything they've learned with me. Stuff from the video and their field trip. Things I talked about in my letters. I'm going to try to stump them."

"I don't think you'll be able to," you said, lacing your fingers with his. "They hang on your every word. Just like I do."

Oh, he wanted you to have an engagement ring on that hand in the worst way. His life had changed so much since your first letter, but he knew pretty early on that he had feelings for you. And he knew as soon as the first date that he would end up here, completely in love with you.

When he pulled into your school parking lot, Bradley drove past all of the empty spots to drop you off at the front doors. "Aren't you coming with me?" you asked him, but he shook his head.

"I don't want to be a distraction for your morning routine. I'll wait out here for Nat and Marty and come inside with everyone else at nine."

"Okay," you replied, but you were looking straight ahead now. "I'm a little nervous."

"Why?" He shifted into park and reached for you.

You sighed against him. "It's ridiculous, but I want my guests to be the coolest ones. The other fourth grade teachers all rolled their eyes at me for even writing to an aviator in the first place."

"Joke's on them. You can't even get rid of me now," Bradley murmured, making you laugh. "You've got Nat and Marty. And one of your kids' parents owns a pizza shop. You're golden, Baby. Coolest fourth grade teacher ever."

You kind of rolled your eyes at him, but you smiled and kissed him before you climbed out. "I'll see you inside."

Bradley had a while to wait for Nat and Marty to arrive, and he considered running to Starbucks for his newest addiction. Instead he grabbed the bag that was tucked underneath his seat and started to sort through all the notes inside. It was a sizable collection now. All of the letters you and your students wrote to him made a stack a few inches thick. Some of the pages were creased and worn, but they would work perfectly for what he had planned.

When Nat tapped on his window, he jolted, sending pages flying.

"Why are you so jumpy?" she asked, opening his door.

"Jesus, Nat. I already told you I was anxious about this!"

She huffed out a breath. "And I already told you that you could put in literally no effort at all, and she would say yes. You could hand her a ring and grunt, 'Marriage?' and she would start planning a wedding."

Bradley laughed as he organized the pages again. "I want it to be special. Butterflies and all that shit. She makes me feel incredible."

His best friend leaned against the door, crossing her arms over her flight suit, and asked, "You still want Marty and I to help with your distraction scheme?"

"I need you to."

"You got it."

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

Your students were on their best behavior. The guests were all excited to be there. Bradley kept smiling at you. Your rear end was still sore, but it turns out there was no reason to be nervous at all. Even the music teacher and school librarian decided to hang out in your classroom for part of the day, because your kids talked it up so much.

Nia's mom, a pediatrician, gave a presentation about keeping your body healthy. Oliver's dad talked about designing skyscrapers and then let the kids build with Lego blocks. Now you were listening to Natasha talk about the challenges of landing a fighter jet on an aircraft carrier, and even the parents were enthralled.

"What do you think would happen if I flew in too low?" she asked, pointing at Jackie who had her hand up.

"You could like miss the deck?"

"Absolutely," Nat replied. "And what if I came in from too high?"

Jayden's hand shot up this time. "You could crash!"

"I could indeed," Nat answered seriously. Five more hands shot up in the air as she talked about velocity, and Marty, who was standing next to you at the back of the room, leaned in closer to you.

"Why are you making me go after Lieutenant Trace?" he whispered as she engaged with the kids.

You smiled at the older man in his khaki shirt and dark pants. "You can hold your own, Marty. Trust me." You knew for a fact he arrived with two tool boxes and some engine parts you couldn't even identify. You were already excited for what that meant. He would be just fine.

Suddenly the room erupted in applause as Natasha finished up, and you made your way up to the front of the classroom. "Thank you so much, Lieutenant Trace. Next we will hear from our favorite mechanic whom we met on our field trip to North Island. Marty needs a few minutes to set up, so in the meantime, Nia's mom is going to share some healthy snacks that we can enjoy."

You were going to go stand with Bradley while your classroom dissolved into the soft hum of conversation, but Nat cornered you first. "I just got a text from Maverick about something so exciting, but I need to run it past you first. Can we talk in the hallway?"

"Uh, sure." 

You looked around the room before deciding on asking Ms. Masters the librarian to help you out. "Would you mind monitoring things for a couple minutes?"

"I'll take care of it," she promised with a nod, and you knew everyone was in good hands as you slipped out into the hallway with your boyfriend's best friend.

"How would you feel about a flyover today?" 

You stared at Natasha, blinking silently at her words. "A flyover?"

"Yeah," she replied casually.

"Like over the school?"

"Mmhmm," she hummed, buffing her nails on her flight suit.

"Are you serious right now?"

"Yes."

You felt like she was being kind of purposely slow to give details as your mind swirled. "You're talking actual Naval aircrafts?"

"Of course," she said with a grin. "I mean, once again, it would be Hangman and Coyote flying them, but even those two can handle holding a simple formation."

Now you were really excited. "How is this actually happening?" you whispered.

"Bradley and I asked Mav about it the other day," she said with a shrug. "Any chance we can walk out to the parking lot and make sure there's enough room for everyone to stand safely?"

When you tried to peek through the rectangular window in your classroom door, Natasha slid her body in front of it. When you tried to look over her head, she seemed to grow several inches as she went up on her tiptoes. 

"Yeah... we can go look at the parking lot." 

You were wearing your key card on your lanyard, and Ms. Masters could probably keep your class under control for an entire day if you needed her to.

"Well then, let's go."

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

As soon as you walked out of the room with Nat, Bradley jumped to action. It wasn't his intention to steamroll Nia's mom or her packs of apple slices, but he had something important he needed the kids to help him with. Marty was setting up some sort of demonstration with tool boxes on the desks in the front row, but Bradley grabbed the stack of papers he brought with him and cleared his throat.

"Do all of you think you can help your pen pal out with something for a few minutes?" Eyes went wide, backs went straight, and Oliver even saluted him as he started handing out the papers. "I brought all of the letters you kiddos sent me last year when I was deployed. There are a lot of them, and I'm going to use them for something special. A surprise for your teacher."

"What kind of surprise?" Henry asked, crunching through a piece of apple.

"I can't tell you that," Bradley replied with a wink. "It's classified."

"Are you really going to marry our teacher someday?" Violet asked as he handed her three of the handwritten notes.

Bradley froze, unsure how to answer. "If she wants to marry me, then I definitely want to marry her."

"She wants to marry you," Violet said easily. "What are we doing with all of these letters?"

"Paper airplanes," Bradley announced, holding up the last sheet of paper. Even the parents and Marty seemed amused now. "We are folding them up into the best looking paper airplanes we can make within the next six minutes or so. Watch how I fold this one, and then work on as many as you can, okay?"

He folded it up using the top of your desk when he needed to smooth the creases, and then he held it up for everyone to see. "Start folding!"

There was a flurry of activity as he walked around helping, and even the librarian and music teacher were getting involved. Bradley whipped through a few himself before walking around the room with an open trash bag.

"When you're done, drop them in here."

"But what are they for?" Oliver asked, dropping three airplanes into the bag. "Are you going to have airplane races with our teacher?"

"Not exactly. All of you are really doing me a favor here though. I promise."

"Do you love our teacher?" Jayden asked. Bradley thought maybe he should have felt silly admitting it in front of all of the adults, but he did it anyway.

"I absolutely do. I'm going to use the paper planes for a little project to show her just how much, okay?" He got several nods in response as he checked the time. You and Nat left seven minutes ago, and he knew he couldn't hope for much more than that. "Time's up! toss everything into the bag. And you can't tell her about any of this!"

You were smiling when you walked back in with Nat. He thought that things must have gone well for everyone as he tied up the bag. Marty was ready to give his presentation, and the kids all scuttled back to their seats.

Now he had everything he needed to make this the best weekend of his life.

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

Marty looked a little nervous as he started out by greeting everyone and telling them a bit about himself. He told your class that he had a lot of fun the last time he saw everyone on the naval base. You already knew about his decades-long Naval career, and your students already thought he was extremely cool, but he was about to get even cooler.

"I brought three identical intake manifold pieces from jets exactly like the ones that Lieutenant Bradshaw and Lieutenant Trace fly. Does anyone know how they work?"

Several of your students raised their hands, and you watched as Marty walked around the room with the engine parts and let them answer his questions to the best of their ability before he took over.

"This is fascinating." You turned to your right where Ms. Masters was watching Marty, completely absorbed. "I can't believe you got military clearance to take your class to visit North Island," she whispered.

You were about to tell her that it was really all thanks to Lieutenant Bradshaw when you realized she was perhaps looking at Marty even more than she was paying attention to the engine parts in his rough hands. You cleared your throat softly and said, "You know, meeting Marty was probably the highlight of that whole day. And that includes touring the air traffic control tower."

"Really?" she murmured.

"Mmhmm. He put on a brilliant workshop for us. And he's just the sweetest man. Really takes the time to connect with the kids."

If you knew one thing about Ruby Masters, you knew she loved it when kids got excited about learning something new. And if you knew one thing about women in general, most of them loved a man in uniform. Right now, Marty was absolutely rocking his ensign khakis and his pins, and Ms. Masters stood up a little straighter when he turned your way with a smile on his face.

"Okay, time for some fun," Marty said as he headed back to the front of the classroom. "One manifold has been put together correctly." He held it up in the air once again. "Two are in pieces on these desks. I'm going to take this one apart and put it back together while you watch. Pay close attention, because after that, we're going to have a race."

Your kids looked absolutely delighted, and you had to ask Oliver not to sit on his desk while he watched the demonstration. Even all of the adults in the room were watching intently as Marty worked with a wrench from one of the toolboxes until he finished reassembling everything.

"Pretty simple, right?" he asked. Your kids all nodded and answered yes. "Who thinks they can race me?" You gasped in delight when a few of your students raised their hands. "What if I made it a little easier? What if I was blindfolded?"

"No way," you whispered, meeting Bradley's eyes across the room where he was holding a garbage bag for some reason. "Is he serious?" you whispered.

"He's so serious," Bradley confirmed, and sure enough, Marty pulled a handkerchief from his pocket.

"I'll let your teacher pick my opponent," Marty said as he tied the square of fabric so it was covering his eyes.

You needed to pick a child who would be a gracious winner or loser, but you were almost convinced Marty was going to be able to beat any of them. "How about... Jayden."

You set him up next to Marty, making sure he had all of the tools he needed lined up. Then you gave them a countdown and stepped away again. The room erupted in cheers as Jayden puzzled his way through the task. Marty seemed to be moving smoothly, using muscle memory to do something he'd done hundreds of times before.

"Oh," Ms. Masters said. "It seems like Marty is... really good with his hands."

Your lips parted in surprise. "I'm sure he must be," you replied, trying not to squeal as she smiled and covered her face in embarrassment.

It turns out Jayden didn't stand a chance. "Marty wins!" boomed Bradley's voice, and you watched as the older man peeked out from his blindfold with a hesitant little smile on his face.

You were still applauding his effort as you thanked him for joining your classroom today. You were almost overwhelmed by how wonderfully the day seemed to be going. Bradley was your last guest, and then there was the flyover that Nat promised.

"Our last guest really doesn't need an introduction," you said with a laugh.

"Is it Lieutenant Bradshaw?" Oliver asked, ready to climb on top of his desk again as your boyfriend strolled up to stand next to you.

"Yes, of course it's Lieutenant Bradshaw." You smiled at him and said, "Take it away, Lieutenant."

There was a little smirk on his lips as he turned away from you to address your kids. "I know you all learned a lot about aviation this year, but right now, we're going to see just how much. I hope you all remembered that I said I was going to give you a quiz."

"Not a quiz!" complained Jackie, but Bradley held up his hands in mock surrender.

"If you pass, I can promise with one hundred percent certainty that you'll love the prize."

"There's a prize?" Violet asked, perking up.

"A secret prize," Bradley confirmed.

"Alright," Oliver said, still a little skeptical. "Let's do it."

Bradley started calling out questions, letting your students deliberate as a group to come up with an answer, and you leaned against the back wall near where Marty was packing up his toolboxes. 

"That was absolutely fascinating," you heard Ms. Masters tell him softly. "I'm Ruby Masters, the Mira Mesa Elementary librarian."

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Marty with pink cheeks, wiping his palm on his shirt before shaking her hand. "It's nice to meet you," he whispered while Bradley continued to try to stump your kids. "This is the first time I've ever been to a career day."

"Well, you're a natural with the kids," she replied, still holding his hand. "And obviously very smart. I'm kind of new to the topic of aviation, but always interested in learning more."

"Oh. There's an endless amount to learn," he muttered, staring at Ruby like he couldn't look away.

"If you're ever free and feel like it, maybe you could show me how you rebuilt that manifold so quickly?"

Bradley had your kids taking turns writing at the board now, but you couldn't stop eavesdropping as you witnessed Marty go silent. The crash and burn was painful as he just stood there while Ruby finally extracted her hand. You were silently begging Marty to say something. Anything. But the seconds passed, and Ruby took a step away from him toward the door.

"Okay, no worries. It was nice to meet you." She gave you a forced smile as she slipped out into the hallway, and you rounded on Marty who was standing there like someone just stole his favorite toy at recess.

"I don't mean to overstep, so please feel free to tell me to mind my own business," you whispered.

"Uh. Okay?"

"Marty... Ms. Masters is hot and single, and she was flirting with you. She wanted you to ask for her phone number."

His eyes went wide as he gaped at you. "She did? Are you sure?"

You cradled your forehead and groaned softly. "I'm positive. She can't have gone far. The library is out and to the left, and then another left."

He nodded before dashing out of the room, leaving you alone just as Bradley said, "Are you sure you're all still in fourth grade? Or is this a grad school level physics class? You win. I can't even stump you. Come see me or Lieutenant Trace to get ear plugs for the Super Hornet flyover."

Your classroom was probably louder than the jet engine would be.

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

The whole school was buzzing with excitement as everyone emptied out onto the lawn and the parking lot. Something must have happened earlier, because Marty and the school librarian were standing awfully close together in all the chaos. As far as Bradley could recall, he'd never seen that man smile so much before.

"Ear plugs in! And then hands over your ears!" Natasha shouted, giving a safety demonstration. "Do it just how I do it!"

It was almost time. Bradley tried to keep the hand holding and cheek kisses to a minimum, but it was so hard when you were standing right next to him. You looked tired but happy as you put your orange, industrial ear plugs in place. With a dreamy look on your face, you leaned up and kissed him right on the lips, and that familiar roar of an F/A-18 engine approached. 

Bradley put his own earplugs in before the sound of the jet wash hit. You and everyone else stared up at the sky where his colleagues were flying overhead, but he kept his eyes on you. He was in love. He had Carole's ring and the paper planes. He had all of these words that he wanted to say to you, but mostly he wanted to promise that he'd feel the same way about you forever. And he wanted to hear you say the same thing.

As soon as you had your ear plugs out again, you threw your arms around his neck with a huge smile. "Thank you, Bradley."

"For what? I barely did anything."

You laughed and shook your head. "You did everything."

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

I love Career Day. Marty is the man. The oblivious man, but the man nonetheless. And our boy Bradley is ready to go! Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 26

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[i-yap]

I love the idea of jason being like super weird when he gets into a relationship with y/n

Cuz bro was on the streets then with bruce (aka loner dad) and then the main teen years where we learn about relationships and stuff he was being tortured abd trained to be an assassin.

So when he gets into a relationship, he tries to do something or act a certain boyfriend-y way for you. And he has only 4 options -

1. Batman and catwoman the super loner who doesn't say anything and the girl just keeps making sexual innuendos and steals stuff...which obviously doesn't work out cuz u(prolly) don't steal and he likes to talk to you

2. Bruce wayne the playboy- now imagine jasom trying to be smooth at making sexual innuendos ..he can't. At least not in the start and he lacks the subtlety and honestly he is too infatuated he fucks it up real often. " want some of my ice cream" " well sweetheart , I know some ice you can cream" in a weird rich voice and you're just standing there like wtf . Don't get me wrong he can be super vulgar and upfront but he gets all in his head and bruce wayne slips out.

3. NIGHTWING- man that's like the only person around him who has relationships. But noghtwing is like sunshine and jason really is not. So while nightwing aka Mr pitch perfect serenading his girl works and Mr acrobat from circus pulling his girl into a full on waltz works...it rlly doesn't for jason.

4. Books - bro reads Jane austen, bro likes the classics and therefore he will use those books to find gestures for you. Now once he got u a horse cause you were bored. And while that worked for the fictional Victorian housewife...not so much for a busy person in Gotham.

And he gets so confused with such normal things. "Could you Get me some milk" suddenly your entire kitchen is filled with all the different brands and types of milk a person can buy- 2 of each so u don't run out of it cuz Mr lover had no idea what "some" means.

This is just when he overthinks or gets jealous or insecure . Otherwise he is collected and his own unique way of showing love. But he just messes up sometimes and it's the cutest thing everrr.

[hysteria-things]

Reverse countertop scenario where instead of you getting eaten out while seated on the countertop, Matt gets sucked off 🫣

TEMPTATION (part one)

𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐅!𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dilf!matt x babysitter!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: one heated moment crosses between you and forbidden desire.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, swearing, slight size kink if you squint, oral (male receiving), subtle face slapping (he taps her on the cheek once), praising

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2,766

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: first dilf!matt fic of the collection :D

(dilf!matt au originally by @luvs4matt)

you’ve met matt through one of your mom’s work friends, who was talking about how her son needed a babysitter because of how busy his work has gotten. against your will, your mother gave you the job, saying that it’ll be a fun and new experience.

because you like kids, you genuinely didn’t mind. you’ve only been nannying for a few weeks now, and the routine isn’t that bad.

you drive to his house every weekday, arriving at seven on the dot. you wake up his five-year-old daughter (who is already fond of you) and make her breakfast along with getting her ready to drop her off at school.

she’s a cutie who looks a lot like her father—with his blue eyes and brunette hair—but she has a bubblier personality and is much more talkative. on the other hand, matt keeps to himself, and rarely says more than three sentences to you: “good morning.” “don’t forget to pack her lunch.” “see you later.”

on this particular day, a couple of hours after dropping his little girl off, you realized you had forgotten something at matt’s house. cursing to yourself when you notice, you drive back to sleuth your way into grabbing what you left and leaving.

however, when you walk through the door, a familiar figure is kneeling in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up to reveal his tattoos and grunting as he’s fixing something under the sink.

you pause, genuinely surprised. he always leaves for work when you arrive at his place at your scheduled time. today, he hid from you upstairs the whole morning that you didn’t even acknowledge he was home. you stare at the gruff thirty-year-old for a few beats, not knowing if you should make yourself known or just sneakily retrieve your item and head back out.

so, instead, you swallow a lump in your throat, and start walking slowly to the living room hoping he doesn’t notice you. with the short weeks that you’ve been working for him, you’ve always felt intimidated by his presence. matt doesn't immediately catch on, but as he listens to footsteps getting closer to him, he perks up. he turns around, just in time to see you starting to walk toward the living room.

he raises a brow, his arms now crossed. “i thought you left already.”

jolting from his voice, you turn around to see him still in the kitchen by the island, but he’s gotten closer to you. “i-i forgot my wallet.” you stutter, scratching the back of your neck. “i’m sorry. i’ll get out of your hair when i grab it, i just didn’t know you stayed home today.”

he eyes you, looking up and down in silence for a second. he lets out a groan, not exactly happy that you're back here, but he's not angry. just… annoyed. “when did you realize you forgot your wallet?”

your face burns up when he looks at you like that, his eyes mesmerizing but also frightening at the same time. your anxiety rushes through your veins, fingers playing with the necklace around your neck to try and calm your nerves.

he’s just so intimidating.

“after i dropped evelyn off at school, but i didn’t have time to grab it until now.” you start, trying to not sound shaky. “she had a rough morning getting ready today, so i was scattering my stuff everywhere trying to help her get back on her little feet. i’m sorry again. i’ll leave the moment i grab it.”

matt lets out a frustrated sigh when he hears about his daughter having a morning like that. “i thought i heard the commotion from upstairs…” he trails off. he takes a moment to breathe and to think, looking you up and down again, trying to figure out why you're shaking. “you're nervous.”

“it was a weird morning.” you still fiddle with your necklace. “other than her tantrum, she was good.”

a huff escapes from his nose, still looking at your figure as he thinks. you’re so damn small compared to him. it's almost adorable in a way he won't admit to himself. “she had a tantrum this morning? why? what started it?”

looking around the room, you shrug. “it was typical friday stuff.” you say, still nervous that you’re talking to matt rather than hearing three sentences from him. “she didn’t want to get out of bed, then she didn’t like the clothes i picked, whined about how she didn’t want to go to school, then she started crying when i carried her backpack to the car when she wanted to carry it.” you think back to this morning before continuing. “we were also running late and that makes my brain a mess, hence why i forgot my wallet, but after a small pep talk when i strapped her into her car seat, she got better.”

the man nods as you explain the events from earlier. you were pretty, in his opinion—he was looking at you from head to toe. a thought seems to hit him, and he bites the inside of his cheek. his next sentence comes out in a much more gruff tone. “come here.”

your eyes grow wide as you blink at him, your heart rate picking up from nerves. “w-what?” you stammer.

letting out a soft sigh, he repeats himself. “you heard me. come. here.”

when you slowly start to walk over to him, you rub the sweat from your palms onto your jeans. you don’t get too close, but you’re not too far, either. he watches as you walk over, his eyes not leaving your body. the thought that he could easily pick you up with one arm in an instant makes him laugh internally. you stop about a foot or so in front of him, standing there with wide eyes. “closer.”

you put your shaky hands behind your back, shuffling even closer to him with a million thoughts running through your brain. did you do something wrong with evelyn? did you forget something important that you needed to bring to school for her? are you going to be fired for forgetting your stupid wallet?

matt’s eyes dart all over your face as you step closer, his jaw clenching for a moment as his eyes linger on yours, then your hair, your nose, your mouth, then your body again. you are so small. it’s very clear with the way you’re shaking and the anxiety clear on your face that you are nervous. “closer.” he says again, his eyes flicking to your necklace for a moment.

smirk tugs at his lips as you step closer, his eyes locked onto you. you’re now standing directly in front of him as he leans on the counter, his height is much more intimidating up close, but you can’t make yourself pull away. it’s like he has a magnetic pull, causing you to stare at him with awe.

he watches your every move and the way you tremble. “you’re shaking.”

“i-i just want to grab my wallet. if i interrupted something important, i’m sorry, it won’t happen again.”

the chuckle in his throat is ticklish as you struggle to get any words out. “take a deep breath. calm down.”

surprised by what he said, you somehow listen and take a couple of deep breaths. well, he is the father to a toddler, after all. you’re sure he deals with a lot of temper tantrums that involve guidance in breathing. after a few inhales and exhales, you calm down just a smidge. “i’m sorry.”

matt watches as you finally start calming down, a slight sense of satisfaction washing over him as you do. he’s not exactly sure why, but he liked watching your shaky body slowly come together again. “you don’t need to keep apologizing, y/n.”

“sorry.” you reply, mentally punching yourself in the face when you say the word. “it’s a habit.”

although, your name rolling off of his tongue has between your legs tingle, but you try to blink away the dirty thoughts and ignore it.

he scoffs. you are so damn polite; it’s almost cute. “stop apologizing.” he orders, bringing his hand up to cup your cheek, his brows furrowing as his thumb grazes your lip. “how old did you say you are again?”

your breath hitches when he touches you, but instead of backing away, you stay put. your lashes bat in his direction as he continues to rub on your bottom lip. “twenty-one.” you exhale, as if you were holding your breath this entire time.

“you’re such a pretty young thing.” he whispers, hand moving down to your throat as he gently kneads at the flesh. “you must be so innocent still.”

grunting when he squeezes at your neck, you subconsciously glance down at his groin, where you can see his growing hard-on. your eyes widen, chest heaving and licking your lips. the pooling in the middle of your thighs only escalates, clenching them together.

this is your boss, y/n. stop.

“do you trust me?” he blurts out, a smirk growing wider once he notices you staring. he has you right where he wants you: at his mercy.

“yes.” and that’s true.

he grabs your hips and pulls you closer, leaning into where your noses are touching. “lift your leg.”

complying, his hand reaches under your thigh when you raise your leg to rest on his hips. you gasp, feeling his bulge rub against your clothed clit. he grinds against you swiftly. “you feel that? that’s what you do to me; every single time i see you.”

“fuck.” you exhale, subconsciously rutting your hips more into him to feel more friction.

“dirty girl.” he whispers, one of his hands reaching up to squeeze your breast while the other that’s resting on your thigh moves to the waistband of your pants. “do you want me to touch you here?”

you throw your head back, nipples peeking at his touch. “please.”

matt groans, leaning down to nip at that spot below your ear. a high-pitched whine leaves your lips, his fingers slipping under your panties. the pad of his pointer rubs at your bud, and you moan softly. he keeps leaving wet kisses on your jaw, toying at your clit. “so fucking wet.”

you keep moaning, clenching around nothing when he plays with you faster. this plus the rubbing of his dick against you makes you want more, but you fight it off. he removes his hand after a few seconds, leaving you aching before bringing his fingers to his lips. he laps at your juices, humming approvingly.

then, his eyes darken, voice extra demanding. “get on your knees.”

while you’re getting on your knees, the pumping of your heart is the only thing you seem to hear, matt starting to unbuckle the belt of his jeans. as you patiently wait, he unloosens it and his pants drop to his ankles along with his boxers. your mouth waters at what’s in front of you, being put under matt’s make-believe spell. he’s big—really big—and you can’t help but stare at it longingly.

tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, he smiles a genuine smile. “open your mouth; good girl.” he cups both of your cheeks, sliding his cock agonizingly slow between your lips. he lets out a long groan the more his inches fill your mouth until you gag once his tip nudges at the back of your throat.

“awe.” he coos, wiping some drool at the sides of your lips with his thumb. “that’s not even all of it.”

you bob your head, moaning around his length at how good he feels in your mouth. slurps and gags continue when you go faster.

he grunts and hisses at your sudden change of speed. “ah, slow, slow.” he fists your hair and taps you on the cheek, causing you to wince and stop. “i said slow.”

matt hasn’t had his dick sucked since his ex, which had to have been over a year ago. hell, he hasn’t had sex since her. he was getting sick of his hand doing the pleasure for him, but the warmth of your mouth is a reminder that you’re here.

your eyes tear up when he lets go of your hair, the stinging there for a few seconds before you move again, this time at the slow pace he requested. he nudges your head up, forcing you to look at him through your lashes as you resume to suck him off.

“that’s it.” he exhales with a moan, back pinned against the countertop. “good girl, listening to everything i say.”

he licks his teeth as he stares down at you, your doe eyes going into his soul as you’re stuffed full with his cock. if only he had his phone nearby, he would take a picture of this.

it’s quiet, except for his groaning and the wet sounds. his mouth is agape, his dick disappearing in and out of those plump lips. deep down, he thinks he’s using you to get off, but little does he know, you wanted this as much as he did. it’s like he wants this image engraved into his mind forever.

without even realizing it, you start to bob your head faster again, gulping more of his cock in the process.

“mmph, fuck, wait.” he pants, voice getting higher when his dick twitches. “s-slow down. slow, slow—” he lets out a long groan, grabbing the back of your head to move it down to his pelvis. you gag for the last time, his cum shooting down your throat all at once. you relax your jaw, making his seed easier to swallow. “so fucking good. such a good girl.” he pants again.

when he pushes you off, you cough as you try to catch your breath from being able to breathe again. matt’s still looking at you, but this time with his original stone-cold demeanor. his eyes flick over to the stove clock. “it’s 2:45 now. you should probably start getting ready to grab evelyn soon.”

with that, he pulls up his undergarments, zips them, and walks away.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ❦ ⋆⁺₊⋆

matt’s seen walking towards the front door through the window of the white picket-fenced home when you park the car, and you take a shaky exhale. seeing him after what happened makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand, but you don’t know if it’s in a good or bad way.

because, well, you enjoyed what you two did. a lot.

after another short breath, you get out of the driver's seat to open the back door. avoiding matt forever is impossible, so you’ll just have to toughen up and deal with it.

evelyn’s kicking excitedly, the top straps unbuckled already when you reach to undo the bottom half of her car seat. just as she hops down onto the driveway, the front door opens as if on queue.

of course, she leaves her backpack and the little mermaid water bottle behind as she bolts to her father. “daddy! daddy!” you hear her squeal excitedly, closing and locking the car doors once you grab her school stuff.

matt scoops up evelyn with ease and kisses her on the head. he smiles down at his daughter, asking her a whole bunch of questions about the school day. he nods and pipes in here and there to keep the conversation flowing as his little girl rambles on. you notice how matt gets when he sees evelyn, and his demeanor completely changes. he’s happy and engaged, eyes showing the love he has for her. it’s so fucking adorable.

“what do you want for dinner, missy?” matt asks, adjusting her in his arms when she starts to slip.

you silently watch the interaction, not wanting to ruin their moment as evelyn brings her finger up to her chin to think. it takes her a few seconds, but she says something along the lines of ‘the dinner of champions.’

“dino nuggets and mac and cheese?” he questions with a quirked brow. “but you had that last night.”

evelyn puts her hands together and pouts, giving him the best puppy dog eyes she can muster. unfortunately for her father, that trick will always work on him.

he sighs, setting her down. “i suppose so…”

“can y/n stay for dinner?” evelyn tugs at matt’s pants as she pleads. “pretty please?”

you hesitate with your answer, because you don’t know what’s in store if you stay longer than usual. “oh, i don’t—”

“you should.” matt quirks a brow, turning to face you. “it will be fun, yeah?”

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

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