#things that scared me so much as a child??

[justkitkatthings]

OH MY GOD OR THIS https://www.tumblr.com/justkitkatthings/768357089618903040/i-know-this-isnt-possible-but-just-hear-me-out-a AND READER WHO BECOMES THE ONE WHO INCLUDES SIMON IN EVERYTHING OR IS NOT SNAPPY TOWARDS HIM???

YES ANON THAT'S WHERE I WAS THINKING OF TAKING IT!!! That or making them all in a poly relationship (because I did tag it as that) if I continue this but idk how to write for that, so just lmk what everyone wants because I fear I AM a people pleaser.

ANYWAYS, HERE’S PT 2

———

It was stupid, really. Sure, you had to relearn how to walk and run and drive and kneel down and do a push up, etc etc. But, like, after you did all that (with the help of some physical therapy and Just Dance) it was like nothing changed.

And it wasn't like it was your fault the bottom half of your leg got blown up. The least they could do was let you keep your job!

To make things worse, John, Kyle, and Johnny seemed extra busy nowadays. Or maybe it's just because of your replacement, which John is adamant about you meeting. It’s how you find yourself in the base you used to call home several years ago, with your old family practically smothering you in affection. It was less of you meeting this new guy and more of a reunion, which is how you wanted to keep it.

At least, at first.

You liked having the attention and affection of your three best friends, but you could only stand so many of the longing gazes from the brooding man before you cracked. He looked… kind of hurt, and definitely lonely.

He looked like you, almost.

As much as you tried, you can’t resist those big brown eyes and slumped broad shoulders. The night you finally cracked, everyone was drinking. Your stump was hurting and John, Kyle, and Johnny were too drunk to carry you, so you were stuck with Simon.

He picked you up with ease and you thought that it was done there, until he quietly spoke up.

“Why do you hate me?”

You’ve never heard his voice sound this small and vulnerable before. This wasn’t a big tank of a man asking you that, it was a scared and insecure child. Yep. Yep, definitely looks like you.

“I don’t hate you.” You huff and roll your eyes, but it’s not like you can do much while trapped in his arms.

“You act like it.” He countered with a petulant pout, or what you think is one, covered by the mask.

It's not fair! He can’t do that to you. His stupid pout and his stupid, strong, steady arms were going to be the death of you. He pulled on your heartstrings so hard, he made you take him under your wing (which is ironic, because he’s larger and older than you).

You didn’t act like you hated him for too long after that. Someone finally gave him the comfort he never got from anyone else, you offered him kind words and gentle touches, and now he’s stuck to you like glue. Soon enough, you’re spending more time with him than with John, Kyle, and Johnny.

You can’t say you hate it. The two of you understand each other more than anyone else ever could. It’s not that the other three don’t understand you both, it's just that you understand each other more.

No one will ever take that away from you. No one will ever take him away from you.

[moonjellysfeast]

My Own Galatea- Crybaby x Top Male Reader

cw; (C/n) is Code name, manipulation, abuse, unethical science, dehumanization, Crybaby is @yanderefarm's character

You were probably too young to be involved in such an experiment, not even proper college age nor finished with your classes. But, you were very advanced in your studies, you were still top of your classes despite moving up several grades when you were younger, and they were getting desperate. You remember sitting in the meeting, this company had really only planned to discuss simple matters as a way of showing you how you were expected to interact once you finished school and they actually hired you. They got caught up in more urgent matters and forgot you bore witness to their panic and desperation until you raised a hand to silence the room and flatly announced.

"I have the darling gene... I could probably further his infection. He'd listen to me, I promise" They weren't happy about it, but they were truly desperate, so you were hired.

You first met him in the facility's basement, he was in a large glass room, a small hole cut into the bullet-proof glass to keep you safe when talking with him. You had several psychology classes and so you felt confident in your scheme to make him obedient.

"Hello" You spoke softly and he turned to you, clearly upset, "It's nice to meet you. Do you have a name?"

He glared at you for a bit before walking towards the hole in the glass and quietly grumbling, "I do... A real one..."

You smiled at him, he was only a year or two younger than you, but you would have to treat him more like a child until he knew you were safe. You approached him, ensuring you looked as confident as you felt, you weren't scared of him and he had no need to fear you yet.

"Give me your name, then. We can't be friends unless you tell me at least that much" Your words were laced with honey, he eyed your sweet smile with suspicion and you watched his eyes shift. He was coming around to the idea.

"Elias... I think... no, I am right... I am named Elias..." Even just at the confusion of his name, his eyes were round and damp. You held back the tug of a grin to give him a gentle smile instead.

"You can call me (Y/n). Elias is a beautiful name. It suits you" He looked at you with awe now, like it was the first compliment he'd ever heard, "You know, the people here call me (C/n), isn't that a funny name? Do they call you something like that?"

"Yes. Crybaby... I don't like it" He'd looked so adorable, crouched on the other side of the glass, confessing his thoughts like deep secrets, and watching you with those wet eyes.

You had been completely correct in your assumption that you could further his infection, when you next saw him, his irises were clear heart shapes and he hopped up to greet you at the glass.

"Good morning, Elias~ You seem energetic" You mused as he fidgeted a bit and nodded. "I'd like to play a game today, if you're up for it"

"A game?" He was clearly wary, surely experiments had been done to him in the form of 'games' previously, but he had to trust you.

"It's like simon says. Do you know that game?" he shook his head slowly, "Well, I'm going to tell you to do things, but I only want you to listen when I call you Crybaby, Ok?"

"Why?" He whined

"Because, It'll be fun. Friends play games all the time and we're friends now! We'll start easy; Crybaby, sit down," He sat with little hesitancy, "Very good. Stand up, Crybaby," He stood, "Elias, please come closer"

He walked toward you and you made quite a show of disappointment, causing him to scramble back into place and apologize, already welling up with tears.

"No, no, it's ok. You forgot the rules. Like I said, we're starting easy so it's not a big issue. Crybaby, come here" He hesitated before scrambling to the glass window, tears streaming down his face already.

The games continued each day, once he was good at listening as crybaby, you started referring to Crybaby and Elias as different people, even giving them rules.

"Crybaby doesn't know my name, you only know me as (C/n), right? You pet his head, watching him nod along to your words. "Who am I?"

"(Y)- no... (C/n)..."

"Good boy, you're really learning. I'm sure Elias would be proud of you as well, Crybaby"

You also had begun entering his cell, he adored when you did and would cling to you until you demanded he stop. With becoming so close to him, you also had to begin enforcing all of your rules more strictly.

"(Y/n) I don't kno-" He crumpled to the floor the moment you hand landed on his cheek.

"That's not what you call me, is it, Crybaby?" You sneered as he cradled his cheek and began to tear up again.

"I'm sorry I'm sorry I'msorry- mhhn, Please don't be mad! (C/n), sir, please!" You placed a hand over his own, silencing him.

"I know you didn't mean it, but we can't have you being bad, can we? No, Crybaby, you have to be a good boy and listen to me. Now, you remember where it is, mark the artery I told you to."

He shakily got up and made an x on the mannequin's neck, precisely where you told him to.

"Good boy" you smiled a bit, " We'll have to work on your crying. as much as your name is apt, no one will like you crying so much when you start to actually work..."

There will be more of this fic but I am stuck.

[modmad]

hey so, was SKIP! ever on American TV? and if so, how?????? cuz I am 100% sure that I watched SKIP! on the TV when I was younger, like, an actual child kinda younger. it was like PBS or something showing student animations I guess?? and I was so enamored with it, I was desperately upset that I had no idea where I'd be able to find it again because I didn't know what it was called. and then later on I just happened to read tpoh (cuz i love webcomics) and there it was. right beside everything else. do you have any idea how crazy that is. It was like finding a long lost friend! Anyway that was years ago but I just wanted you to know that, since I don't think I've told you before but I've been following you for years.

Also your doodleduck comics are REALLY GOOD and are my single entry point into that kind of older-ducktales stuff. (also this is kind of random but I think your comic about gladstone and white guilt is one of the better works of art I've seen on that subject matter which I find very impressive)(source: I am black lol) OH AND HOW COULD I FORGET!! The princess and the jester is, like, phenomenally well made both visually and with its writing. It literally gives me CHILLS to read it. Frankly everything you make is so gorgeous, I kind of want to be like you. In the back of my mind when I'm like "what kind of artist do I wanna be?" your little checkered blog icon always pops up eventually haha. ok bye!!

;A;

damn this whole message means a lot to me, and yes! for a short time VFS was airing on a tv channel, I forget which but that was very cool and they gave me 500 dollar bucks which was a huge windfall for impoverished student mod :D :D :D it means so much to me that you like my work and found me again, and that particular duck comic was so scary for me to make but I've had so many wonderfully supportive messages from people like yourself that I'm really glad I stuck to my guns and listened to it. that was another 'seized from beyond by something bigger than myself' story moment... I'm glad it paid off and I hope I can continue to make things that scare me shitless but do some good in the world.

[amberinn]

something between

yess she's so insane and fucked up (having specific one of my friends in mind for this too, tysm for supporting me and accepting me lowkey it's good to have ground you believe to be semi-stable) (attachment issues are real and a bitch)

deemed problematic

ignoring me, because I get in the way of a ship

minor coded (which i will at some point grow out of. I mean I swear a lot, that must mean people would find me at least somewhat scary and mature---- wait, fuck, tommyinnit. oh im doomed.)

get hc'd as something and reduced to the hc

?? people in media usually strive for positive autism representation, right

knowing that I'm on my own journey of actually growing out of being albeist (which I only ever was in the first place, because I was scared of myself)

and somewhere in between where I accept who I am, and sometimes still flaunt stereotypes around trying to half heartedly con (lie/convince) people into believing I deserve some sort of .... I don't know? things? benefits?

and sometimes I double lie, because I actually DO need to (get out of the meeting, because it's getting to me, but I don't want other people to think I'm this weak, so if lie about pretending to lie)

and there will be sides to me, but people WILL at some point think I represent something with me being me

and they'll be displeased it's most likely bad.

I have flaws, like.

lots of them.

I'm like the least kinneable character in existance tbh ;

it's so crazy how that was my first thought when people can p much also reduce me to

pathetic wet cat

angry bitch

child

or something worse, yikes.

"shes so pathetic and bbg i want to torture them" (pls dont im already tortured enough.... ok finneeeeee.... for enrichment)

[penvisions]

by the grit of sandpaper {honor me}

Pairing: Jackson! Joel Miller x F! Reader

Summary: As the seasons change, you and Joel tackle both big things and small that make up life in Jackson. Underlying it all, is one thought that prompts him to craft something he thinks will be even better than the cutting boards you lovingly used every day.

Word Count: 7.4k

Warnings: canon typical language, canon typical violence, heart of gold joel, carpenter joel, woodworking joel, artisan joel, patrol partnership, lots of feelings, angst, hurt and comfort, joel miller's hands need their own warning, joel just needs his own warning actually, arguing, reader gets overwhelmed, reader deals with ptsd and general trauma, mentions of child loss, mentions of lost family / loved ones, winter weather as a trigger, lonliness, reader struggles with seasonal depression, mentions of outbreak day, heated interactions, smut, p in v, unprotected p in v, reader has no canon name but a commonly used nickname, some descriptions f hair length and skin tone are made (they are not set in stone), this may be triggering so please be careful if you are sensitive to any of these, i just want y'all to be safe

A/N: i've had this in my drafts for the longest time and finally got around to finishing it. not gonna lie, i made myself sad with some of it but i think this is a good and realistic depiction of a healthy relationship and dealing with hectic life stuff. so glad to be sharing more of them with y'all, they mean so much to me

ao3 link || series masterlist || navigation || ko-fi

The deep timber of a guffaw bursts into the bright blue sky, scaring a collection of birds into flight from where they were searching for food by the water’s edge.

“Oh, shut it!” You shout, no heat behind your words but bubbling laughter, water sparkling all over you as it soaks into skin and fabric alike.

Joel uses one hand to mime zipping his mouth, even as the corners of his lips lift up into a grin. He’s glowing in the midday sun, bronze skin on display as he mirrors your choice of a tank top to stave off some of the heat. Joel is standing proudly at the shore, pebbles and larger rocks firm under his sturdy boots. His weight has accented itself, the stones shifting to accommodate him. He’s a vision, fishing pole in the thick curl of his hand, propping it up on his hip in an almost suggestive manner. His other hand steadies the pole, the line cast out shaking to the very end where it disappears into the gray blue lake.

You huff, shaking the cool water that had splashed all over you. The fish you had caught wiggling something fierce as you tried to unhook it from the end of your line. It had flipped and flopped, slapping its slimy, scaled body and sharp tail thrashing against your scrabbling hands. The splash of it diving back into the water had been large, spraying you to soak through your tank top. The light color of it darkened and damp combined with the near panicked expression you had throughout the entire moment.

Chuckles rumble from between flashing teeth until he catches sight of the blood dripping down your arm. Twisted up and at an angle for you to access the damage as the sting set in.

His focus never leaves you even as he leans down to rest the handle of his fishing rod down, wedging it between two larger boulders to keep it propped up. His longer hair tousles from where he had it tucked behind his ears, a strand falling to curl over his forehead as he’s suddenly in your personal space.

“It doesn’t look too bad,” You soothe even as you feel the sting of the water that trails down your arm and seeps into the cut.

“Darlin’, you’re drippin’ blood.” Joel quietly disagrees, taking the handkerchief from his back pocket and dabbing at the wound before holding it tight, curling his palm over the four inch line.

You can’t stop the hiss that escapes from deep in your chest, the pain flaring at the pressure. His eyes fly up from where he’s looking for any signs of blood seeping through the fabric to catch the grimace that pulls your lips down at the corners. You see the panic flit in the back of his eyes, the sun turning them amber as they take stock of you all over now. Worry evident in the grip he keeps on your injury and the other palm that cups your shoulder to keep you both steady on the rocky shore.

He's quiet, mind working a mile a minute as the weight of your injury settles atop his shoulders. But you don’t want it to affect him this way, the sight of blood suddenly jarring him back to the gruff man he had once been. The horrors of the world too much for him to not be consumed by it. You want your Joel back, the one he had been just moments ago.

“Hey,” You whisper, other hand coming up to cradle his strong, scruffy jaw. “I’m okay, Joel, I promise.”

“You better be, otherwise I’m gonna swath you in bubble wrap.” His plush lips well with color as he chews at his bottom lip, peeling the fabric from your cut to check on it. The blood clotted, wound sealing up as best it could, and he lets out a relieved sigh that fans his warm breath over you.

“Joel, bubble wrap doesn’t exist anymore.” You say with a roll of your eyes, hoping he sees the feigned petulance. He fastens the handkerchief securely around your arm, tying it off to keep it in place as he rests his forehead against yours and closes his eyes in a long blink. You see the tension leak out of him as he takes a deep breath, the beating of his heart calming beneath your palm on his chest.

“Hush, lemme just worry about you, okay?” He’s a provider, a caretaker, a protector. It’s in his nature to switch from carefree and silly to focused and shielding in a heartbeat. It was something you admired, mirrored in him as it makes up a part of you are as well. Two sides of the same coin, connected. Bonded. Understanding.

“That goes both ways, Miller.” Your breath hitches as he pulls you flush against him, the feel of his firm body against yours still takes your breath away even after all this time. His lips quirk up at the corners before he captures your own.

The day spent at the lake was Joel’s way of getting you out of your head, with the anniversary of Aiden’s death fast approaching at the end of the week. He did his best not to push conversation if you spaced out during meals or he found you out walking among the budding olive trees. He did his best to make you either a mug of warm coffee or a chilled drink and press it into your hands to help soothe the thoughts that consumed you. You know you could come to him with anything, talk to him about anything and he wants you to know that he’s there. Even if you can’t find the words sometimes.

He's watching now, as you linger in front of the second bedroom. Aiden’s bedroom, the door closed by his own hand all those years ago as you both set off for the patrol that plagues your nightmares. Joel hadn’t meant to, but he had bumped the handle one day as he waddled down the hallway with planks of wood that would become shelves in your shared bedroom. Book collection growing as he brought more home from patrol and Ellie traded for ones that she thought you would both like.

That same fire that had consumed you six months ago as you hurled hurt words and wooden spoons alike at him in your kitchen had reared up. You had just so happened to be coming home when he had realized the door opened and you caught sight of him with his hand on the knob as his curiosity got the better of him. A quick glance was all he had taken, but that split second in which he glimpsed an unmade bed and piles of clothing along the floor before he began to close it had been enough for you to rush at him with sharp words and quick motions.

Through your tears you had demanded why he would do such a thing, invade his privacy like that. Your privacy. And he realized his mistake, the split-second decision made out of curiosity had caused enough damage that he had slept on the couch out of guilt for disturbing you when sleep came to him late that same night. He had woken up to you curled atop him, throw blanket he had rucked off over your tangled legs and your head pressed right over his heart.

Now though, it’s you who stands in front of the door with a hand on the knob. Joel steps out into the hall with a towel around his waist, skin warm from the time spent in the sun and the water he had used to wash off the remnants of the trip.

“Olive…you okay?” He keeps his voice low, not wanting to spook you. You don’t startle, but you do turn to look at him with wide eyes and a firm set to your lips. Wet footprints mark the hallway as he approaches you, reaching out to rest his hand atop yours and remove it from the brass. Your skin is cold against his as he places your palm over his heart. It thuds against his ribcage as you look up at him with such conflicted eyes, tears brimming the lash line and then falling over to race down your cheeks as you suck in a shuddering breath.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Breath with me, okay? You’re okay, sweetheart.” His own palm spreads warm against your chest, the neckline of your tank top scrunching up with the action. He breaths deep, counts to three and then exhales, making sure you mimic him until your heart beats at a calmer rate. He doesn’t care that the warmth of his skin cools and the droplets of water on his shoulders now chill him in the conditioned air of the home. He’s worried about you, about the shakes he sees move your shoulders, the arm of the hand he holds, the wobble of your head.

He ducks his head to catch your eyes, a tiredness he knows all too well tinging the color of them. You look like you’re about to say something but your mouth snaps shut seconds after it opens.

“Take your time, I’m here, not goin’ anywhere.” The spot of blood on the handkerchief draws his brows together and he carefully ushers you towards the bedroom. You move pliantly, allowing him to set you on the edge of the bed. He kneels to take your boots off, socks too. And you seem to come back to yourself while he disappears to wash his hands and gather supplies for the cut.

“Joel?” You croak, throat thick.

“Yes, sweetheart?” He speaks softly, voice washing over you and almost massaging your tense muscles.

“Can we…can you…h-help me tidy up h-his room tomorrow?”

“I’ll help you with anything, but are you sure?”

All you could do is nod, reaching for him the moment he finishes wrapping the bandage around your cut and tucking it into itself.

“He would’ve li-liked you, I know it.”

“I would’ve liked him too, Olive, I promise you that.” He offers you a soft smile, eyes so earnest that it makes you feel like he really would’ve, that he’s not just saying it to make you feel better. But that’s the thing about Joel, he doesn’t say stuff he doesn’t mean. His words are important.

“He loved me, just wanted to see me happy. You make me happy, y-you make me so happy, Joel.” Your lip quivers as you look down at him with tears trailing down your cheeks. “He deserved to be happy too.”

“He was, sweetheart, you made sure he was. Safe and happy here in Jackson, you gave him the chance to have a life here.”

“It wasn’t long enough.” Words barely choked out on a sob has him surging up, forgetting the wet cloth and tube of ointment on the floor.

“It never is.” He crowds you, arms wrapping around you and hauling you up the bed with him. You tried to move with him, but all you did was cling to his chest with your head buried in his neck. “He knows you did your best, he knows.”

A simple question, a simple answer; both led to a hard afternoon where Joel proved just how much he loved you as he helped you to finally open that door and step inside the second bedroom. Just a clean, nothing too strenuous, nothing too much for you to handle. Just picking up the clothes that had been piled up, dusting the furniture and making the bed over again once everything was washed and dried. Clothes put back into drawers and hung up, going through them left for another day. Joel had been beside you every step of the way, helping where he could, with his hands, his strength, his words.

Later that day, he lets you be the big spoon. Your arms secure around his chest as you tuck yourself around his back and simply breath with him until sleep claims you both.

“Thank you again, Rick, I really appreciate the help.” You smile at the teenager beside you, sitting in one of the wooden chairs Joel had been excited to craft to fill the space of your newly completed porch. His freckled cheek was stained with dirt, as were his arms from his offered task of cleaning out the gutters of your house. You and Joel had been trying to decide when it could be done as he shared lunch with you in the kitchen earlier that week when the boy had chimed in that he didn’t mind taking on the task.

Joel let you lead the interaction, even though you both shared the house and the land it was on with Ellie, it would always mean more to you.

“It was no problem, ma’am. Wanted to show my appreciation for the opportunity to work alongside you in the kitchen.”

“I’m happy to have you there, there’s no need to thank me.” You raise your glass of tea in a silent cheers, the temperature is begging to wane. Days warm but evenings getting chilly, the nights cold enough to turn on the heat.

“Everyone around town says that you used to patrol, still do sometimes.” He’s a little subdued now, like he’s worried about saying the wrong thing. “With you’re uh- with Mr. Miller.”

“I go out with Maria and Tommy sometimes too, but I try to focus on the kitchen these days.” Is your way of confirming the teenager’s assessment. You had really stepped back from patrol, opting to only go out with Joel on overnight or longer ones. Tommy and Maria sometimes if someone called off or fell ill. You realized that going out beyond the walls was something you just…didn’t want to do anymore. Even before Joel had become your partner, but he had needed someone to show him the ropes while Tommy took his own leave to focus on Maria and the pregnancy.

“Do, um, do you think I could maybe go on the next one with you, both of you?”

“Oh, well.” The overnights would be too much for him, or maybe they would be perfect since it’s a longer journey for him to get the feel of the job- how serious it was and all the planning and caution that goes into it. “That’s certainly something I can run by him and Tommy, see if we can work it out.”

“I would really appreciate it. I know I’m still kinda new myself, only been here just shy of eight months. But now that I’m a little acclimated, I want to help out more.” He’s genuine in his words, something that you both appreciate and worry about. So many of the teenagers here haven’t had to face the hardships of the outside world, being protected by the town, the community built within the walls. That had always been an issue between you and Millie, until the influence of her mother no longer affected her so deeply. It’s a challenge to get the younger generation to realize just how fucking insane the world is now.

But then again, they had no memories of the way things were before.

You’re quiet for a moment, thinking over the young boy’s words. You offer him a not as he finishes the glass of iced tea you brought out to him and takes off back toward the house he’s set up in with two other boys and the town butcher.

“Look mighty fine up there, if I do say so myself.” Joel’s voice hollers from the gate he had put up around the front yard. His hands are atop it, his eyes trained on you as you realize you must’ve been spacing out.

“My partner was kind enough to build it for me with his own two hands, pretty impressive, huh?”

“Oh yeah? Sounds like a real keeper to me.” He struts up the walkway and takes the steps easily, hands cradling your face as he dips to press his lips to yours in a breathtaking kiss. His tongue traces your bottom lip before tangling with yours as you return the kiss with just as much fervor.

“Gonna make us late, darlin’.” He murmurs against your mouth, not willing to disconnect completely.

“I was sittin’ out here already to go and you’re the one who decided to take his sweet time coming home.”

“Was busy helpin’ with the paddocks. Horse kicked one of the partitions clean off its hinges. Foal needs a lotta discipline before he’ll be ready to train for ridin’.”

Joel holds his hand out for you to use as an anchor to stand, letting you wrap your arm around it and tug it into your front as you both walk side by side down the walkway and toward the street. Ellie bounces out from the backyard and her own little studio to join you both as you make your way toward Tommy and Maria’s for a little bonfire dinner.

Hours later, once the sun begins to set and cast the evening sky in a swath of deep navy blues and gorgeous deep purples, you find yourself back inside the house. Maria had asked after Tupperware for the leftovers from the grill and you had jumped at the excuse to take a moment for yourself.

Joel’s name leaves your lips in squealed laughter. He had snuck up behind you to scoop you up into his arms as you tried to reach for something in a cabinet that was too tall for you.

“Gross, get a room.”

“Tommy!”

“Nope, y’all should know better. You are guests in my home and still can’t seem to keep your hands off each other.” Tommy grabs the sippy bottle of juice that you had refilled before disappearing as soon as he had appeared in the room.

“I wasn’t- Joel just- you’re a traitor!” You shout after him even as Joel continues to trace his fingers over the sensitive skin of your ribs. He keeps it up, hands closing around your ribs to pick you up and plant your butt right atop the counter. He’s between your legs, smirk in place as he leans down to whisper in your ear.

“Looks like it’s just you an’ me, sweetheart. Wanna tell me why you were lookin’ me up and down out there?”

“You know why.”

“Needly little thing you are sometimes, huh? Just can’t help but watch me, this is a family event, ya know. Nothing but innocent fun around the fire. ‘n you had to go and make it dirty with your squirmin’, tryin’ to get some relief right here between these pretty legs, hmm?” All you can do is gasp as his thick fingers swipe up the seam of your jeans, just enough pressure behind them to squish your already slick and puffy lips together.

“J-Joel…” Hands fly to catch his wrist, to catch the longer strands of his hair that are curling around his neck and pull.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” He’s crowding you, fitting himself perfectly between your thighs and pressing into you. The bulge in his own jeans is obvious as he swoops in to take your lips with his, devouring any argument you have about the setting.

Joel curses as silently as he can, the little crystal dish on your bedside table is empty. None of the rings you wear occasionally are nestled there. He opens the smooth drawer, peering inside only to find a journal, a cookbook with a bunch of bookmarks, and an old polaroid camera. Hands on his hips, he glances around the bedroom, looking for anything that could help him with the task that’s been weighing in his mind and heart the last six months.

It had come out of nowhere, the thought shocking him one day as he sat on the porch he had added to the front of your house to mimic the one on the house he and Ellie had been in before moving in. The project had been daunting, there was nothing but a small concrete stoop with few steps and two wooden support beams. But now there was a decent porch that runs across half of the front of the house from the front door to the living room window. You had been working earlier mornings, to help with the gardens and harvest after ensuring the town had a hearty spread for their breakfast.

It was fall now, marking the passage of a year since your relationship had begun to shift. An entire year of being with you had made him feel whole again, it healed parts of himself he had ignored for far too long. He had spent the summer months getting the work done around his other projects. Replacing fence lines around the gardens, house repairs, the shed and detached garage he had fixed up for Ellie’s living quarters and his workshop right beside it. He had insisted, saying he didn’t mind turning your house into a home for all three of you. The smile you had given him was blinding and he vowed to make you smile like that as often as he possibly could.

That same smile had broken out on your face the afternoon you had trudged home from your busy day.

And the thought of bending down on one knee in front of you to keep it there had him moving to meet you as you approached. He kissed the smile on your lips, hands cradling your face before he trailed them down to your waist and lifted you in a spin that cropped up a bout of giggles that melted his heart.

Now though, determination to make the moment perfect made him hyper aware of every moment he shared with you. That it was hard to just not reach for your hand and ask you as easy as it was to breath.

Even though he’s sure you would fawn over the question and give you an easy answer all the same. But he wanted to put work into it.

He finds you sprawled on the couch, mouth open and harsh little puffs of air sounding into the air as you slumber. Crouching down to get the throw blanket from a basket beside the couch, he drapes it over you and feels his chest fill with warmth as you instantly snuggle down further into the cushions. The glint on your fingers as you curl them around the edge of the blanket and bring it up under your chin catches his eye and he feels his heartbeat pick up.

Your jewelry. The rings he had been looking for are set daintily in place.

He’s careful, more careful than he’s ever been before as he gently reaches for your right hand. Eyes watching your face as he slips his own, thicker fingers around one of the rings and begins to slide it from its place. He gulps as he sees how they dwarf yours, thick and strong where yours are slim and long. Then his stomach flips and heat pools between his legs as he recalls the way you had begged him the night before, to fill you with them. The sounds you had let out, the memory of them alone makes him swell in his jeans.

Just as he’s got the ring in his grasp, your hand twitches and a deep hum has his eyes catching your own sleepy ones as they crack open.

Through your blurry squint, you see Joel’s handsome face, the broadness of his shoulders and the curls atop his head warming your heart. Yawning, you reach for the hand you were sure had just been tangling with yours. He had pulled it back and sleepy confusion colored your features.

“Mmm, what’re you-“ You kiss each of his knuckles, dragging his hand up with both of yours, his shoulders sagging at the soft feel of your lips on his skin. You drag them over each dip and ridge, “Doin’ up so early?”

“You fell asleep after your shift, sweetheart, it’s not so early anymore.” The slip of his tongue along his own lips has you boldly opening your mouth, his eyes dilating at the soft pink of your own tongue as you swirl it around two of his fingers. It must be something about the warmth of the sun hitting the living room windows, the depth of which you slept and then waking up with Joel crouched beside you. But you needed him, your body yearning for him in the basest of ways.

“Let’s waste the afternoon together.” You press the words to the pads of his fingers, not bothering to wait for a response before you suck them into your mouth to the knuckle. Joel’s eyes roll as a groan rumbles from his chest, his other hand coming up to cup your jaw, thumb brushing over your hallowing cheeks.

“Anythin’ you want, darlin’.” And then he’s pulling his slick fingers from your chasing mouth and trailing them down beneath the blanket to press between your legs, his mouth descending on yours.

You notice the way he nearly runs to his workshop after patrol on days he’s home early, his eyes focused and his hands clenching at his sides in the way they do when he’s anxious or thinking something over.

You leave him be, Joel would come to you about what was bothering him when he wanted to. There was no need to push the communication, you trusted him implicitly.

But he was busy most afternoons, well into the early evening lately and while it didn’t worry you…it worried you. He was distant, despite the other day when he had played hooky and put off his afternoon handy man tasks. Coming to bed late, after you had already crossed over into semi unconsciousness.

Often finding the leftovers of dinner still on the table or on the stove and cleaned up after he ate if he beat you home in the evenings. Ellie too, had noticed he was a little more reserved. She had been soothing, spending more time in the kitchen with you at home and dropping by the gardens with another girl’s arm interlocked with her own.

It had to be the time of year, September bleeding into October. His birthday had been a quiet affair, another cake like the first one you had given him. Yellow cake with chocolate frosting that ended up on the tip of his nose as Ellie dipped her finger into the excess and swiped it across his face. He had smiled so bright and his laughter had been loud, his shoulders easing the second he had walked through the door after patrol to find you both waiting for him with it. Just an evening with his two girls on the day he missed his other one with all his heart.

Forever intwined with his birthday was the trauma of the day the Outbreak took place, the part of himself he had lost in his daughter the day after. Something he would carry with him until his last breath, though he admitted that you made it easier to shoulder. Your kindness and love allowing him to heal from it in ways he had never thought he would be able to.

But today when you walked down the street and unlocked the front door there was no sign of anyone having been home for hours. And then you remembered that Joel had gone off on an overnight patrol with his brother and the thought doesn’t sit well. It was a hard day for you, this late in fall. Much like Joel’s own. But unlike him, you hadn’t shared the specific date.

It was still hard to talk about, even if you had made peace with the passing of your own child. Had admitted as much to Joel, to Tommy, Maria. But Ellie…you hadn’t shared it with Ellie. Even as you hear the happy laughter of hers as she treks down the street outside. Unable to quell the low mood and not willing to bring her own down, you grab your bag and make your way down the hallway to your room.

The next day you sleep as late as possible, rest not having come easy throughout the night. Thankfully, it was the week you normally take off for the harvest. Your absence in the mess hall kitchen accounted for and supplemented by Millie and Callie. She had taken her mother’s place in the space, the older woman choosing to keep to herself in the wake of all that happened the year before. The gardens her preferred job now, though her hands were beginning to bother her as arthritis set in.

With little sighs of exertion and some slight frustration at yourself for feeling things so deeply, you dress modestly in a plain tee and flannel. The sleeves are pushed up by noon, the entire flannel disrobed by three as you flit around the trees and gather the olives that are ready for picking. You’ve got two barrels by the time you hear Joel and Ellie walking down the street, the teenager laughing and joking. Joel’s voice is a more even tone, a deep rumble that calms you even as you think back to how distant he had been before he left for the overnight patrol.

Two weeks of kisses planted to your forehead as you slept, of blankets rustling and strong arms wrapping around your already passed out form, of notes being the main form of communication. It was bound to happen, a tough spell. Emotions so intricate and surely hard to deal with as the seasons changed. The date on the calendar looms in the back of your mind as well, the day that everything shifted. That you told Joel how you feel and he told you the same, that you decided to act on those feelings. Maybe that’s why you were so hyper aware of his actions and the long, busy hours he led.

Dinner wasn’t even prepped, no thoughts of food but for the pitted delicacies that were ready to harvest. The street quiets once again as they enter the home, sounds of life wafting from the slight openings of the glass. It was too chilly in the night to have them open but air flow during the day and a lower setting on the heat allowed for a good temperate environment.  

The smell of coffee swirls out of the side window of the kitchen, the breeze picking it up and bringing it to you just as Joel descends the few stairs at the back of the house with two steaming mugs.

“Told ya I’d help with that, sweetheart.” He looks tired, his jacket marred with dirt and his scruff glistening in the low sunlight. “Didn’t have to start it alone.”

He’s pressing the mug into your hands and dipping his head to press a kiss to your forehead, your stomach fluttering at the smile you could feel on his lips before he pulled back and you could see it for yourself. The basket you had been using to gather the harvest hangs from your arm, opposite the one that now bears a small, still silvery scar from the day on lake.

“Just needed to get outta my head,” You don’t quite meet his eyes, prompting him to hook two fingers underneath your chin and tilt your head up. His warm eyes search yours, the emotions swirling inside of you on display for him to see, to search, to calm.

“Lemme get some dinner started, sun should set soon. Come sit with me?”

“Joel, I’ve already started this tree, I don’t want to leave it half undone.”

“I’ll help you, then dinner, yeah?”

“You’ve had a long day,” You sigh, unable to quell the guilt and shame of feeling so utterly alone with him standing in front of you, with Ellie in the house. “You should shower and get some rest.”

“Don’t wanna rest until you’re taken care of.”

“I’m not ready to go inside.” There’s an edge to your voice, one built up from the past few weeks of things just feeling like too much. He clocks it, the simmering emotions just beneath your tingling skin and the slightly raised words you aim at him. You’re not looking at him, eyes focused just to the right of his own, a curl catching your attention and making it easier to focus. But you’re overwhelmed and don’t know how to handle it.

“Okay.” He’s stepping back, cautious but willing to give you the space you needed. To not push the matter or force you into following him into the house. His fingers caress your skin as he pulls it away and your eyes flutter shut as tears burn hot beneath your cheeks. “I’ll, uh, be inside.”

“Okay.”

 You don’t ever make it down the hallway, finishing up the harvest on the tree and then setting everything in the utility room before showering and then promptly burrowing into bed. No lamps turned on, no lights in the bathroom, no pages of the book you were currently working through read or tea had.

Just, straight to bed. Despite the sounds of Joel and Ellie having dinner with quiet conversation. The smell of roasted vegetables strong and the clink of glasses almost too much to bear. You want more than anything to force yourself out of bed to join them- but you can’t. The weight in your stomach, the soles of your feet, it’s too much.

“Olive?” Joel’s deep voice calls in a soft whisper from the cracked open doorway, but you don’t stir even as you lay with your back to it. You have no idea how much time has passed but you realize as your eyes focus and your ears stop buzzing that there’s no longer any sounds of conversation or life being lived down the hall. It’s quiet.

When his steps round the bed to his side, he startles a little when he notices that your eyes are open and glinting in the moonlight that filters in through the curtains haphazardly pulled over the glass panes.

“You’re awake.” It’s not an accusation, it’s a soft realization. He’s sitting to remove his boots, jeans shucked off and folded on the chair tucked into the corner by his bedside table. Flannel shrugged off and socks tugged up to his calves before he sinks onto the bed and slips between the covers.

“You don’t have to tell me what’s goin’ on, but you can’t tell me that everythin’ is fine.” He reaches for your fingers that are curled around the edge of your pillow, keeping it tucked underneath your cheek just the way you like it. “’m here, promise.”

And the petulant no, you’re not is quick to cut the air at full volume.

Harsh breath through his nose is the only response you get before he’s pulling you into him completely, intertwining your legs together and cradling your head with the back of his head as he tries to catch your eyes.

“I know I been busy, I’m sorry.”

“It’s not just that…y-you’ve been di-distant too.”

“I don’t mean to be.” He acquiesces quietly, knowing that the truth in your words is something he can’t really argue with.

“Always in the damn shop, makes me feel like that stuff is more important than me and then I get pissed off that I even feel that way. No matter how fleeting it is.”

“Your feelings are important, no matter how small or big. I…I’ve been working on something for you. But that’s not an excuse for how things have been.” He’s pressing his forehead to yours, a deep breath jostling you both as it stutters out of between his plush lips. “I wanted to have it done in time for the holiday but I keep fuckin’ it up.”

“Don’t want anything- j-just want you.” Your nose is cold when you nuzzle it into the crook of his neck, right where his collarbone peeks from beneath his shirt.

“You’ve got me, I swear it to you.”

“It’s been…it’s been really hard the past few days…”

“Past few weeks.” He breaths the words into your hair, his scruff rustling there as he buries his face into the crown of your head, arms tightening around you. “’m sorry for lettin’ things get to me.”

“Me too…”

“We’re gonna be okay, yeah?”

“Yes, Joel, of course. It’s just…it was just…a few days ago was…this time of year….that’s when I l-lost-“ A hiccup steals the admission from you, tears wetting the skin of his neck as you’re suddenly overcome with voicing exactly what had you so overwhelmed.

“Shh, it’s okay, you don’t have to- if you don’t- if you can’t. I get it, believe me, Olive.”

“I don’t want to keep it from you, it’s just- it’s a l-lot and it’s he-heavy.”

“I know…I know…but I’m here, I’ve got you.” He holds you until you’re breathing evens out and you fall into a restful slumber. His mind reeling with how much he’s been focused on what he could provide for you when you were right in front of him and struggling with something he had been too blind to see, even having been through it himself. One of his hands snakes down and traces the scar that’s exposed from your rucked up shirt- his shirt and thinks back on how shy you had been when he had first met you, how grateful and thankful he was that you two connected…

The next few days are spent tending to each other, tending to the harvest that needs to be collected, divvied up and handed to the general store on main street. To people who want the fruits of your trees for trade. He’s by your side through it all, helping any way he can even if you can’t find the words in a specific moment. No patrols for either of you, no kitchen shifts for you to run to for long hours. Just the two of you and the trees that gave you back your purpose once you had found a place here, safety.

The trees had given you purpose when you had lost your child and again when Aiden had passed. It’s a purpose that seems to realign everything in you each year and for that you’re grateful. The man beside you making you feel like things are finally settling for the better, even if he’s got his own past that haunts him in the quiet moments.

Joel feels it too, how good this time to yourselves has been. How much you both needed it.

It’s when the last line of trees needs to be focused on when bubbles of laughter and small jokes are shared, your voices lighter after so much devotion and time spent together healed the jagged edges of busy life that had caused discordance. He’s trailing soft fingertips through the belt loops on your jeans while you reach for the topmost branch atop a step ladder when he catches the subtle shake of your shoulders. He’s worried for a second that tears have taken over but he hears the huffs of your laughter and smiles so wide his cheeks hurt.

When you step down with something cupped in your hands, he can’t help but be mesmerized by the sparkle in your eyes as you hold them out to him. But he’s also cautious, because he’s learned your penchant for placing random things in his hands. With a shake of his head, he’s stepping back with his hands raised in surrender- refusing whatever you’re trying to give him.

“Nu-uh, you little troublemaker. I dunno what you’ve got but I don’t want it.”

“It’s not bad!” You giggle, unable to reign it in as the thing in your hand tickles against your palms.

“Then why you giggling like a maniac, huh? You may be cute, but I ain’t fallin’ for it this time.” He tries to maintain an even face but you can tell that he’s holding back laughter. Especially when you go to tease him with your next breath.

“Awe, is big bad Joel Miller afraid of a little catapillar?”

“When you’re tryna put it in my hands, yeah. They feel gross and look ugly as hell.” The lines around his eyes deepen as his moustache pulls down with his frown.

“Joel!”

He just raises a brow at you, the thick arch of his making you stare at him in open shock. He looks far too good, even as he’s trying to be serious right now. Eyes bright as he watches you. You can see that he wants to laugh, the corners of his mouth twitching the longer you hold out your hands. Parting them, you show him the bright green creature, lined with black dots and fuzzy legs. He visibly shivers as the thought of it crawling on him crops up in his mind and you can’t help a bark of laughter at the distaste he’s frowning with.

“Put that thing down. I got somethin’ better for you.”

Oh, you’re no fun. It’s just a silly, little guy. He ain’t gonna harm anyone.” You turn around to place him on a lower branch. Right beside two olives that you had yet to pick. The creature happily crawls onto the branch and proceeds to take microscopic bites of the fruit, forgetting all about being plucked from the higher branches. Wiping your hands on your dirty work jeans, all traces of laughter dissipate and your breath hitches when you turn around.

Joel is down on one knee and he’s holding his own cupped hands out to you now.

“Was tryna to figure out the best way to do this, but uh- figured I should just take the moment.”

“Joel…” Your bottom lip trembles as your heart races, he looks nervous. The strong, broad man kneeling in front of you looks nervous and it makes you nervous in turn. Feeding off of his energy in a way you always have.

“Now, I realize that while being so focused on gettin’ this right that I kinda fucked things up. Took a long time because first I had to swipe this to use as a reference,” He uses one hand to reach into the front pocket of his jeans and pulls out your simple silver band that had gone missing weeks ago. And then it hits you: he’s made you a ring. “I love you, think you deserve the whole goddamn world. Whatever I can provide for you, I will. For as long as I can and as long as you want me to.”

“Olive,” His beautiful brown eyes catch the midday sun as they connect with yours, emotions swirling them. He unfurls his fingers and sitting in his palm are two wooden rings. One is larger than the other ever so slightly and you can see the shine of epoxy on them as they glint. “Will you honor me in becomin’ my wife?”

You’re nodding your head enthusiastically, hair bobbing in it’s clip to keep it away from your face as you take the few steps toward him. Your fingers brush his as you gently caress the crafted wood in his palms, a watery smile taking over your face as you realize this man had made you wedding bands from the very trees he was helping you harvest for the second year in a row.

“That a yes, darlin’?”

“Of course it’s a yes, Joel.” Your words leave on a breathy exhale as he let’s you slip the larger ring onto his left hand. He’s got his eyes trained on your own as he does the same, threading your fingers together and using that connection to haul you into his arms as he stands. He kisses you deeply, dipping you backwards slightly as he holds tight to the middle of your back.

And it’s the best feeling, of finding someone as special as him in the remnants of a broken world. Of finding someone who loves you through the good times and bad, through the happy moments and hard moments, through everything and anything you both had to do to survive and make it to this point. Joel Miller is one of the good ones and now he’s yours forever. You're his forever.

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[thiccpersonality]

5 Times Bruce Was Protective of His Pups (+2 Times They Were Protective of Him)

1: The Interview

Batman hates a lot of things: mornings, waking up early, the sunlight peaking through his curtains, people-more specifically, Superman-bossing him around (even if that one is a bit hypocritical) and losing (in general) bets, just to name a few. But, another thing is strangers being around his newly adopted pup; Richard, anything and anyone that isn't deemed trustworthy to Bruce is deemed as a threat or kept in his sights as a potential enemy until stated otherwise.

Which is why Batman finds himself feeling antsy as he waits for the signal to be given for him and Superman to exit the backstage area together and onto set.

The omega doesn't even know why he agreed to be shown in public with his pup and Superman, it's just...he couldn't resist the excited little eyes turned his way when Richard heard the Kryptonian suggest doing an interview together. Of course, Bruce knows he should have knew his pup would be excited at the idea of an audience, the boy was a performer and entertainer for Heaven's sake, it's just that he never expected for himself to be so nervous about taking his baby out in public for the first time in awhile that wasn't for dealing with small crimes.

"Robin, make sure to stay under my cape unless stated otherwise, okay?"

The boy pouts at the gentle command, curious as to why his mom is so nervous. "But why? I could perform a lot of cool tricks for them out there. I bet they've never seen a live circus act before!"

Batman sighs fondly at the boy's youthful exuberance, his gloved hand instinctively raising to scent the boy's neck gland before realizing his own wrist is covered and settling for gently ruffling the pup's hair. "I bet so too. But...I would really appreciate it if you stayed under my cape until I tell you to come out-" He pauses at the disbelieving look on Robin's face, sighing softly in response-"What is it? Why do you look like that?"

"Because you aren't planning to let me ever come out, are you?"

At Batman's silence, Robin pouts further, a frustrated little puppy squeak escaping his throat. "See! Why can't I show them my tricks, B? I know they'd love to see me! Do you know how much people talk about Robin in the news? I'd be a hit!"

Batman takes in the boy's excited face carefully, thinking that maybe he's holding the boy back from something that could be good for him, but he knows his worries aren't unfounded. He remembers when he was just a pup, traumatized from witnessing his parents murder and just as bitter and angry as Richard...which is why he's not comfortable with the pup being in the spotlight, the boy seems to have good days where he's excited and happier than ever before; but then, things are too loud, the media that never ceases to leave Bruce Wayne alone too much for the poor boy to handle...and he's just scared that they'll upset his precious child, that maybe all of this spotlight won't be that great in the end, but what is he to do? He gave Alfred a break today and won't bother the alpha to come and watch his pup when the reasons for it most likely aren't even that serious.

A deep, soothing voice, however, interrupts Batman's thoughts.

"C'mon, Batman. Robin seems to be all for it, so why not let him be in the limelight for a few minutes? He knows you'll keep a good eye on him...and I hope you know that I will too?"

Superman gives a calm, reassuring smile down towards the smaller man, hoping that it's as disarming as he's trying to make it. This whole thing with the Bat is still fairly new, and he's even surprised that the man agreed to doing this with him when the other was so...volatile when they first met, but to be fair, Robin wasn't there when they encountered each other. It seems that the pup really has changed Batman in an unimaginable way.

"Of course he knows that-" a quick glance to his pup-"At least I hope he knows that?" Batman is yet again interrupted by his pup tugging at his cape desperately, "Pleeeease! Pretty pleeeeease? I promise I'll make you look good and-and make sure to smile-oh! Wait--I'll make sure to look grumpy to make you look really, reeeeally serious. And I'll stay close by, and I'll-"

"Okay, okay. You can...go...out there. But! You have to stay behind me when we go out first, okay? I'll make sure to introduce you properly before you do anything, they don't even know that you are here with us."

Robin nods enthusiastically and instinctually hides behind the omega at hearing someone approaching their dressing room, a small but audible knock is heard before one of the PA pokes their head in. "U-Uh...Superman, sir. A-And...Batman, sir. I've been told to come and get you guys, it's almost time for you all to h-head on." The poor beta swallows nervously at Batman's blank, white stare being directed his way. He can't see the man's eyes, but he can feel the icy stare piercing his skin almost painfully, luckily enough, Superman steps in front of the Bat with a bright smile. "Of course, thank you! We'll be right on out."

The beta nods quickly before rushing out of the dressing room, leaving the three heroes alone, Robin snickering softly at Batman's attitude.

"Agent A wouldn't appreciate your lack of manners, B. You were supposed to say, 'thank you very much.' You teach me to say please and thank you, but I never hear you say it...unless it's to Al-Agent A." The displeased grumble coming from Batman makes Robin even more amused, "That's because Agent A deserves said pleases and thank you's...most of the time anyway, though sometimes he gets on my nerves giving his opinion when I never asked for it. I'm surprised I haven't fired him ye-" Robin's 'oooh' cuts him off, even if the pup knows this familiar pattern of Bruce "threatening" to fire Alfred or lessen his pay, the child still likes to cause mischief wherever he can. "I'm telling him what you said! And you can't fire him, he's your daddy!"

Batman softens at the pup's words and-yet again-sighs softly, nodding in agreement of the pup's analysis of his and Alfred's relationship, slipping out a one hundred dollar bill for the pup just in case he really does plan on telling Alfred what was said.

"I won't say anything about my lack of manners or any threats to Agent A as long as you don't?"

Robin takes a moment to think about the question in Batman's tone; a mere proposition for him to not say anything, after all, he knows how scary Alfred's wrath can be. And even if it's not anger, you still don't want to be scolded by the older alpha...it makes you feel guilty for any bad things you've done, however, it's just that: a proposition, a mere suggestion for Robin to decide if he wants to go along with Batman's request or not, and while he may not be business savvy, he's not an idiot and immediately snatches the money and slips it into his own utility belt. "What are you talking about, B?"

The omega smiles down proudly at his pup and the genuine look of innocence written all over the pup's face, "That's my boy-"

Superman clears his throat to get the two Gothamites attention, holding the dressing room door open for the two when they look his way. "We have an interview to show up to...and I don't think we should make them wait any longer, it'd be rude-"

"But Batman isn't rude. He has the greatest manners ever, very nice."

Superman looks amused at Robin keeping up his act, eyeing the boy suspiciously as Batman leads them out the door. "You sure about that? Your answer wasn't swayed by...perhaps, a one hundred dollar bill?"

A small, offended gasp escapes the pup who decided to hide under the black cape anyway. "I don't take bribes, Superman, only cash or credit." The Super snorts at the young boy, not bothering to correct him on how that's what a bribe usually entails is money, instead, choosing to superspeed his way in front of Batman. "Do you want me to head out first? I...know how uncomfortable taking Robin out made you? So, maybe seeing me first might be for the best."

Batman wants to bristle at the taller pointing out his vulnerability...but he's too busy trying to ignore the flutter of his heart at the alpha's thoughtfulness.

"Mm. Fine."

————°————

The directed applause dies down as they come back from a commercial break, the interviewer/talkshow host smiling brightly for the camera. "For the first time in the history of ever we have two very special guests coming out for us today-and I don't mean gay-" the audience erupts into cued laughter-"One is the Golden Child of Metropolis, Superman, who is used to being in the spotlight and having annoying folks like myself poking and prodding at him. Let's give the champion of Krypton a big, but not too big, round of applause! He's still from Metropolis folks."

The crowd gives a more genuine round of applause and laughter this time around, the Gothamites curiously watching the super powered alien exit from the back with watchful eyes, one audience member shouting how they think Gotham Knights is still a better baseball team than whatever forgettable team Metropolis has.

Superman has to hold back from replying about how if his team is so " forgettable", then why did the Gotham Knights lose the World Series two times to them. It really shouldn't bother the Kryptonian as much as it does...but he loves baseball, so sue him for being passionate about it. Instead, he offers the host a thankful smile for having him in Gotham, the woman feeling as though she has to squint to properly look at the alpha. "How is anyone this happy in the morning? I'll never know, but thank you for agreeing to come to Gotham for this interview, Superman."

She pauses as the crowd claps again, her excitement-and nerves-growing at who she has to introduce next.

"Next is someone who I have great respect for and am extremely proud to introduce. This man-or I should say-Bat, is an enigma; a legend and seemingly myth to all who have heard of his great, seemingly impossible, feats. I am very happy-" and nervous goes unsaid-"to introduce our Dark Knight of Gotham, Batman!"

The crowd grows deathly silent as the Bat steps out onto set, the mood changing to one of slight unease and stunned awe as the man's beloved people witness his cape dramatically fanning out on the ground around him like some sort of Gothic wedding train. His stance tall and confident; commanding, as he keeps his eyes trained on the now stupefied TV hostess, each step eerily silent yet so loud to the people watching him walk forward as if he owns the place. The silence deafening as everyone takes a moment to process that the Batman is actually here, "U-Uh, you may seat-I mean, take a seat...i-if you want Batman, you don't need to if you don't...want...to."

The woman messes with her already neat hair nervously, turning to smile at the audience and camera to the best of her abilities. "Uh...a round of applause, please?" It takes a few more seconds before everyone reclaims the basics of their fine motor skills and burst into loud applauses and whistles. 

Batman does his best not to growl at the audience, they aren't doing anything wrong...just being loud and making his protective instincts flair, but he knows it's not them.

It takes everything in the omega to not clear his throat before speaking, if he does, that would most likely be a sign that he is nervous...and just in case any enemies are watching, he can't let them see he's weak, especially with a pup around. He ignores the woman's curious and slightly worried looks as to why he hasn't taken his seat yet, and turns to the audience and camera crew. "Before we begin, I have someone else you should be pleased to meet-" everyone's eyes are immediately drawn towards the small, vibrating lump underneath his cape-"Batman can't go anywhere without his partner, so you better show your appreciation at the new vigilante, Robin."

Everyone in the crowd gasps quietly and excitedly at the small pup that rushes out of the cape and performs a series of difficult flips and tumbles before landing perfectly and bowing.

Robin keeps his head bowed as the crowd cheers loudly and coos at him, rubbing at his chest at the random prickly feeling in it from the noise, before sitting up and smiling cutely. "Thank you! Thank you!" The crowd genuinely giggles at the cute display, no one daring to show the usual Gotham grumpiness towards the Bat's pup.

Batman finally takes his seat next to Superman, the alpha nodding at him proudly for not getting defensive while the omega does everything to ignore that stupid flutter in his stomach from that godforsaken smile.

"O-Oh, wow! This was something completely unexpected, but absolutely welcomed! Another round of applause for our guest heroes on: Shut Up! And Spill That Tea." The hostess relaxes somewhat at the sight of the pup, she admits that the boy is a breath of fresh air in the usual smog of Gotham...and the feeling of the studio, because while Superman is a way friendlier presence than Batman, he still is intimidating in his own way. She finds herself softening at the sight of the pup skipping up to Batman and crawling up onto the alpha's lap, "Thank you for gracing us with your presence, Robin. It's very nice to be able to meet such an adorable new face."

The boy smiles at the hostess and waves at her seemingly bashfully while his other hand holds his cheek. "You flatter me, Veronica-I mean, Ms. Veronica. I love your show." Her eyes widen at the fact that the pup watches her program, "Oh...thank you! I didn't know that you watched my show? How do you have time for that with all this crime fighting?" Veronica glances up at Batman to gauge his reaction to her question, sighing softly in relief at his attention placed carefully onto his pup.

Robin pouts at the question, his arms crossing to show his displeasure. "I'm not allowed out every night. B and Agent A say that growing pups need as much rest as possible...even though I try to tell them that I'm old enough to stay up late."

The crowd 'oooh's' and 'ahhh's' at his confession, Veronica perking up at the sudden mention of another name. "I have to say that I agree, you still need your sleep to grow just as strong as Batman. And I'm sure this...Agent A is a good man too if he's working with you both, if I may ask, who is this mysterious agent?" Robin pauses at that, worrying he maybe revealed too much and glances up at Batman quickly to see if he messed up, relaxing into the other when he looks normal enough. "He's a mysterious agent as you said. But back to how I watch your show! I enjoy waking up every morning and watching it! Because B only allows me to fight petty crimes on weekends, I have to get my drama fix every other day."

Even though the boy completely avoided her question, Veronica can't find it in herself to be annoyed like how she'd usually be if anyone else tried it.

"I appreciate you for tuning in! What makes you enjoy my brand of tea spills compared to other shows?"

Robin's smile is mischievous, "I enjoy how you don't hesitate to give your opinion. You aren't a suck up like most other TV hosts when they speak on a topic, and while you talk about things that may or may not be true, you keep it real in your opinion without also being overly cruel."

Veronica makes an impressed noise at how clearly the boy speaks, of course he's still a child...but definitely better spoken than most children she runs into. "Now who's the flatterer-" she smiles and looks at the camera for a minute-"Listen up, folks! This is something completely new and different for a show like this, as many of my viewers know, we talk gossip and scandals here a lot. But, as we are dealing with two men who could easily crush me if I ask the wrong questions, we will go a different route today and just stick with regular schmegular interview questions with...maybe slightly juicier questions thrown in, at least with Superman anyhow."

Veronica turns back towards the two older heroes, her eyes trying not to linger on Batman too long in fear he'll snip at her for admiring his physique a little too closely.

"Alrighty, so, you two have made headlines about a year or two ago with the announcement that Superman was in Gotham. Even better, was the lucky bastard who captured you two together on a rooftop, though some eye witnesses say our Dark Knight wasn't all too welcoming. I-as I'm sure everyone else-would love to know how you two first met and what caused Superman to bother stepping foot in Gotham?"

She leans in expectantly, expecting Superman to cooperate first and easiest.

"Well...If I'm allowed to say this? That wasn't the first time Batman and I met, we met a year prior in Metropolis when he was investigating a crime that involved both Lex Luthor and The Joker. That instance was the first time we were actually captured together, however, and...yeah, Batman wasn't so welcoming of me being here."

Veronica eyes the Kryptonian like a predator with its prey as he keeps drifting his eyes over to look at Batman, the excitement bubbling in her stomach at the almost reverential look the alpha wears on his face. Humming in response to his words, "And how exactly have you come to this point of doing an interview together? No one can get their hands on the Bat...not unless you are as stupid enough to try it like the Rogue Gallery, but I guess Superman can use his powers in many ways, right everyone?"

The audience whoops and wolf whistles at the implications of her words, the Super flushing under the attention and because he would love to use his powers in such a way towards the Bat. 

"Superman isn't as stupid as he appears, Veronica. He'd be a fool to try touching me."

Everyone grows silent again at the Bat talking, a shiver running down everyone's spine at the soothing, yet bone shaking, silky deepness of the man's voice.

Superman's eyebrows twitch at the way the other man says it...he...technically did touch the Bat when he pushed him into the wall with his superspeed, but the man pulled out his greatest weakness in retaliation. However, he still got to touch the Batman! Veronica licks her lips in excitement at the Bat actually participating and saying something, "Of course! So I take that to mean, he has never tried being forceful with you?" It's Robin that responds this time, his voice innocently confused. "Why would they fight? They're friends."

The set descends into a silent chaos as the audience starts whispering about what was just said, Veronica turning her sights back to the pup, deciding she'll try to suck as much information out of him (in a nice way) as possible, because the boy obviously has all the tea to spill.

He's her strongest weapon right now.

"Oh? They are friends, are they?"

Robin nods absentmindedly while crawling around all over Batman, playfully biting the Bat-ears and tugging as he usually does whenever he's near the omega's head.

"Yeah! B came down today because I overheard Superman asking him if he wanted to do this. Batman said no, but I was super excited at the thought of-" Robin yips at Batman's gloved hands gently grabbing his scruff warningly, not enough to hurt obviously, but to get the excited pup to calm down and stop him from saying anything more. Right...he almost exposed how he was excited to see an audience again, that could cause possible questions to anyone listening extremely closely as to who his civilian identity is. "B-eeee..."

Everyone watches as the pup is gently reprimanded, the boy puffing his cheeks out and snuggling up to the Bat immediately after the punishment, his apologetic puppy squeaks filling the room.

Batman huffs fondly at the boy, ignoring the urge to nuzzle into the boy's neck and gently rubbing his back instead. "He heard us talking and begged me to come on this show. I only came because he likes it so much." Veronica swallows nervously at the man looking at her but nods, "T-That's very sweet of you to do this for Robin. Uh...we have to go on a commercial break, but we'll be right back with more hot topics for these three heroes."

Veronica slumps in her seat as soon as they go to commercial, scrubbing a hand carefully down her face and sighing loudly as the pressure slightly lifts from her shoulders.

Her honey brown eyes eye the trio curiously, watching as the pup is given consolation snacks, her manicured nails tapping unconsciously on her desk as she wonders what the boy was about to say and how she can pull more juicy stuff out of the pup without scaring him off. She enjoys juicy gossip as much as any other drama leech, but she doesn't like to make innocent pups cry, especially not Batman's pup.

Veronica closes her eyes as the makeup artist touches up her face with a powder so she doesn't look so greasy, it's not her fault she was starting to sweat under the intimidating glare of Batman.

The shocked gasp escaping from her makeup artist startles the TV hostess out from her thoughts, her mouth hanging open stupidly at the Bat standing in front of her desk. "Robin was looking forward to performing." Veronica is frozen in place at the command in his tone, as though he expects her to open up a spot for the pup to perform. "O-Oh...I was...supposed to ask questions-"

"Your questions are stupid-"

"Batman!"

Superman zips over to the man, his gaze apologetic towards Veronica for the other's rudeness. "I'm sorry about him, it seems he forgot the conversation he had with Robin about manners."

"What conversation?"

Robin speaks up from around his lollipop, looking between Superman and Veronica curiously. "I don't remember that? I do know I mentioned something about B being suuuuper duuuuper polite and well-mannered." The boy turns fully towards the intimidated and fascinated woman, "Can I pretty please do some tricks for you all? I promise you've never seen anyone perform quite like I have! That's why I came today, B said that I would be able to do something."

Batman grumbles, "I never said that."

Veronica looks between the Bat and his pup before conceding to the puppy eyes she knows the boy is making at her.

"Alright, alright, kid. No need to look at me like that. I'm sure we can open up a spot for you as soon as we come back on air, m'kay?" Veronica straightens out her suit jacket as everyone rushes back into place, her lips twitching up in amusement as Batman quietly tells Robin he can't perform with a lollipop in his mouth, her perfectly trained smile returning as the last commercial plays. "I know that we are getting off of our usual schedule, but it seems that Robin would like to perform some lovely tricks for us today. So if we could give him a warm round of applause as he takes the spotlight to let him know how eager we are to see his special tricks he's learned from Batman himself."

Veronica is thankful for the sound crew in this moment and how they don't bother showing irritation if they have any, but choose to play a song for Robin to do his flips to, the crowd clapping along as the music starts and the boy performs on the open floor.

Robin gives a beaming smile as he begins, reveling in the cheers and aww's he receives anytime he does something particularly cool. It feels as though it's been forever since he's done something like this, even though he knows deep down it probably hasn't been horribly long, it feels...freeing to pull stunts like this once more for an exuberant audience, yet also intimidating, he tries his best to push on despite that prickly feeling appearing again in his chest.

His mind flashes back to that horrible night as his body soars through the air, the anxious feeling spreading through him the more he thinks about it.

That fateful night started just like this too, didn't it?

Robin remembers how excited he was to witness his parents perform, recalls how enthusiastic he was to do his own little show, a-and the audience were just as loud and excited as he was too. Their claps and screams filling his ears as he flipped across the stage...yet unlike then, he feels himself falling-falling-falling--

Everyone gasps as Robin lands awkwardly and falls down with a loud cry, everyone's worried murmurs sounding too loud for the pup's sensitive ears, his hands lifting to cover them in hopes he can't hear the horrified shouts of the audience. A dangerous snarl is heard from Batman towards the camera crew and how they focus on Robin, one of them having the audacity to zoom in on the boy's reaction. "Turn the cameras off, now!" Veronica flinches at the command and waves frantically at her crew, disappointment in her gaze towards the one camera man for his carelessness towards the pup.

Luckily the cameras cut off to a commercial break as Robin shouts, "M-Mommy! Daddy!" The mood tense as the pup reaches out to people who aren't even there, "M-Mama!"

Everyone is too stunned to notice how Batman reacts to the last call, a snarl ripping through his throat at the people watching his son like some spectacle as he quickly gathers the puppy into his arms, securely tucking him away under his cape before gliding off set with his trembling bundle.

Superman can't help his own protective glare directed towards the one specific cameraman before super speeding to the dressing room where he can hear Robin struggling to breathe properly, standing guard outside to make sure no one approaches them and keeping his ear out for the two. "C'mon puppy, breathe with me-" a loud whimper from the boy as Batman shushes him-"I know it's hard to, but mama is right here, it's going to be okay--"

Superman's eyes widen at that and he chooses to stop listening in, standing taller with a warning growl as one of the crew passes by.

"You aren't at the circus, baby. You are right here, on the set of Shut Up! And Spill That Tea, your favorite show, yeah? Can you feel my arms around you?" Batman waits for Robin's slow nod, the omega looking around cautiously before taking off his mask to nuzzle the pup, "That's very good. You are doing so well, honey, but I'm still concerned about your breathing. Just...come here-" he gently turns the boy's head so that his ear is resting on his chest-"Listen to my heartbeat and just follow it as best you can. I'm going to count to five when we inhale and count eight with exhaling, okay? Follow along as best you can."

Robin whimpers, his heartbeat too loud in his own ears, yet warring with the calming, steady sound of Bruce's own.

"One. Two. Three. Four. Five-" Bruce's voice washes over Richard like calming, gently swaying waters, the pup clinging onto the older man's voice like a lifeline as he slowly starts to breathe normally.

Batman, after a couple minutes of repeating the patterns, ends with his own relieved exhale at the pup's breathing evening out into something normal. "Richard..." His voice croons softly to the child at the tears wetting his suit, "Are you okay?" The boy sniffles and nuzzles into Bruce's neck, sniffling the soft and spicy scent of the omega. "I-I'm sorry, mama. I-I couldn't-you were right! I couldn't handle it a-and I made you look-" he's cut off at the hands that gently grab at his tear stained cheeks.

"Don't even finish that sentence. It's not about how you made me look, I already know how I look, and that's fine with me. This is about you and how you are holding up now...you know I understand what you're going through, don't you?" Richard softens at the reminder that Bruce truly does know how he feels, nodding his head gently as he slumps against his mom. 

"Do I...do I have to go back out there?"

Bruce growls protectively, hugging the boy closely, flashbacks of the media bombarding and overwhelming him when he was this age coming to the forefront of his mind. "Never! You never have to be seen by them if you don't want to. Only when you are ready to."

Robin nods softly, the weight of his stress making him sleepy as he rests his head against Bruce's shoulder, his ears twitching at the sound of Batman's communicator chiming, watching sleepily as the omega slips his mask back on and answers. "Alfred says he's on his way back home with ingredients for some chicken noodle soup, if that sounds pleasing to you?"

Robin hums softly with a small smile on his face, nodding and nuzzling into the man as he clears out their scents from the room before exiting the door.

Superman slumps in relief at seeing Robin look a lot less shaken than before, though there's still some lingering shakiness from the sudden flashback. "Is he okay?" Batman tightens his hold on Robin, his hand gently rubbing up and down the pup's back. "Yes. He's going to be fine, Superman-" the omega curses the unwanted warmth he feels at the alpha showing concern for his pup-"We...have to go though, he's not going back out there after that. I'm so-"

The Kryptonian waves off the apology, "Don't even say that, please. I've never heard you apologize for anything before...and I definitely don't want it to be for something like this-" the alpha looks away nervously, wanting to ask so many questions about what he heard the other man say to Robin, but deciding against it as now's not the time-"U-Um...can I give you both a lift home? My cape will keep you both warm and cozy on the trip to...wherever it is you go to." Batman bounces his child higher, adjusting his hold on the boy as he eyes Superman wearily for the offer, softening slightly at realizing it was just a genuine offer. "No, I have my own ride. Batmobile, remember?"

"Oh! Right...right."

The two heroes stand there awkwardly, the soft sound of Robin's snores managing to cut through the tense air as the alpha and omega focus on the boy.

"I should--You should get him home." 

They pause to stare at each other for speaking at the same time, Batman nodding his head in thanks for Superman's understanding as he heads to the exit, his mouth opening slightly in surprise as the Super holds the door open for him.

"Your hands are full."

With a small hum, Batman exits the building, squinting instinctively at the rare show of sunlight shining down through Gotham's sky, the Batmobile's roof sliding open as he nears it. The omega gently settles the pup into his seat while Superman keeps an eye out for any gossip hungry media, heading over to the driver's side after buckling the child up and hesitating before hopping in, his tone uncharacteristically soft as he addresses the alpha, "Thank you."

Superman feels his heart beat furiously in his chest at the gently whispered words, watching the Batmobile race off before turning his eyes up to the bright sky and smiling, remembering exactly why he's so fond of mornings.

(This is taken from my AO3 account here: Thicc_Personality I just thought I'd cross post it here too as I haven't posted anything in a bit 😂. I hope this is enjoyable to someone? You darlings please stay safe, happy, healthy and of course lovely as always. 💛)

[kiryoutann]

i wanted to rant about simon.

what do you think so far like what are your actual headcanons for the canon simon vs this simon from this series?

my feelings about the actual simon is quite vague. i've read far more fanfictions than bothering with the actual material so my picture of his is not really...constant? idk

but with this simon, he scares me. just to think about people that can engage in such romantic and sensual acts with little to no feeling involved.

or the mc's father. her dad makes me feel such an anger and injustice that i don't know how to express it and i know we probably won't get a satisfying update on him.

you don't like your wife fine i could understand the distance between them, but how can somebody forget their child no matter if they share the same blood or not, after all the time he raised her

leaving all that behind just to start a whole new life. how can that not eat somebody alive

OHH this is actually a good question. honestly for me, simon is probably one of the hardest character to write about because he doesn't give away too much. too calm. too know-it-all.

we're just gonna talk about the romance aspects!

but based on my head-canon of the canon simon, he has those younger years where he avoids romance, but not this actively and aggressively. it's more because he has too much on his plate (anger management issues, PTSD, depression) than because he think he's not good enough for some happiness (but he also doesn't expect/hope for it.)

canon younger (probably 6-7 years after he killed Roba) Simon lives his life without the need for things to turn out in certain ways. as he gets older (yes, the 2022/2023 ghost) and better mentally, he's become a little more open to the idea, though.

he's still not actively seeking romance, settling on one-nightstands and things that don't require any strings attached. however, he's not completely closed off to the idea too. if he has someone he likes AND TRUST (this is already a high wall to get over), he might act on it. but again, not really actively pursuing it and knows he doesn't need it.

and this might come as a surprise, but he's actually the biggest flirt out there—well, at least when it's only the two of you. when in front of his taskforce, he goes back to acting like he's the calm, collected, cool, stoic, scary lieutenant that everyone knows. can't have you ruin his reputation, right?

"it's private but not secret," with him. though it's not loud PDA, sometimes he lets his hands linger in places like your waist, your hips, shoulders. his love language is act of service, gift giving, physical touch—he makes sure to always appreciate you with compliments and love affirmations, but he's never really a man who's big on words.

WHILE THIS SIMON, hmmm.. he's a bit more complicated. and a mess. at some point, you can think of him as the younger version of canon simon we just talked about to simplify it, but even that's not really accurate considering the different ways they handle "all that sappy stuff" (as simon would say). this one actively and AGGRESIVELY avoids romance.

and while they both (my ver. of canon simon and this simon) sort to flings and one-nightstands, the canon simon is more careful and actually follows the boundaries he draws himself. while this simon outlines the boundaries, follows his rules until an interesting bird enters his orbit, violates them, and destroys them himself before he goes around saying "you read that wrong, darling."

NOW, ABOUT THE FATHER. . .

RIGHT! in my opinion, it's better for them to get a divorce actually and Dad still plays a role in MC's life rather than just leaving her. like, i know it'll still hurt the MC but, at least she can still have both of her parents even though in different houses! at least she doesn't have to feel neglected in her childhood.

okay, you hate someone you thought you would love forever, but abandoning your child? whose very existence was created because of you? talk about the Dad will come up in the sequel. hell, he'll even make an appearance with his two ballet loving new daughters. imagine how MC will feel.

sadly, this happens a lot in real life. fathers leaving and starting a new life without thinking about his "old" family. how people shame single mothers but never the absent fathers. people shame many women who have "daddy issues" or call them "fatherless" yet never call out men's incapability of being a real, PRESENT father.

[yourcutelittlegayfriend]

hi hope your having a good day!

do you have any headcanons for a yandere Clark Kent, I just think he's neat

Hi! I have slightly great day actually but I hope yours is much better!

In regards to Headcannons about Sups yes, Superman really is a pretty great character loved the guy since I saw him on TV but kinda scared about how they keep making evil superman these days, anyway lemme just open my old notes and please forgive me for typos this isn't really proofread much.

Yandere Clark Kent/SuperMan

HeadCannons

[General, Platonic and Romantic]

General

In the terms of a yandere Clark I think he's somewhat-

Obsessive - loves to pick up even the tiniest things you do or the little stuff that makes you -You! especially with that perfect vision that can literally see for miles.

Example: The tiny baby hairs that curls at your nape when you tie your hair up, The habit you do when something catches your eye or interest and even the slight twitch of your muscle when you're about to do something.

Controlling - but I say he let's you have some freedom, this golden boy is raised by the Kents to hold his temper when things doesn't go his way-

Like when you disagree with what he wants he will then try to hear out your reason first and maybe work something out, it breaks his heart to see you angry, distress or just sad.

But if it's been life or death? your life and wellbeing on the line? There's no talking your way out of this, his words are final.

Hero Complex - He thinks its his responsibility to protect and save you from everything, He's Superman, Man of Steel and a Hero, Yes of course you can get groceries for yourself but atleast let him come with you, you don't know what some people are planning or what goes inside their head until you just find yourself at the end of the barrel of a gun.

[Platonic]

As a Yandere Platonic it's like just in a very over protective family.

Whether you're like a parental figure, a sibling or even like his own child, He'll become to protective over you.

If he ever has the chance to show you of he will but not to the point of telling anyone everything about you, they'll know who you are, your name , what you are or relation to him and what you do but that's it, he'll try to avoid anymore discussion or talks about you, he gets to keep that informations to himself.

Like how you really like your puppy and you want everyone to know you have one but you won't let them pet it or even just look at them in general, it's your puppy, you're not obligated to share them to people.

Very family Oriented guy, he likes to have his family close to him and celebrate any important events with everyone, memories are precious and he wants to keep them forever, we have this thing here -a culture you might say- where in some families it's not really required or force upon the children to move out and become independent sometimes it's still okay to live under the same roof with your grandparents, parents, siblings, in laws, along with your wife and children and your siblings children (dear lord u don't know how true this is in my country)

I like to think that if you want to be a bit independent to Clark, he'll be like 'Oh! I understand so I thought about this instead'-

and literally build either a separate house that reaches his parents farm house in one full walk or extended the house where you get your own space and still be with the family.

He coddles you even more when you don't have superpowers or is a kryptonian, He freaks out when your hurt and acts like you'll die from a little scratch after falling, still kept baby proofing the house even if you become an adult

You can use accidents or possible injuries as a leverage but you can never talk or joke about kys because he will literally get angry with you and gives you lecture about how important your life is.

[Romantic]

As a romantic yandere I think he's a bit on the Hopeless Romantic side.

Believes in love at first sight or soulmates and continue to fall more and more in love with you day by day, thinks about how romantic it is to swoop in and save you as Superman, likes to pop out everytime you stand on your balcony and sneak up on you and how you fit right in his arms as he carries you in the sky with you and him alone above everything and everyone.

Will give you gifts that has more sentimental value than the price tag, like the scarf his Ma made even meals and treats for you, simple things maybe art supplies or notebook for journaling and if he can get a good raise he'll get you that jewelry that brings out your beauty, he loves to see anything he gifts to you on your person a bit like marking on you that kind of stuff.

Doesn't really like Poly-relationship, he's not really against it but He likes to keep you to himself, you're both made for each other and he likes to keep it that way.

Family - adding this again but really wants to get married to you soon after like what 2-3 dates? wants you to move in and become a stay at home spouse where you'll spend more time with his folks and maybe take care of the kids.

Is dying to see you round and prego like goodness lord you are even hotter to him when you stand there either cooking or walking around with your hand on your hip and the other under that bump may or may not.

If you're willing in this relationship maybe 2-3 kids? if not forced pregnancy might become possible.

And if you can't have kids it's alright adoption is available, he would still look like a highschool boy in love when you hold a baby or a tiny kid in your arms

I'm a bit soft on my Yandere stuff so a bit srry for that

And that's all I got for the Big Man supes, I hope you like this and I hope did this right, been writing this one at 3am, Thanks for the ask btw.

[jrswritings]

Tingles and Giggles - Chapter Twenty-Two- Tyler Owens x Reader

Get caught up with the Chapters 1-21 on the Masterlist! :)

Chapter Twenty-Two - Haggard, Jennings, and Strait

You had just left the gas station a couple of hours away from the small town where Auntie B lived, starting your journey to your parent's house. While you were filled with excitement, you were also quite nervous. You hadn’t brought any man home to your parents since your ex, Derek. Your parents were in love with Derek more than you think you were. They viewed him as the perfect boyfriend for you. He was pursuing a law degree and planned to have his firm in the Big Apple. 

Your parents listened to you, but there were times you felt your words landed on deaf ears for what you wanted in life. Every parent wants their child to be happy and successful in life, but everyone views success differently. 

While accelerating onto the highway, you leaned against the armrest and gripped the wheel tightly. In all honesty, it wasn’t just nerves you were feeling; you were scared, too. 

Tyler decided to lean his seat back and put his hat to cover his face, in hopes of taking a brief nap. You slid one of your earbuds into your right ear and selected a random playlist from your ever-growing list of music. The piano intro of Merle Haggard’s ‘That’s the Way Love Goes’ flooded your ear. You hummed along softly, but it was one of your favorite songs of Merle’s so it was hard to not sing along. 

“That’s the way love goes, babe, that’s the music God made, for all the world to sing, it’s never old, it grows,” you sang softly,  “Losing makes me sorry, you say, honey, now don’t worry, don’t you know I love you too, and that’s the way love goes.” 

Little did you know, Tyler was not asleep beside you but was listening to you the whole time. You grew up listening to Haggard, Jennings, and Strait so it brought you back to a time when life was simpler. 

Your phone dinged and your phone read it to you in your ear.

“A text from Mom, hey honey, what time do you think you will be at Uncle Oliver’s? Say what you’d like to respond with.” 

“In an hour or so,” you said, “Who’s driving the truck and trailer?” 

After it was sent, the fiddle on ‘Amarillo By Morning’ took over. You slightly started to rock your shoulders while listening, your fingers tapping the beat of the song on the steering wheel. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Tyler shuffle, glancing over you noticed he was disconnecting your phone from your ear bud and connecting it to the truck. 

“What? I like this song, too,” he said, turning the volume up.

“Ah, okay,” you laughed softly. 

“They took my saddle in Houston, broke my leg in Santa Fe, lost my wife and a girlfriend somewhere along the way,” he sang, sitting up in his seat, “But I’ll be lookin’ for eight when they pull that gate and I hope that judge ain’t blind. Amarillo by mornin’, Amarillo’s on my mind.” 

“I never took you for much of a singer, Owens,” you said, turning the radio down slightly. 

“Auntie B and my Mom would always have music playing, no matter the time,” he said, “Especially if it was classic country. They always played Alabama and Johnny Cash.” 

“Sounds like my household,” you chuckled, “Hence why my boys are named Waylon and Willie.” 

“Same for Cash, ain’t that right, bud?” He asked, turning around and seeing his dog passed out in the backseat peacefully. 

“He’s had a lot of excitement the last 24 hours, babe,” you said, “Let the poor pup sleep.” 

“I know,” he said softly, reaching his hand over and placing it on yours, “My last few days have been a lot of excitement, too.” 

“I bet, you’re with one crazy lady,” you laughed. 

“The only thing she doesn’t know is that I’m crazier,” he laughed. 

Your phone dinged again, this time it playing over the truck sound system. 

“A text from Mom, your father planned on having you drive and use your truck, then we’d have your boyfriend help out with some of the manual labor. You know we have to see if he is even worth your time. Say what you’d like to respond with.”

You pressed the button on the screen to not send a reply. 

“Well that isn’t embarrassing at all,” you groaned, rubbing your forehead while turning off the main highway. 

“It’s okay, they just want to see if I’m good enough for you,” he said, “Normal protective parenting.” 

“That’s what you think,” you scoffed and rolled your eyes, “Just wait until they bring up my ex and won’t stop talking about them.” 

“Why do they like him so much since he broke your heart?” Tyler asked, squeezing your hand gently. 

“Because in their eyes he was the perfect boyfriend,” you mocked your parent's tone, “Meanwhile our relationship was far from perfect. I’m glad he cheated, even though it did give me trust issues.” 

“Okay, now I’m lost,” he said, leaning to be facing you slightly. 

“As much as my parents viewed him as perfect, after year two I was starting to fall out of love with him. We would fight, a lot and about the dumbest things. I’d want to go listen to bands and dance in downtown Salado, yet he would want to go to the city and bar-hop with his college friends,” you said, your mind going back to how those days made you feel, “He’d be gone to the cities for a whole weekend if not longer sometimes. He never helped out with the farm chores when we’d go to my parents. It’d just be that his soft little hands can’t get rough, it doesn’t look good in a courtroom.” 

“Was he going to be a judge or something?” Tyler asked.

“Lawyer,” you said, “My parents viewed him as going to be quite successful and would make me happy my whole life. So, I swallowed my pride and stayed with him to make them happy.” 

“Why though? If you were miserable,” he started to say.

“Because back then I was a people pleaser,” you snapped, “And others abused that so I’ve been working on not being one.” 

“I see,” he said quietly. 

“But what I view as being happy isn’t what they view, so I just suffered until I had an actual reason to leave him,” you said, pulling into a rest stop and putting the truck in park. 

“I’m sorry you had to go through that for that long, baby,” he said softly, reaching over and moving a piece of hair from your face. 

“It is what it is, Ty,” you sighed, resting your forehead on the top of the steering wheel, “I’ve moved past it to what actually makes me happy.” 

“I make you happy?” He asked, a smirk coming to his face. 

“Yes, you dummy,” you said while sitting up and smacking his chest lightly, “I wouldn’t have said yes if you didn’t.” 

“I suppose you’re right,” he chuckled, kissing the back of your hand. 

“Are you okay to drive? I need to text my mom that we’ll be there in twenty and I need to calm down so I don’t lose it the next couple of days,” you said, unbuckling your seatbelt. 

“Anything for you babe,” he said, “I’d rather not have to bail you out of jail.” 

“I wouldn’t kill anyone, just say some not-nice things,” you said, opening your door and sliding out of your seat. 

“That’s what they all say,” he chuckled, getting out of his side of the truck to go around to the driver's side. 

While you messaged your mom back that you’d be there soon, you leaned the seat back slightly and rubbed your face with your fingers. There was a reason you rarely visited your family, and this was it. The home wasn’t a happy place anymore without James there. Your view of life changed, along with what priorities you had. You moved to stay focused on one thing and one thing only. Yourself.

Taglist: @fanboyswhore9 @faith719 @ummmeg @nerdgirljen @winterassassin1804 @smoothdogsgirl @xbox5angelx @ifilwtmfc @djs8891 @watashiwababy

[tentenismybitch]

ok team gai-centric tenten headcanons now:

(handwaving canon cus idk if they even still have anbu after the war lmao but) she wants to be an ANBU and specifically requests it when kakashi becomes hokage - since kakashi is her sensei’s husband best friend, she incorrectly believes that he will grant her request. it’s because of this that the opposite happens: he explicitly DENIES her repeated requests and when she eventually confronts him about it, he’s like: well. me and gai care about you too much for me to fuck you up like that. here is a genin team that would benefit from your tutelage instead :)

tenten was neji's first real friend. but also. he used to piss her off BAD with all his fate and destiny talk, and for being an uptight clan-kid. she definitely used to pick fights with him in their academy days. he often won, but she discovered his blindspot because one time he turns his back on her and she throws a rock at him and it actually hits him. she's like "oh word? 👀 that vision's not quite 360 is it HYUGA?"

also. kinda pisses me off that neji is on a team with ROCK LEE and TENTEN, two of the canonically most pleasant, friendly and optimistic people in the konoha 11/12, and their sensei is fucking MAITO GAI, but it takes getting beat by naruto, some random jerkwad he just met, to change neji’s perspective on fate and make him less driven by his anger and hopelessness. i absolutely do not accept that, though i understand it had to happen because this is Naruto the Manga. IN MY MIND THO, naruto just echoes and drives home sentiments that neji’s LITERAL TEAM AND ONLY LOVED ONES have been drilling into him for the entire year that they have been on a team before he even met naruto, and also probably insisted on when they were still in the academy. bffr

RELATEDLY: sorry, but. for a while. tenten does not like hinata. she feels bad and guilty about it, but, well, two things. 1) (at least according to narutopedia) tenten allegedly hates weak people. based purely on what she hears from neji, she would probably categorize hinata as a weak person and 2) even if she didn’t, as neji’s literal only friend and someone who understands injustice, she would empathize with him and his hatred for the main house. in her child’s/teenage understanding of it all, she would find it perfectly reasonable that neji hates hinata, and in defense of her friend, would also not like her. she is never outright mean to hinata, because she’s not cruel! she just doesn’t try particularly hard to be her friend! hinata might not even notice it herself!! and she gets over it eventually!!

she also likes spicy food just not as spicy as gai and lee like it. her spice tolerance is like. she can eat buldak spicy ramen (original) but wouldn't touch 2x spicy, which gai and lee could eat regularly. neji cannot handle spicy food at all, bless his heart <3

this is going to be a hot take (its my headcanon tho so who cares) but. gai tries to teach them all how to open the gates. neji can't do it at all; tenten can only get as far as the 4th gate, the gate of pain

tenten is the first to kill someone and she is...not as upset about it as gai, lee, and neji thought she would be. in fact, her callousness about it scares gai a little bit and he has to give her a Talk about the Value of Human Life, even when it is an Enemy's Life.

also. see headcanon #1 on this list. when she requests to be anbu kakashi remembers this and is like "hm. this kid's got a latent bloodlust. maybe no anbu!"

because my kakagai goggles are always on: kakashi and gai try to be discreet about their relationship at first but tenten's very observant. whenever kakagai is acting a little too weird for her she's like "just make out already DAMN!"

speaking of kakashi, after naruto leaves, since tsunade has taken over sakura's training, he hangs out with team gai during their training sessions (that's their Stepdad ok)

ok. i'm disregarding the filler that explains how everyone became a chunin for this one:

after losing to temari so quickly and brutally, tenten OBSESSES over proving herself in this specific way. chunin exams are apparently held twice a year, so they register again–lee and neji are lowkey not ready after both getting major surgeries just a few months before, but they see how important it is to her so they register anyway and both end up getting knocked out in their final matches. that's right baby: tenten becomes a chunin first! lee and neji follow in the next exams six months later

speaking of disregarding canon: instead of gai holding them back a year, i hc that when it was time to register for the chunin exams when they were more newly a team, tenten opts not to register because she thinks they are not cohesive enough as a team (cus neji and lee are always getting into it.) neji and lee are very mad at her for this but she's actually right

[too-much-boobus]

never let me yap about how dsms are based off of external behaviors which affect the neurotypicals around us and not the actual internal experience and thats why ill never be diagnosed with anything and ill never experience community and i felt so isolated and corrupt and singularly awful as a child that i thought i was irredeemable and incomparably worse than my SAer

[ducktracy]

there are a lot of evil people in the world and a lot of darkness in the world and so it’s very important for me to stress that now more than ever is the time to spread kindness and compassion. combat the evil by not only not partaking in it, but actively refuting it. destroy the notion that being compassionate or generous or kind to someone is uncool or embarrassing or even scary. be the change you want to see. start a chain reaction. positivity only breeds more positivity. do an act of kindness for someone so that that person who is too afraid to do it themselves can see you, realize that they’re not alone, and perhaps sheepishly follow your example. and then the next person who is too afraid but sees that person can do the same. when bad news comes out about bad people or horrible atrocities in the world it’s such an easy impulse to despair, and obviously it’s important to feel what you need to feel. grieve. be angry. be sorrowful. be empathetic. but dust off your pants and get up and be a part of a chain reaction that, no matter how small the scale, and spread compassion and love and care. all the reasons why you might not—“it’s hard! it’s scary! people will make fun of me! it’s useless because there’s too much evil!” are all grade A arguments as to why you should. you have no idea how many people you could inspire to do the same. even if it doesn’t get you anyway far, you can at least say you have the nobility of trying. please choose love and please choose life. you are worth loving and you are worth inspiring others to love

[skunkes]

[velvetvexations]

human trafficking anon here again people say i am 'cruel' for not having empathy for people who were hurt by men and now hate men. because they're traumatised and scared and whatnot and how dare i not have empathy for them hating all men but the thing is. when i see these people say 'fuck all men' 'all men are monsters' 'kill all men' all i think of is the little boy i grew up with in that trafficking ring (tw for child abuse, and mentions of child death ahead) this boy was my best friend. we were both being trafficked in the same area and at the same time and he was the same age as me. we both wound up spending a lot of time together and he got hurt FAR worse than i did. because he was more disadvantaged than me when i hear these people say 'it's insensitive for you to not understand why i hate all men. they're my oppressors i am allowed to hate them', i think of the little boy who i had to hold while he was wounded and sobbing. or while he limped over to me after being beaten over the most minor misbehaviour. i think about the little boy who grabbed my hand every time an adult came near because he was so fucking scared that they'd kill him this time and i think about the time we coloured in together. and the time we looked up at the stars together. and i think about all the times i hugged him and he hugged me back. i think about how he was so disadvantaged by society that there wasn't even a missing person's report made when he died. i think about how fucking easy it was for our organisation to make him disappear like he'd never existed at all and i think about how this constant 'all men are evil' nonsense spouted in leftist spaces helps absolutely fucking nobody. it is not productive. if your trauma leads you to hate an entire demographic of people so blindly then that is something you need to work on in therapy. hating an entire demographic helps absolutely nobody and when i see people spout this 'men suck. men are all abusive. i hate every man to exist' i just think about my best friend, that terrified little boy who didn't get to grow up because society turned their backs on him. and i can't help but think about how utterly fucking pointless it is to spend so much energy preaching hatred towards others online when there are such bigger things in the world. men existing is not the fucking problem. the patriarchy and misogyny is the problem. why waste your time posting about how much you hate men instead of doing something to help other victims

anon who got trafficked again radfems can bitch and moan at me about how 'erm i have the right to hate all men you're just mean for not sympathising with me for being traumatised' i do not give a fuck. yell at me all you want. it is not going to make me believe that hating an entire group of people for something out of their control is okay or normal. i really don't fucking care that men are given an oppressive position in society i still think it's fucking weird and ultimately unhelpful to hate 50% of the world's population also because! i used to BE the guy who hated men and was terrified of them! guess what changed! i went to therapy! i saw many many psychologists and psychiatrists! i spent time with my friends who were men! and i realised that it's not fair to hate random people for the horrific things that others did to me! it is not the fault of every man in the world that i got trafficked by a man! being cautious around others is understandable and okay. living your life with a vicious seething hatred and terror towards men is unhelpful and will end up damaging your psyche in the long run. the first fucking thing a psychologist ever told me was that living in terror and hatred of others is only going to hurt me in the long run. a life lived in terror and hatred is hardly a life at all

'i have trauma from men so i should be able to [insert cruel thing here]' is low key hilarious to me

i was trafficked as a child. a lot of the people who hurt me were men.

does this mean all men are evil? no. it means that more white rich cis men have the privilege required to get away with abusing children. because there were a significant amount of women who also hurt me

somehow, miraculously, me having trauma caused by men has not led me to hate every single man ever and decide that every single man on the planet is evil and irredeemable. if i can be literally trafficked by men and still not decide that i should be allowed to be as cruel and rude as i want then i think it is genuinely a skill issue when others decide they should be able to be as mean to men as they want

like. random individual men are not the problem. and irrationally hating every man ever is not going to solve anything

you're stronger than any US marine or radfem, anon

[inkskinned]

am i gonna put you in the book acknowledgements am i gonna be able to say your name without flinching am i ever gonna get a word in edgewise am i ever gonna recover the time i spent with you. computer virus kid; i arrived in your life already begging to be let in. somehow insecure i could even be your friend. like you had a line outside the door and we were all shifting our weight, begging.

you're so fucking good at that - at making people feel like they need to earn you, like you're a commodity none of us can afford. no kindness or careful communication could work on you - you were so good at just going-ghost, about deciding someone just wasn't cool-enough. something about that is super ironic. even the parts of it that weren't romantic felt like a romance book. i wanted you to like me so badly i scrubbed myself clean just so you'd spare me - what. your favor? a look?

okay okay okay. it's just a friendship - if it was even true that we were friends, if you even saw me as someone you trusted. on reddit someone would tell me girl literally just cut her out of your life, it's not that difficult. even i was aware of how fucked up the whole situation was. like, why the fuck do i even care about your approval? you're like, not even that fun to be around. you are often a little bit cruel.

but for almost four years of my life, i thought i had found someone like me. somebody who liked the same things i do. someone who liked to read and who liked making jokes with esoteric references and who spent maybe too much time on the internet and who was absolutely a little bit pretentious. i don't know, something about that was powerful and addictive.

i keep thinking about our last conversation. about how i said - okay, enough is enough. you pushed me too far, you really hurt my feelings.

and how you laughed and said - you think you're the victim?

[stupid-elf]

Growing up with strict, neurodivergent parents while neurodivergent yourself will have you as an adult acting like you've recently escaped the feywild. What are the tricky rules? Is everything accounted for? How do I ensure I don't accidentally step over the line into Impoliteness. You know the consequences aren't death and dismemberment but you might look down one day and find you've lost your shadow and all of your friends if you're not careful