#you will be in danger during half anniversary | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tonycries · 11 months ago

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F*ck You! (Literally) - T.F.

Synopsis. Of course, you hated your ex-husband. Of course, you found yourself in bed with him on your wedding anniversary.

Pairing. Toji Fushiguro x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, exes to lovers, angry séx, spítting, degradation, y’all are both mean, rough, jealousy (Toji’s side), bréeding, smackíng, arguíng during it, cúmplay, overstím, oral (female receiving), mentions of Megumi and Shiu, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 4.7k

A/N. Gojo next week because I miss my man smh.

It’s not often that you contemplate something that would definitely end up with a night in jail - but it seems that somehow whenever you did, your ex-husband Toji was always sure to be the cause of it.

Like that time he had the audacity to ask you out to dinner right outside the divorce attorney’s office, mere moments after signing those papers. Or when he “accidentally” sent you some mouthwateringly shirtless photos - through email, of course, because you had him blocked otherwise. Although, you’d saved those pictures - a secret you’d take to the grave.

And now.

Standing right outside your front door, on the night of what would’ve been your fifth anniversary. His imposing figure filling the frame, that tiny scar you loved and hated so much quirking up ever-so-slightly as he shoots you a sly grin.

He’s here.

Looking as devastatingly handsome as the day you left him.

“Happy anniversary, ex-wifey.”

And just as irritating, too.

That snaps you out of your traitorous little reverie, and before long you’re sputtering out a shaky, “Y-you. What do you think you’re doing here?” Not even waiting for his response before moving to shut the door in his face.

“Oh, believe me,” Toji lets out a humorless little laugh, reaching up a sculpted arm to stop the door in its tracks. “I wouldn’t be here even if I wanted to.”

That was a lie - and Toji knew that. He had half the mind to think that you knew that. But it didn’t matter when you’re glaring up at him so prettily. The confusion evident on your face as you grit out a shrill, “Then why am I seeing your stupid face tonight?”

“Chance? Luck? A blessing?”

Scoffing, “A curse.”

“That mouth’s still as sharp as ever, huh?” He cocks his head in amusement, “Did you not see my email?”

“No, I uh-” you mumble, face burning. And oh you wish you could stop yourself from thinking back to those photos - stop yourself from wanting to smack the smirk off Toji’s face that told you he was, too. “-blocked you on…that…as well.”

“Mhm.” he hums, eyes lingering too long on your comfy pajamas - his favorite ones - and the way you’re squirming so adorably under the intensity of his gaze. “Well, m’just here to pick up one of that brat’s toys. Won’t take long n’ I’ll be out of your sight, doll.”

And you can’t say anything about that familiar little petname, because it hits you with a pang - oh, how you missed Megumi.

He’d thrown a tantrum until he was allowed to visit you occasionally, of course. But still, it was nothing compared to how inseparable the three of you were before your relationship with Toji soured. His line of work too dangerous, the fights more frequent until you’d had enough.

“Ah, yes. Megs probably won’t even leave the house without it.” you chuckle, opening the door wider. “I was surprised to find it the other day since he said that lil’ plushie was his best friend. After me.”

“After me.”

“Liar.”

“Gorgeous.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fitting for our anniversary, huh?” And oh how Toji enjoyed riling you up. To spy that little furrow between your brows as he strides inside your apartment like it was his own - he did know it like the back of his hand. “I already know where the bed is, after all.”

“Yeah, and you know where the door is too.” you mutter, acting like it didn’t make your head spin to think of Toji - in your home. With you. You and Toji. In your home. You and Toji in your home.

You hadn’t seen him since the divorce just four months ago, and here he was looking so unfairly like he fit right in. Taking up much more time than necessary as he walks towards that little wolf toy on your couch. Eyeing up the sappy romance movie paused on-screen, and those familiar photographs on the wall.

You still had that one of the two of you from that beach getaway two years ago, he noted with delight.

“Heh, for someone that hates me so much, s’funny you have my face hung up here.” he smirks, words just dripping with that familiar dark tone that has shivers running down your spine. “Knew you were still into me.” Defiant - challenging, even, because he always did like to push all your buttons.

Don’t fall for it, don’t fall for it, don’t fall for-

“Shut up.” You roll your eyes, walking towards where Toji stood. “I jus’ use it to scare off clingy dates in the morning.”

And you loved to push his buttons even more.

“Oh? Dates, huh?” And something about those words make you feel like something’s too-tense. Exciting, even. Especially as he repeats - more to himself than you, “Dates.”

“Jealous?”

“Heh, of whatever scrub took you out? In your dreams, doll.” Maybe it was the way Toji was joking - but didn’t sound like he was at all. Or maybe it was the way he didn’t move as you stepped closer, enough that you’re almost toe-to-toe with him. Probably it was the way he murmurs out a strangled, “M’not jealous.”

Oh.

You watch the way his body stiffens, darkened eyes flitting between you and the picture and you- Smirking “Good, because m’having one over soon.”

“Oh, you little bitch.” He spits out the words, gaze hardening in a way you knew did not bode well for your - or down there. Hitting it where it hurts, “This is why I’m so fuckin’ glad we divorced.”

“Fuck you,” you tilt your head, anger simmering beneath your skin - and you didn’t know who was pissing each other off more. “So then you can get out before my date gets here.” And the emphasis on “date” isn’t lost on him.

“Such a liar.”

“M’not lying.” You were - but you didn’t care if Toji could tell because it was ticking him off just the same. “You could say he’s an-” Now close enough that you could feel the heat of his proximity. A finger stabbing right in his pecs with each word, “-upgrade.”

Suddenly you’re being pulled to his rock-hard chest, all the dips and curves of his body so sinfully obvious against your skin as he questions, “How so?”

“Well, for starters he’s-” you gasp, casting a sidelong glance at the way the muscles in his arms ripple. And it takes everything in you to try and keep your voice steady, “-bigger.” Thighs pressing together at the tiny grunt of disbelief that leaves your ex-husband, too-aware of the strong hand wrapped around your waist. “And sexier.”

“And?”

“And what?” you gulp, raising your head to blink up at him in confusion and oh-

Oh, shit. You weren’t going to make it out alive.

Toji’s eyes were wide, a mirthless smirk spreading across his face, jaw tensing as he leans down to whisper hotly against your ear, words hoarse - stilted, like it pained him to even speak them into existence. “And what other lies are ya gonna make up?”

And you might be a genius - you might just not know what’s good for you.

Because you’re batting your lashes just the way you knew he liked, the words - saccharine sweet, and falling from your lips faster than your whirling brain could even register them. “And he makes me cum so much harder.”

Toji’s lips are crashing against yours - and you knew it was coming. You wanted them to. Bruising, angry - like he was telling you to just shut the fuck up, another word of your imaginary date and it would kill him.

He tasted the same as he did all those months ago. Sweet, like those cheap lollipops he would buy you and that absolute sin of his scar rubbing against your lips.

“Fuck-” he lets out a guttural groan into your lips. Only a sloppy mix of teeth and spit as he kisses you with the collective desperation of a little over four months. “Hate how you’re-” Like he didn’t even care if it left your poor lips swollen and bruised - at least that might give whatever loser coming here a hint. “-still addictive.”

With that, he picks you up like it’s just nothing, your traitorous legs easily wrapping around his toned waist. Letting you pull off that sinfully snug t-shirt to feel the smooth planes of all his muscles. Soft. Warm.

You gasp at how he manhandles you so that your thin pajama pants are just above his achingly hard cock, throbbing, and so so angry against your core. Trousers already so damp with- precum? Your slick?

“Hah- not jealous my ass-” you hiss, grinding down on his bulge.

And Toji’s parting mere millimeters, chuckling darkly at the disappointed little whine that escapes you. “Yeah, well, does he ever get you like this?” He presses hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, purposely not giving you what you want. “Does he ever get you this-” Grinding you against his straining erection, two fingers sliding down, just teasing the drenched front of your shorts. “-this fuckin’ wet?”

“Nah,” you pull on Toji’s silky locks, nipping at his collarbone. “He gets me wetter.”

“You little-”

It’s like something snaps - whatever’s left of Toji’s sanity, your patience, possibly you by the end of this. Anything but the thick, suffocating - tension in your living room. Now too small. Too hot.

Before you can react, your back is hitting the soft cushions of your couch. Bouncing at the sheer force of the throw as Toji looms over you.

“Thought you knew where the bed was?” you manage to get out, in the heat of it all.

“Thought you hated me?”

“Gonna kill you if you break this cou-” but the rest of the retort on your tongue dies as Toji’s hands are suddenly everywhere.

Groping your breasts - your waist - your ass. Barely giving you time to even think before fisting your shirt in one hand. Too impatient - too starved - to do anything other than pull down, down, down until it-

RIP!

“Oh you fuckin’ slut.” Toji’s jaw drops into a soft little oh! at the sight of your heavenly breasts before him. No bra - exactly how he liked it. “How I missed these.” Massaging them under his hands, “Is this for him or ya really had no idea I was coming?”

“You’re t-too fuckin’ hah-” you whine as he immediately takes one into his mouth, swirling his tongue around your sensitive nipples. “-full of yourself.”

And you don’t even know if Toji registered the insult - looking like he was on cloud nine as he rolled your other nipple between two fingers. Pulling off with a lewd pop! only to say, “Wonder if you’re the same down there.”

You are - Toji discovers, with wonder.

Hooking a finger underneath the hem of your already-soaked shorts to pull them off. And, hey, Toji hasn’t had this view in months - so he really can’t help himself from bringing them up to his face. Your jaw drops at his pure audacity as he breathes in the scent of your dripping pussy with a strained, “M’keepin’ these, doll.”

“You’re sick.”

“And you’re soaked.” strong hands spread your legs so shamefully. You can’t fight it - how fucking wet and glistening you were for him under the dim-lighting. Toji grins cockily, “Who’s she this wet for, huh? Me or him?”

“Not- not you-” you whine, despite how your sloppy cunt was leaking all over your legs - such a mess. A mess that Toji was shifting down the couch to lick up. Slow, lazy circles right at your inner thighs. Sweet - so sweet, his favorite. Eyes rolling to the back of his head at your taste and oh, how Toji missed this.

Missed teasing you until you broke.

Which, it turns out, happens fairly early.

“Y-you’re just fucking talk.” you hiss, but it comes out more breathless than you intended. Your voice betraying how badly you wanted him. Needed him to do something - anything. “He-”

Toji doesn’t even let you finish your sentence - and you don’t need to - because without another word, he’s surging forward until he was nose-deep in your messy cunt.

Licking one, long stripe up your swollen folds - up and down, up and down, up and- He murmurs into your cunt, “Do ya still like when I-” Hot tongue flicking roughly against your clit. Just barely, and you’re bucking wildly underneath him. “Ah, you do. Old habits die hard, huh?”

Of course, the only response that Toji gets is a wet, pathetic murmur of something - maybe a plea, probably a curse at him to shut up.

But it’s something that has all the blood rushing to his aching cock, something that has him biting down lightly on your inner thigh - just a little punishment.

“What was that?” he purrs, “Didn’t seem to hear you right, wifey.”

It takes everything in you to gasp out, a barely-audible determined little, “I-I said-” fingers threading through Toji’s hair, pulling up his face. Hard, so that he’s forced to meet your eyes instead of admiring your pretty lil’ cunt. “-fuck you.”

And you don’t know what you expected - maybe an insult back, maybe for him to get up and leave you all high and dry right then and there.

But oh you should’ve known your ex-husband better, because he has the audacity to throw his head back and laugh. Laugh, more to infuriate you than anything as he promptly spits on your quivering pussy.

Once. Twice.

You flinch as some splatters against your thigh, and you both know it’s on purpose. Because Toji Fushiguro always had perfect aim - but when it comes to you, well, he had to knock his bratty lil’ wife down a few pegs.

Throwing your legs over his shoulders to lick all over your sloppy pussy once more. “Fuck me, huh?” he groans out little profanities into your cunt, “Fuck me fuck me fuck me-”

Smack!

You register that delicious little sting on your ass far before the realization that Toji smacked you - and even later do you realize that you liked it. Slick beading through at the painfully good feeling.

Liked the way his rough palm was soothing over the sting, words strangled and slurring together as he smacks his lips against your swollen, sensitive ones. “I’d rather you fuck me than some hah- other loser.”

“S-so fucking mean-” you moan.

“So what?” His thumb draws tight little circles on your throbbing clit, the other hand looping around your waist - bruising - as he drags your sloppy pussy all over his hot mouth. “No one else could do this.” Soft tongue going all the way up from your base, “Get you this wet-” Just dipping into your clenching hole. “-taste you like this.”

“Hngh- fuck-” you groan, as he alternates between flicking your clit so mean and squeezing his tongue into your tight cunt. “Fuck fuck fuck- s’too much-”

Too much? Toji wanted to laugh - if he wasn’t so addicted to the feeling of your gummy walls stretched out so obscenely on his tongue, anyway. He knows you can take it - you always did.

And he tells you that - a little over ten times, actually, as the hand on your waist arches you deeper and deeper onto Toji’s tongue. Fucking you so harshly - merciless. Unrelenting. Like he was taking any and every shred of anger out on your ravaged cunt.

Bucking your hips wildly, you tipping your head down to look at the sight below you and oh-

You gasp at how sinfully blissed out Toji looks between your thighs. Eyes glassy and hooded, strands of dark hair sticking to his forehead. Your slick glossing his lips so prettily - and if you angled your head just right you could catch the way it drips down his jawline. Yeah, maybe you really did like his face between your legs.

“Always knew ya did, doll.” he echoes against your glistening lips and shit, did you say that out loud?

It doesn’t matter, because Toji has his lips smushing against yours, such a filthy mess of spit and fingers and tongue - everywhere. Like he couldn’t decide where he wanted to taste more. “Knew your pussy missed me, even when you’re such some other bastard. She’s still so sweet.” Thrusting in and out faster past that first, feeble ring of resistance. “So messy f’me. Fuckin’ my tongue so good for s-someone that hates me.”

And you have half the mind to wonder whether it hurt - how his fingers weren’t cramping up yet, lips aching. Letting you push his face deeper into your pussy, ankles locking around his broad shoulders in a desperate attempt to shut him up. Close.

“Y-you talk ngh- too much.” Blood roaring in your ears, feeling his smirk against your cunt. “Do you ever shut the fuck up?”

“Nah, I know you ah- love it.” Smack! Another handprint on your ass that has you stuttering and jolting on his face. “Can feel you clenching all around me because I-” Toji gives you such an infuriating wink from below, “-eat this pussy the best.”

And you would be mad at how cocky he was being - if you weren’t cumming all over his pretty face.

Stars behind your eyes with each little lick of Toji’s tongue as he fucks you through your high, lapping up all your sweet sweet juices.

“W-wait oh-” you were letting out such delirious little whines. “S’too sensitive- too- hngh-”

“No-” he grits out, voice shot. “No no no no- wan’ it. Need it.” Scrambling to pull your hips back onto his mouth. Fingers just bruising on your skin.

He was like a man possessed, and you can only lay there and take it as Toji tips his head back to let your slick slide, down, down, down his throat. Voice shot, as he grits out, “Oh fuck, been holdin’ out on me.” Eyes unfocused and miles away as he comes up to squish your cheeks together in an embarrassing little pout. “Open that fucking mouth.”

And you barely even realize it when you are - tongue lolling out so sinfully. The only thing jolting you back to whatever senses you have left is Toji spitting in your mouth.

A steady, angry stream of saliva before his lips are clashing once more with yours. Purposefully letting your juices smear all over both your lips, tasting yourself and him and how desperate you were on his tongue-

“O-oh my god.” you break the kiss at the feeling of something so hard against your cunt. Delicate strings of spit snapping as you whirl down to look. Shit, when did he even take off his-

Ah, how Toji loves the breathless little whimper that leaves your lips at the sight of his too-tight boxers, the insults failing you now. Humming, “Like what ya see?”

As if to prove his point, he tugs them down just enough that his rock-hard cock springs free. Fuck, you think you’ll never get used to it, even after so long - Toji was so fucking massive. Flushed red, soaked in beads of precum that drip down, down, down all the way to the tufts of black at his toned pelvis.

So thick and angry that your legs were clenching together just at the mere sight. And Toji notices - how could he not?

“Yeah…” he murmurs, as if continuing a conversation from before. Muscled arms pushing your thighs apart to watch how your sloppy pussy was drooling all over the couch. “She definitely missed me, look how much she’s gushing.” Pooling your juices on his fingertips, “Clean your act up, doll”

“Shut up.” you squeal, embarrassedly, giving Toji a glare that makes his balls squeeze so painfully. Smirking, “You’re not even as big as him.”

Oh.

Well, Toji didn’t like that - not one bit, in fact, as he shoves his dripping wet fingers in your mouth - pressing right at the back of your tongue in a way he knows will have your pretty eyes welling up with tears.

“Then why aren’t you with him, you little bitch. Think I like you better when you’re f-fucked dumb.” he spits dangerously against your lips. Fisting his cock to lazily drag up and down your puffy folds. “Don’t you hah- agree?”

He doesn’t get to find out if you agree - and he doesn’t care, either. Besides, you wouldn’t be able to give an answer even if you wanted to. Because his swollen cock was too thick, the stretch too sinful, too dizzying as Toji splits you apart on his unforgiving cock.

“Mmmpf- fuck! Hah-” you mewl, torn between running away from his cock and bucking down for more more more-

“More?” he laughs, “Ya ask him for more like this too?”

And oh how so very cute and pliant you were being stuffed full. He barely gives you the time to adjust because - why would he? Toji has his mouthy wife all breathless and splayed out so shamefully, desperately trying to milk his cock for all he’s worth.

Barely even halfway in, yet he rocks into you in shallow, teasing little grinds just to fit himself inside your tight pussy. So mean. Not giving a fuck about those teary whimpers leaving your mouth.

“They ever ngh- fuck you like this?” he rasps, dropping his head to leave little bites down your tender neck. “Ever h-having you crying for his dick like ngh- this?” And despite all his confidence, Toji didn’t want to hear the answer - didn’t want to know the truth. “Such a slut.”

Your nails rake angrily down his sculpted shoulders - a warning, and it’s about the only thing you can do as Toji speeds up. Faster. Deeper.

“Heh, what? Markin’ me up for others to hah- see?” he cooes, mockingly. And you could just cry as his grin widens, finally - finally - pulling his fingers out. “Why don’t you ngh- use your words instead?”

And you should probably breathe, probably tell him to fuck you exactly the way he wants to - to confess to him that this is all you’ve ever wanted on those lonely nights these past four months. But the both of you know that it’s more fun this way.

So instead, you smile sweetly, “F-fuck you. They do - a lot better, too.”

If only your voice hadn’t cracked so unconvincingly at the end - if only you hadn’t let out such a pornographic moan as Toji pulls your face to meet his. Kissing you over and over and his hips-

“I’m the one fucking you, doll.” he bites down on your lower lip, tugging and pushing at a senseless little rhythm - the complete opposite of his hips. “Remember that.” And that’s all that’s said before Tojis finally bottoming out all the way to the hilt. Heavy balls smacking sinfully against your ass, fat head just kissing your cervix. “It’s me. I don’t give a hah- shit if it’s been f-four mouths, it’ll always be ngh- me.”

The couch creaked in protest as Toji fucked you like it was the last thing he’d do. Like he was trying to fuck every thought of whoever came after him right out of you - along with those silly little thoughts about the divorce.

“B-but-” your eyes widen as Toji runs his mouth - as hasty and urgent as his movements now. Fingers snaking up to toy with your still-sensitive clit, not even drawing circles anymore - just messy, little patterns just to get you off. “We’re already-”

“You s-still think we’re oh- nothing but exes?” he questions, sounding as surprised as you felt. “We can’t stay ah- God, we can’t stay apart and you fuckin’ know it. So…”

You gulp, already knowing the answer to the question he was just goading you into asking. “So?”

“So…” Toji muses, giving your swollen lips a short, chaste peck. Whispering against them, “M’gonna hah- fuck you till everyone knows you’re mine.”

A promise that Toji Fushiguro was well and fully intent on fulfilling. And you didn’t doubt that he’d have any trouble with it, in fact.

Because he’s rutting into you so animalistically now, so so sloppy. Torn between savoring the feeling of your plushy walls squeezing him to insanity and abusing your poor cervix. Prominent veins making you feel a maddening little thump thump thump as he roams for that one-

“Ah! Hngh- Toji!”

Found it.

And Toji had everything he needed - you, his wife, spread so sinfully and stuffed to the brim with him. Hitting your sweet spot over and over-

“No loser’s gonna fuck you like this.” he breathes against your ear. “Have you ngh- feeling this good.”

“I- ngh- fuck fuck fuck, Toji-” you let out, hips mindlessly bucking down in a pathetic attempt to meet his rough thrusts. “S’too- hah- oh my god. S’too good-”

“Shut up.” Oh he sounds so absolutely wrecked. Sanity crumbling away bit by bit every time he’s plunging his cock - so painfully hard - into your wet pussy. “Do you even ah- realize how sexy you look right now?” Toji throws his head back, eyes still locked on you like it killed him to look away. “Never lettin’ anyone else s-see ya like this. They’re gonna look at you and see me-”

You don’t even know what he’s babbling about anymore. Just that his achingly hard cock was making such a mess of you, pulling back only to go deeper. Massaging all the right spots as fucked you harder into the couch.

“Me-” he gasps. “That date is gonna fuck- know,” Hips stuttering and absolutely filthy, “That cashier d-down the ngh- street that eyes you up every time is gonna know-” Angry. Desperate. So, so needy. “Your fucking lawyer- ngh- s’gonna know. They’ll s-see you and see me me me me-”

At this point you can only nod deliriously, letting out a broken little, “Hngh- yeah, wan’ that, Toji. Wan’ you so bad.”

Toji presses another chaste kiss - this time to your forehead. Whispering a quiet, “Then cum f’me, doll.”

You do - the hardest you ever think you ever have in your entire life. Thighs shaking, vision spotty, sparks of white-hot electricity going all the way from your hazy brain to where Toji was fucking you through it.

Muffling your moans with his mouth as he gives one, harsh thrust. Then spilling into your gummy walls, painting it all an obscene white with rope after rope of hot cum.

So wet and hot - with him. All him.

And you look so cute taking it all like the good little wife that you are, that he can’t help but press down on your lower stomach. Awe-struck at how your cunt gushes around him, coating his twitching cock as Toji fucks his seed deeper and deeper into you.

But, hell, that wasn’t his favorite part - not by a long shot. Instead, it was probably when you pulled him into his arms, whispering sweet little nonsense in his ear about “how you missed this” and “that date wasn’t real anyway” as he fucks the two of you through your highs. Sweet. Familiar.

“Oh, God-” he mutters into the crook of your neck, slightly calmer now. Much more clear-minded than the two of you were mere seconds before. “We broke the couch.”

And it was true - one side was sagging much more than the other. Though you can only let out a giggle in response. Doesn’t matter, the two of you’ll pick out a new one tomorrow - he always hated this new one, anyway. “Happy anniversary, wifey.”

---

“Damn kid, that ol’ dad of yours sure is running late.” Shiu crosses and uncrosses his legs with slight nervousness. Eyeing the small, dark-haired boy playing with blocks a few feet away, “Maybe we should-”

“It’s okay. He’ll be back.” Megumi deadpans, sounding like the absolute last thing on his mind was why his dad was taking way too long for what should’ve been a half an hour errand. Shiu - on the other hand - had his mind whirling with imaginations of traffic accidents or murders or- what if the two of you killed each other- “And he’ll bring back mama too.”

You could almost hear the record screech to a halt. The older man stared wide-eyed at a slightly-smiling Megumi. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“Wait- no, what did you-”

“Nothing.”

Because, hey, Megumi might’ve had to go without his favorite wolf plushie for a bit - but a magician never reveals his tricks, right?

A/N. So how does it feel to be played by a kid, hm?

Plagiarism not authorized.

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sirxaibs · 1 month ago

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Batfamily X Batmom!Reader

⁺‧₊˚My Sons Boyfriend⁺‧₊˚

Continuing my tim appreciation, Have a silly overprotective parents to one of their youngest kid

masterlist

Jason tattles that his younger brother has a boy over.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ The TV played some noir film neither of you were paying attention to black and white shadows flickering across the screen, the occasional husky voice of a detective muttering something about dames and danger. It was background noise. Everything was background noise right now.

Your back arched against the couch as Bruce’s lips trailed from your mouth to your jaw, his stubble scraping deliciously along your skin. You let out a soft, breathy laugh, tangled up in him, your knees bracketing his hips while his large hands gripped your thighs beneath the hem of your oversized shirt.

His tongue slid against yours again, deep and slow, and the kiss had long since lost any sense of restraint. You tugged at his shirt, fingers skimming up beneath it, palms exploring every inch of familiar skin. Bruce growled low in his throat, the sound rumbling against your lips as he leaned further into you, pressing you back until your spine met the couch cushions with a soft thump.

There were no patrols, no emergency calls, no villains trying to blow up the city and a damn good excuse to indulge in weeks of pent up affection with no one around to ruin it.

“What the fuck?!”

A voice cracked through the air like a gunshot, and both of you froze mid kiss, mouths still a breath apart, panting and flushed. Well no one around to ruin might not work if you have a Jason Todd for a child (even though hes an adult it still applies).

You didn’t even turn around.

“It’s a lazy day,” you said flatly, lips still swollen, one hand still fisted in Bruce’s shirt. “Go away.”

Jason’s voice rose another octave, and you could hear the trauma in it. “Are you two seriously making out like that on the living room couch? In the middle of the day?! seriously making out like teenagers right now?! I’ve seen less tongue in French films!”

You rolled your eyes and finally sat up, sliding off Bruce’s lap with a groan and adjusting your shirt though it didn’t help much. Bruce just rubbed at his face with one hand, exhaling through his nose like a man trying not to start swearing. Jason stormed around the couch, eyes narrowed, nose wrinkled. “You were all over each other! That was full on pre bedroom behavior!”

“Which we would’ve moved to,” you muttered, “we only do stuff out here when you guys for sure aren’t.”

“TMI LADY!! I live here!”

“So do we.”

“I grew up here! Do you know how many times I’ve had to walk in on emotionally scarring things? And now I have to add this to the list?”

You gave him a pointed look and gestured vaguely to Bruce, who was still slouched and half hard under the sweatpants. “You’re twenty something and you’ve walked in on worse. Remember the time you accidentally opened the panic room during our anniversary trip?”

Jason gagged. “Why would you bring that up?! I had finally repressed it!”

You shrugged, completely unfazed. “That’s why I didn’t jump out of my skin when you yelled. You’re one of the oldest. You’re basically numb to it by now.”

“That’s not how trauma works!”

“You’ll live.”

Bruce finally stood, setting a firm hand on your lower back as he stepped forward. “Did you interrupt just to complain, or is there a point?”

“Oh, there’s a point,” Jason said, smirking now, even as he pointedly avoided making eye contact with either of you. “Tim’s upstairs. With Conner. Door closed. Voices low. Lots of awkward pauses and ‘I dunno, what do you wanna do?’s. Figured someone with authority should stop it before I need a bleach rinse for my brain again.”

You and Bruce exchanged a glance. You raised a brow. “You think they’re…?”

“I’m just saying, I’m not doing the awkward sex talk with either of them. That’s your job.”

Bruce sighed through his nose again, rubbing his temples. “We should’ve eloped in Fiji.”

Jason clapped him on the shoulder as he passed. “You should’ve invested in a deadbolt and soundproof walls. You’ve got like fifty rooms. Go be gross in literally any other one.”

Bruce groaned, sitting up with the pained weariness of a man who just wanted five uninterrupted minutes with his partner. “I don’t know what’s worse,” he muttered. “You barging in, or the fact that you’re tattling like a six year old.”

Jason raised an eyebrow. “You can ground me later. But someone needs to knock before that kid goes full hormonal teenager with Superman’s clone.”

You rubbed your temples and slid off Bruce’s lap. “Can’t we just go one day without something weird happening in this house?”

“Nope,” Jason chirped.

Bruce stood, adjusting his shirt and shooting Jason a tired glare. “You’re not getting a thank you for this.”

Jason grinned. “I’ll settle for watching the fallout.”

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

The carpet was soft beneath your knees as you crouched near the top of the staircase, one hand gripping the railing and the other latched around your husband’s wrist. Bruce was not thrilled. “This is ridiculous,” he muttered under his breath, towering behind you in full grumpy dad form.

You shushed him. “Shh. This is important. Our son is dating.”

Bruce arched an eyebrow. “He’s not a child anymore.”

You gasped loudly and dramatically, a feeling attune like he’d just slapped you with a divorce paper. “How dare you say that to a mother’s face.”

“I feel like as a mother you should be letting him have space” he whispered dryly.

“It’s anything and everything for my baby,” you whispered back, “heartbroken.”

Bruce sighed, letting you pull him forward like some six foot tall human leash. He followed behind you, slouched and sulking like a teenager being dragged into a parent teacher conference. But he didn’t resist. Not really. At the end of the hallway, just far enough not to be heard but perfectly in view, Tim was standing awkwardly with his shoulder slightly bumping against the wall, halfway through some rambling sentence that didn’t seem to have an end. Across from him leaned Conner Kent Superboy himself smiling with the easy, confident charm of someone who knew exactly how good he looked.

You gasped again, softer this time. “He’s so nervous. Look at him. Our baby…”

“Don’t start crying,” Bruce warned.

“He’s got no game, Bruce.”

Bruce squinted. “…This is objectively better than his brothers.”

You nearly cackled. “Low bar, sweetheart.”

Tim fumbled again, scratching the back of his neck while trying to not look directly at Conner. Conner leaned in just slightly, arms crossed as he nodded along, totally relaxed. He said something with a grin, and Tim laughed clearly too loud, then looked down at the floor in horror.

You sniffled, eyes shimmering. “Look at our baby flirting…”

“He’s not a baby,” Bruce said, though his voice was quieter now. “He’s nearly eighteen.” And yet, he leaned a little more over your shoulder.

You smirked. “You’re watching.”

“I’m observing.”

“You’re parenting.”

Bruce sighed like the weight of the world was on his shoulders, crossing his arms as he stared harder at the two teens.

“What’s Kent’s clone doing here alone with him anyways?” he muttered, eyes narrowing.

“Ohhh,” you grinned, “now you care.”

“Of course I care,” Bruce snapped, more defensive than he meant to be. “That’s my kid.”

You nudged him with your elbow, whispering proudly, “Our kid.”

He didn’t respond to that but the corner of his mouth twitched. Down the hall, Conner leaned in and brushed something off Tim’s shirt something that wasn’t there. Tim went red, practically short circuiting.

Bruce straightened immediately. “Okay. That’s enough recon.”

“Oh, now it’s enough?”

“I’m getting my Batarangs.”

You caught his wrist before he could march off. “No. No Batarangs. No Bat glare. You said he’s not a baby, remember?”

“He wasn’t getting flirted with then.”

You snorted, still holding his arm. “I think your overprotective thing is hot.”

He paused. “That a fact?”

You smirked, glancing back toward your bedroom door. “Yes. Now let’s go back to our room lights off, no clothes, door locked this time and let the kids be kids.”

Bruce gave Tim and Conner one last skeptical look, then sighed. “If they start kissing, I’m interrupting.”

“No you won’t,” you said, dragging him back down the hall by the wrist again. “Because I’ll be too busy making out with you to let you get up.”

Despite that, the minute you headed to the room. Conner and Tim were happily walking towards the kitchen. making you drag your husband again to watch your boy. The kitchen was dimly lit, the only real noise coming from the soft hum of the refrigerator and the occasional rustle of snack bags. You and Bruce had found your new favorite spot behind the kitchen island, crouching low and trying your best not to make a sound, despite the undeniable excitement of spying on your son.

You had your phone held up, recording through the cabinet doors like a proud wildlife documentarian. Tim and Conner were in the next room, chattering nervously while they raided the pantry for snacks.

Bruce was less than impressed with the situation. “You’re unbelievable,” he muttered, glaring at you as if you were the one causing trouble.

You smirked, eyes never leaving the scene unfolding in the next room. “I practically raised him. I have the right to witness his first love.”

He grunted, his voice tinged with mild exasperation. “You’re literally crouched next to the coffee machine whispering commentary like it’s National Geographic.”

You held your phone at a slightly different angle, zooming in on Tim as he fumbled with a bag of chips. “And you’re crouched next to me, so what does that make you?”

Bruce looked at you, deadpan. “An unwilling accomplice.”

You shot him a look, trying not to giggle as you saw Tim’s hand hover uncertainly over a box of cookies while Conner casually leaned against the counter, looking way too smooth for someone who was probably still a teenager.

“Conner’s definitely a pro at this,” you whispered, shaking your head in amused disbelief. “Look at him, just leaning there. Like it’s nothing what if he just wants to play woth out boys feelings.”

Bruce sighed dramatically but didn’t move. “I can’t believe you’re doing this.”

“This is serious, Bruce. It’s parental responsibility.”

Bruce looked at you, his eyes softening. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

“Yeah, well, you love me.” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“I’ve got a lot of regrets today,” he muttered, but his hand brushed against yours in the dim light, soft and reassuring. Just as you were about to comment on Tim’s awkward attempt at getting a cookie into his mouth without looking too desperate, the kitchen door swung open with a familiar creak.

“Are you spying on Tim?” Dick’s voice rang through the space, sharp and amused.

Both you and Bruce froze, immediately making eye contact in a way that could only be described as a guilty deer caught in headlights moment.

Bruce was the first to recover. He straightened up quickly, stepping away from the island and crossing his arms like he was trying to physically distance himself from the ridiculousness of it all. “No,” he said instantly, as if the word would somehow erase the whole scene.

You, on the other hand, didn’t try to hide it. You looked up at Dick with wide, unapologetic eyes. “Yes,” you said, shrugging as though this was completely normal behavior for a concerned parent.

Dick raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms as he leaned against the doorframe with a smug grin. “You guys are so lame.”

You grinned back, unbothered by his teasing. “You think we’re lame, but when you’re a parent, you’ll understand.”

Bruce, clearly not keen on the whole ordeal, shot a look at Tim and Conner through the kitchen entryway. “I’m just making sure he’s not making any… stupid decisions.”

“Right.” Dick’s tone dripped with sarcasm. “Because you’re both really qualified for that.”

You shot him a sideways glance. “Hey, we did the best we could. And this is where you come in. Don’t think I didn’t see you sneak a peek when you thought we weren’t looking.”

Dick’s eyes widened for a second before he cracked a grin. “You two are hopeless.” He turned his attention back to the other room. “What are they even doing, anyway?”

You and Bruce both turned to look through the cabinets again, slightly distracted now that Dick was standing right there. Tim was holding a cookie out to Conner, his fingers trembling slightly, and Conner took it with a grin that could melt even the iciest heart.

“He’s handing Conner a cookie,” you said, your voice dripping with awe and mild concern. “A cookie. They’re not even talking about something deep or meaningful, like… I don’t know, saving Gotham or discussing conspiracy theories. It’s literally just this.”

Dick raised an eyebrow again, his grin widening. “You’re really invested in this?”

Bruce was rubbing the back of his neck, clearly torn between indulging your parental instincts and the embarrassment of being caught in such an absurd situation. “Yeah, we’re not stalking them. Just… observing.”

Dick snorted. “Sure, sure. Watching them like they’re some rare, endangered species.”

You looked at him deadpan. “They are.”

Bruce cleared his throat. “Look, we’ll stop when they stop… getting… weird.”

Dick gave the two of you an incredulous look. “You two are so ridiculous. Seriously.”

And with that, Dick pushed past you both to head upstairs, but not before he paused to make one last comment.

“If I ever catch you two creeping on me like this, I’ll start a family group chat called ‘Creepy Parents.’”

You and Bruce exchanged an amused glance. “We’ll take that risk,” you said,

Dick groaned, clearly not interested in sticking around for the ridiculousness, and disappeared upstairs.

You looked back at Bruce, who was still watching Tim and Conner, now in full parental protective mode. His brows were furrowed, a slight frown tugging at his lips.

“I guess we’re just going to wait this out?” you asked softly, leaning against the island.

Bruce nodded, but his tone was softer now, full of that deep, unspoken love only a parent could understand. “Yeah. But we need to be the ones to have that talk when they’re ready.”

You smiled, leaning into him, the whole world feeling a little less chaotic, even if the kids’ drama would never stop.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

Tim and Conner were sitting at the kitchen table now, their snack raid completed, with Conner casually leaning back in his chair, kicking his feet up on the seat across from him. Tim, on the other hand, was picking at his cookie, his eyes occasionally flicking nervously around the room.

Conner noticed Tim’s unease and raised an eyebrow. “Something wrong, Drake?”

Tim cleared his throat, his gaze shifting quickly toward the hallway, and then back to Conner, hoping his casual demeanor would mask the slight panic he felt. “Uh, no, everything’s fine.”

Conner smirked knowingly, crossing his arms over his chest. “You sure about that? ‘Cause I can’t help but notice your… parents have been acting a little weird.”

Tim froze. His heart rate quickened as the words hit him. He blinked at Conner, unsure if he’d heard him right. “What?”

“You know, they’ve been hanging around for a while,” Conner said, a slight laugh escaping his lips. “I can’t believe they’re still hiding behind the kitchen island.”

Tim’s face went white, of course he noticed it. his eyes darted toward the kitchen counter, his heart sinking into his stomach. His parents… They had been watching this whole time. He quickly looked away, pretending he hadn’t heard anything, his eyes shifting uncomfortably as if he could pretend that the observation had never been made. “You’re imagining things.”

Conner raised an eyebrow. “Right,” he said, unconvinced. “Maybe I am.”

But before Tim could settle into any sense of relief, he couldn’t help himself. His eyes glanced toward the cabinets, toward the hidden space behind the island where his parents had been crouched like secret agents, but the moment he saw something shift in the shadows, he quickly turned his head away. A blush spread across his cheeks, a mix of embarrassment and frustration bubbling up inside him.

He heard a muffled whisper coming from the kitchen, the faintest sound of your voice saying, “Do you think they noticed?”

His heart skipped. He knew they were there. He immediately looked back at Conner, who was now wearing an almost triumphant smirk, clearly enjoying this entire awkward exchange.

Tim’s face reddened even further. “Ugh, I hate you.”

Conner’s grin widened, but he didn’t press the issue. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, arms still crossed, looking like he was thoroughly enjoying the chaos Tim was going through. “your family is so weird”

Tim just buried his face in his hands for a second, trying to collect himself. It didn’t help that he could hear the whispering getting louder, still faint, but unmistakable. “No way. I think they didn’t notice. Maybe we can sneak away after they leave…”

“We?” Tim thought he heard Bruce’s voice this time. It made him stiffen.

His face was now a bright red, and he buried his face further into his arms, hoping it might all just go away. He could feel the heat creeping up his neck, his pulse racing. This was so embarrassing. Why couldn’t they have just left him alone? Why did his parents have to be so… so overly protective?

As his embarrassment grew, Tim stole another quick glance at the kitchen, only to see a shadow dart behind the cabinets. His stomach flipped, and he quickly turned away, biting his lip to keep from saying something he’d regret.

Conner’s eyes were sharp. “Yeah… they totally noticed,” he said, voice dripping with amusement. “You’re lucky I’m cool with this. You’re lucky I didn’t go tell them they’ve been caught. That would’ve been funny.”

“Conner, shut up!” Tim hissed, but the laughter that followed didn’t make it any better.

Somewhere from behind the cabinets, you whispered again, louder this time, “Maybe they’ll pretend they didn’t see us.”

Bruce’s voice was closer to a growl. “We’re being subtle, right?”

Tim’s body stiffened again, but this time he was ready. He shot up from his chair and took a deep breath. There was no going back now. “I’m going upstairs. You’re all insane.”

Conner chuckled, watching him go, clearly having the time of his life while Tim fumbled his way toward the hallway.

As Tim rushed out of the room, trying to hide the heat in his cheeks, you and Bruce exchanged a glance from your hiding spot, then reluctantly peeked around the corner to make sure your son had left the kitchen.

“We should’ve just went in our room,” you muttered, sounding almost defeated.

Bruce nodded, glancing up at you. “This is why I wanted to go back to the room.”

You raised an eyebrow. “And you couldn’t let that go?”

Bruce sighed, shaking his head. “I can’t believe we’ve been caught so many times.”

“But it’s worth it, right?” You flashed a teasing grin at him, clearly finding amusement in the awkwardness.

Bruce didn’t respond immediately, but he didn’t move either. He just kept watching the empty kitchen, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

Finally, he said, “I’d still rather be making out with you right now.”

You grinned. “One thing at a time, Bruce. One thing at a time.”

Bruce didn’t waste a second. The moment the last of Tim’s and conner’s footsteps faded up the stairs, he was on his feet, his usual quiet intensity shifting into something more playful albeit with a touch of authority.

Without a word, he moved toward you, his hand reaching for your wrist. Before you could even fully register his intent, he pulled you into his chest, his other hand gently cupping your chin as he tilted your face up to meet his. His lips were almost on yours, just inches apart, but he hesitated for a fraction of a second, as if savoring the moment.

“As much fun as that was,” he said in a low, husky tone, his voice thick with amusement, “it’s time for mommy and daddy time.”

Your heart skipped. You had to admit, despite the awkwardness of everything that just happened, the sudden shift in Bruce’s demeanor made your pulse spike. The playful tension in the air was thick enough to cut through. You could see the flicker of mischief in his eyes.

“Bruce…” you whispered, half trying to resist, half already giving in.

“Our boy will be fine” His voice was low, but there was a firm edge to it, a reminder that your playful surveillance time had come to an end. “You and me. Upstairs. Now.”

Before you could protest or offer some sarcastic response, he was already guiding you away from the kitchen island, his hand firm around your wrist. The way his grip tightened made it clear he wasn’t going to take no for an answer not that you really wanted to resist.

“Bruce, we can’t just…” you started to say, but you were quickly cut off as he kissed you, his lips catching yours in a brief, but intense press that stole your breath away.

He pulled back just enough to murmur, “No more distractions. No more spying. Just us.”

You were about to make a snarky comment, but all the words caught in your throat when he pulled you against him again, his arms wrapping around your waist. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, the way his strong frame seemed to draw you in closer.

“I’m not letting you get away that easily,” he said with a grin, his fingers finding the hem of your shirt, the playful glint in his eyes unmistakable.

Your breath caught as you felt his touch, suddenly aware of how much you’d been craving this intimate moment. The tension that had been building throughout the entire day between your kids, the spying, the ridiculousness was finally going to melt away, leaving just the two of you.

With a final, teasing smile, Bruce began leading you upstairs, his hand never leaving yours. The world outside your bedroom had faded into the background there was only him and you, and the quiet promise of some much needed time alone.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

Tim was lying face down on his bed, groaning into the sheets. If he could dig a hole and disappear into it, he would. He’d half expected his parents to hover maybe ask a few awkward questions. But full on mission mode surveillance? That was next level.

The door creaked open, and Tim didn’t even need to look to know who it was.

“I knew they were weird,” Conner’s voice came, all smug and sing songy. “But hiding behind the cabinets? thats weird.”

Tim rolled over with a groan, face still half buried in a pillow. “Can we not talk about it?”

Conner stepped in like he owned the place, casually flopping onto Tim’s bed with zero regard for personal space. “Dude, your mom was crouched like it was recon. I think she even whispered something about your ‘game.’ I’m emotionally scarred.”

Conner, of course, wasn’t far behind. He opened the door without knocking and stepped into the room, his usual easygoing grin plastered across his face. But there was something different in his eyes something softer. Maybe he was trying to ease the tension Tim was still feeling.

“You good?” Conner asked, leaning against the doorframe.

Tim turned his head just slightly. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… I dunno, everything’s just kinda weird today.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” Conner chuckled, but it wasn’t a mocking laugh. It was more of an understanding one. “Your parents… they’re something else.”

Tim groaned and rolled onto his back, covering his eyes with his arm. “Don’t remind me. I didn’t think they’d go full surveillance mode.”

Conner moved further into the room, sitting at the edge of the bed. “Well, they’re just looking out for you, you know? They’re probably a little overprotective, but… I mean, I guess I’d do the same thing if I were them.”

Tim half smiled at that, finally sitting up. “Yeah, but it’s a little much. I’m almost eighteen, not, like, seven.”

Conner gave him a side glance, his smile still there. “Right. You’re allowed to… y’know, have a life outside of your parents’ radar.”

“Thanks for the reminder,” Tim muttered, but it wasn’t with annoyance more like he appreciated Conner’s effort to lighten the mood. Tim glanced at Conner, his mind wandering as it often did when he was around him. Something about the way Conner carried himself, the way he was always so relaxed, so at ease it was easy to get lost in.

Conner seemed to sense it, his voice dropping a little lower. “So, uh… are you sure it’s just your parents that’s got you flustered? Or is it… something else?”

Tim blinked at him, caught off guard. “What do you mean?”

Conner leaned back against the headboard, looking over at him with a teasing smile. “I don’t know, just seems like you’ve got a lot going on in your head. And I mean, I did see how red your face was back there, so”

Tim immediately turned even more red. “Conner, I swear to God”

“Okay, okay, fine,” Conner laughed, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I won’t make it worse. But, uh… you do know you can talk to me, right?”

Tim let out a soft exhale, unsure of how to respond. He didn’t even realize how much he’d needed to hear that until now. “Yeah. I guess I just… didn’t want to make it weird.”

“Making it weird is kind of my thing,” Conner joked, but there was something reassuring about the way he said it like he wasn’t trying to force the conversation, but also wasn’t afraid to be open with him. Tim’s heart skipped a little at the casual warmth in Conner’s voice. He wasn’t sure if it was the way Conner was looking at him now, or just the comfort of knowing someone actually cared, but he found himself letting out a nervous laugh. “I’m definitely not the best at this… flirting thing. I’m just… I don’t know, overthinking it all.”

Conner’s eyes softened, and before Tim could protest, Conner slid closer on the bed. He nudged Tim’s shoulder lightly, his voice quieter now. “You don’t have to be perfect at it. I think you’re doing just fine.”

Tim froze, his pulse racing at the sudden closeness. “Wait, really?”

Conner smirked, but there was something genuine in his smile now. “Really. You’ve just gotta stop trying to be all… cool about it. Just be yourself. If someone can’t see how amazing you are, that’s their loss.”

Tim swallowed, trying to ignore the heat rising in his cheeks. “You’re… you’re the worst, you know that?”

But Conner just laughed, the sound light and effortless. “I know. But you like me anyway.”

Tim bit his lip, trying not to smile too much, but there was no denying the way his heart was beating faster now. Conner had always been the one to tease him, to make him laugh when things were tough. But this this felt different. The way they were sitting there, so close, the unspoken understanding between them it was the kind of connection Tim hadn’t realized he was craving.

“Alright, alright,” Conner said, standing up and giving Tim a teasing grin, “I’ll leave you to think about that. But you know I’m here, if you wanna… talk or whatever.”

Tim nodded, his throat a little tight, but he didn’t know what to say. Conner’s easygoing presence had a way of putting him at ease, and for the first time in a while, Tim felt like he was starting to understand what it meant to really be seen by someone.

“Thanks, Conner,” Tim muttered, his voice soft.

Conner winked as he walked toward the door. “Anytime, small bird. Anytime.”

As the door clicked shut behind him, Tim sank back against the bed, his heart still racing, but now for a different reason.

Conner: So…

Tim: Please don’t.

Conner: Your parents have been following us for like… an hour. I swear I saw your mom dive behind a trash bin.

Tim: If I ignore it, maybe it’ll go away.

Reader, whispering from the kitchen: They didn’t see us.

Bruce, deadpan: They definitely saw us.

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withleeknow · 7 months ago

Text

october 23rd.

pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff, slice of life; one ass grab, unedited bc i am a danger to society word count: 1k note: i whipped this up pretty spontaneously and i actually kinda loathe it lol but i still wanted to post smth bc it’s my anniversary of joining the fandom 🥺 also a little early bday post for mimo. the bunny in question is leebit but i couldn’t drop any names bc this is not idol specific lol. anywhomst happy jen(o)versary

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation / masterlist / ko-fi

Minho comes into your shared apartment, shrugging off his coat and taking off his shoes with minimal noise. It’s not that late — just a quarter past midnight — and you’re not a light sleeper by any means, but still.

He had told you not to wait up for him, that his work dinner might end late and he knew you had a long day. Minho patters on socked feet further into your home, expecting you to be in bed already sleeping, surrounded by your loyal trio of cats, and yet, it’s not the bedroom where he finds you.

Yes, you’re sleeping, but you’re on the couch, in front of the TV with Netflix’s question “Are you still watching?” written over a paused scene of the K-drama you’re both currently obsessed with. There’s a stuffed bunny in your arms, held tightly against your chest like it’s your most prized possession. Looks like you’ve been napping for a while now.

The white bunny is dressed in a navy hoodie, his eyes full of mischief that’s only emphasized by a toothy smile that he sports. It’s the plushie that Minho got for you during your vacation trip to Osaka last year, when you happened to spot the little fur ball in the window of a toy store and said it looked like your boyfriend. It’s become a great companion for you ever since you brought it home, something for you to hold onto whenever you miss your love.

Minho is a little surprised. You don’t usually force yourself to stay up for you, especially when you’re tired.

He doesn’t disturb you right away though. Instead, he heads toward the bathroom to change and freshen up for bed. You would probably kill him if he touched you in his outside clothes anyway.

When he returns some fifteen minutes later, he switches off the TV, tugs the bunny by its ears to free it from your embrace and chucks the thing haphazardly to the carpeted floor. It’s your prized possession, not his. Besides, you don’t need your little replacement Minho anymore now that he’s home.

When he scoops you in his arms, you stir awake, adorably confused as he carries you to the bedroom.

“Where’s my bunny?” Half a question, half a yawn.

“Hello to you too,” he mutters, laying you under the covers with narrowed eyes though he still leans in to press a greeting peck to the corner of your mouth. “I guess I don’t even matter as much as your little toy. Not even a ‘How are you?’”

“Okay, love of my entire life.” You roll your eyes with affection, pulling him down to kiss him properly. You can still taste it, the white wine that he must’ve had all night. “How are you? How was the dinner, big baby?”

“Boring. Unbearable. Should’ve just stayed home with you,” Minho laments, crawling into the space next to you, settling into your arms as you hug him close. This is what you should be doing all the time. With him, not some lame rabbit. “Why did you wait up? I told you you didn’t have to.”

You card your fingers through his soft hair, playing with the strands that curl at the nape of his neck. “Our anniversary’s tomorrow. Or I guess it’s today already. Just wanted to see you before the morning.”

“Would it make a difference?”

“I don’t know. I just wanted to see you.”

Your boyfriend detaches from you for a second to hold himself up on one elbow. He just stares at you for a brief moment, makes you blush under the scrutiny of his gaze. His big eyes, usually keen and sharp, always soften to a dizzying degree when they look at you.

Then Minho is leaning close to slant his mouth over yours again. “You’re cheesy today,” he comments, his tender smile still pressed against your lips. "Happy anniversary."

You only hum in response. One of his hands slides down your body to rest on your ass, giving it a little affectionate squeeze, the moment still entirely innocent despite his sneaky fingers.

You kiss for a while, lazily moving together in tandem, gentle hands holding onto the other person like a lifeline. In a way, you suppose you are. You’re each other’s lifelines, each other’s lighthouses.

When you pull away, it’s to let out a yawn that you can’t hold in anymore. “Happy anniversary”, you finally say back, sleepily. “Can you go get my bunny now? Did you leave him on the floor again?”

Minho rolls his eyes, yet it’s playful and completely endeared. “Your bunny again. That thing is on the floor where it belongs. You replaced me. Didn’t you use to call me your bunny?”

“Don’t do that to him,” you scold softly. “He’s our son. Have you seen the resemblance? You look like you literally birthed him.”

“Oh my god, why would you compare me to that thing like that?” Before you know it, Minho’s rolling over, resting half of his body on top of yours like a weighted blanket to pin you down, to get you complacent before you nag him any further about a toy bunny that he only sometimes gets jealous of. “You’re delirious. Please go to sleep.”

The next morning, you wake up to an empty bed, the warmth that you usually feel beside you gradually waning by the second. Minho’s gone, but greeting you in his place is a white bunny with a mischievous smile and a twinkle in his big eyes — truly a perfect replica of the man. The same bunny that he always makes a show of hating so much.

The sun is out to play, hanging high up in the sky, slithering through the cracks between the curtains to caress your hair. It feels like it’s gonna be a beautiful day; you’ve got your bunny, the sun, and if you focus hard enough, you’ll hear the sounds of pots and pans out there in the kitchen, Minho’s soft voice humming a tune you’re too familiar with, and the smell of fresh coffee and pancakes wafting all around.

#stray kids fic #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #skz fic #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz x you #lee know fluff #lee know scenarios #lee know x reader #lee know imagines #lee know x you #lee minho x reader #lee minho x you #stray kids #lee know #lee minho

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chrissssssmut · 9 days ago

Note

yandere Eunha? pls pls pls

MOONFLOWER 🌙

Yandere Eunha x Male Reader

The bell above the flower shop door chimed softly, like a sound too shy to exist during daylight.

You stepped inside, half-drenched from the cold rain outside, your hoodie dripping water onto the clean, aged wooden floor. The warm scent of fresh soil and sweet petals enveloped you. At first, it seemed no one was there.

Then she emerged from the back, humming a quiet tune. Her voice was delicate—like a lullaby barely holding itself together.

"You're early," she said, not even looking up. Her eyes were fixed on a bouquet of lavender she was trimming with little silver scissors. “But I suppose time doesn’t matter in a place like this.”

You blinked. “I… didn’t know there was a time limit.”

She finally looked up, brushing her short dark hair behind her ear. Her eyes met yours, and something cold passed through you—not unfriendly, just strange. A calmness too still to be human.

“This flower shop only opens from midnight to four,” she said with a smile. “That’s when the moonflowers bloom, after all.”

You nodded slowly. “Moonflowers?”

She pointed to the small cluster of white blossoms by the window. They glowed faintly in the dark, like ghostly stars. “They only open at night. They die when the sun touches them. I think that’s romantic, don’t you?”

You said nothing at first, unsure if she was joking. She wasn’t.

“I’m Eunha,” she added, stepping closer. “I take care of the flowers nobody sees. You’re the first customer in… weeks.”

You glanced around. It didn’t look abandoned, just secret. Alive in a way most places weren't anymore.

“I’m just here to get something for… someone,” you murmured. “Sorry, it was kind of a last-minute idea.”

“That’s alright,” she replied. “Most of the best things are.”

She reached behind the counter, pulled out a bundle of dark purple roses, and said, “These are for forgetting. But if you want something for remembering…” she trailed off, searching the shelves. Then she offered you a single moonflower, glowing faintly.

“For a person you want to remember forever,” she whispered.

You paid, unsure why your fingers trembled as you touched the petals.

You came back the next night.

Then the next. And the next.

Sometimes you brought excuses: birthdays, thank-you gifts, even imaginary anniversaries. Eunha never questioned them. She never asked for your name either—but she always remembered your face.

She always wore the same navy cardigan. Her scissors always glinted in the same quiet way. The shop was always filled with moonlight, even when the windows were closed.

“Do you sleep here?” you asked once.

She was wrapping a bouquet of white lilies. “I dream here,” she said. “Sleeping is something people do when they want to forget the world. I don’t want to forget anything. Especially not you.”

Your fingers twitched.

“…We barely know each other,” you said with a nervous chuckle.

“But I know what flowers you touch first,” she whispered. “And what colors make your eyes soften. And how your voice dips when you’re lying.”

She wasn’t joking.

And yet—she didn’t seem dangerous. Just… lonely.

You began to feel strangely guilty leaving her alone in the shop, night after night.

You stayed longer one night. The shop was quiet except for the soft ticking of an old wall clock and the distant sound of a train.

Eunha sat on the floor, legs tucked under her, trimming a batch of moonflowers. You sat near her, cross-legged, holding a small pot of violets.

“I think I like the moon better than the sun,” she murmured. “It doesn’t expect anything from you. It just… watches.”

You nodded. “The sun’s too loud anyway.”

She smiled. “That’s what I thought. You’re a night person.”

You glanced at her. “Are you?”

“No,” she said. “I’m just a you person.”

You didn’t respond. Her eyes lingered on you for a moment too long.

Then she stood and handed you a wrapped bouquet. “Take this. It’s free.”

“I can pay—”

“No,” she said, softly firm. “It’s for being here.”

You took it. On the card, instead of your name, she had written:

“For the boy who keeps the moonflowers alive.”

– E

You skipped a night. Just once.

You had work. You were tired. You didn’t think it mattered.

But the next morning, you opened your front door… and froze.

Your doorstep was covered—covered—in wilted moonflowers. Piled like snow. Every single petal had writing on it.

Your name.

Again and again. Dozens, maybe hundreds of times.

You picked one up with shaking hands. The ink had run slightly from the morning dew.

“Did you forget me?”

You stood there in silence, the petals blowing softly in the wind, like she had poured her sadness out in flowers.

You returned that night.

Eunha was already waiting, sitting by the register, scissors in her lap. She didn’t look up when you entered.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I got caught up with—”

“You don’t need to lie,” she whispered.

Her voice wasn’t angry. It was broken.

“I’m not mad. I just thought… maybe you were like me.”

She stood and walked toward you. Her steps were slow. Deliberate.

“I remember every second of every night you were here. What you wore. What you said. I even remember when you almost said my name and then swallowed it like it was a sin.”

“Eunha…” you began.

She touched your cheek. Her hands were cold.

“I know it’s scary. To be known like that. But I’m not a stranger. Not to you. You wouldn’t keep coming back if I was.”

“I—I just wanted flowers—”

“No,” she said. “You wanted someone who saw you when no one else did. That’s what I am.”

The bell above the door rang again. But no one entered. The door had opened… on its own.

She stepped back.

“I won’t make you stay,” she whispered. “But if you walk away… you’ll forget me.”

“What?”

“The moonflowers. They don’t survive in sunlight. Neither do memories like mine.”

You looked down at your hands. You were holding a single bloom. You hadn’t even realized she placed it there.

“If you leave, you’ll forget this shop. Me. Everything,” she said. “But if you stay… I’ll never let you go.”

You stood there in the dim glow of moonlight, heartbeat loud in your ears.

Part of you knew you should walk away.

Another part knew… you already belonged here.

She smiled softly.

“See? You’re already blooming.”

You didn’t speak.

Your hand stayed wrapped around the moonflower, the soft white petals cradled in your palm like snow that hadn’t melted yet.

The door creaked in the background—open, waiting.

But you didn’t move.

And neither did she.

“I don’t know why I’m staying,” you murmured, your throat dry.

She smiled. Not wide. Not triumphant. Just… soft.

“You don’t need to know,” Eunha said. “Some things bloom better in confusion.”

You looked toward the open door. The street outside was dark and empty. No cars. No footsteps. No wind. Like the world was waiting for your decision to finish forming before it could continue.

“…Is this real?” you asked.

She reached out and touched your wrist, her fingers wrapping around it with featherlight pressure.

“Does it feel real?” she whispered.

The moment stretched between you. Still, silent. The moonlight shifted across the petals in your hand.

You closed your eyes. And nodded.

The door swung shut behind you. By itself.

You didn’t flinch.

That night, she brewed tea from dried jasmine petals and served it in cracked ceramic cups.

You sat behind the counter with her, backs pressed against the wood, legs stretched out over scattered newspapers and flower trimmings.

Neither of you spoke for a while. The silence was warm. Familiar.

“Why do you work here alone?” you finally asked. “A shop like this… it feels like it should belong to someone older. Or sadder.”

“It does,” she said quietly. “It belongs to all the people who left and never came back.”

You turned to look at her, confused.

“I don’t mean it in a spooky way,” she smiled. “Just… you know how places collect ghosts of people who loved them?”

You nodded slowly.

“I’m one of those ghosts,” she added.

You studied her face—still, glowing faintly in the reflection of a nearby glass vase. Her dark eyes didn’t blink.

“Did someone leave you behind?”

Her hand brushed against yours. This time, she didn’t ask permission.

“No,” she said. “I’m the one who stays. I always stay.”

You stopped going home.

At first, it was accidental. You stayed too late. Slept in the back room. She brought you blankets. Hummed lullabies in the doorway.

Then, it became routine.

The world outside the flower shop started to feel unreal—like something remembered from a fading dream. Your phone stopped working. Messages didn’t send. Calls didn’t ring. You tried to leave once, just to grab something from your apartment, and the street outside was blank.

Like the city had folded inward without you.

You returned within minutes.

Eunha was waiting by the register, a soft, knowing smile on her lips.

“You’re part of the garden now,” she whispered. “That’s what happens when someone chooses the moon over the morning.”

You should’ve been terrified. You weren’t.

You felt… safe. Rooted. Like soil around your heart had settled.

You woke up to find her kneeling by your side, her fingers brushing against your hair, tucking a moonflower behind your ear.

“You talk in your sleep,” she said gently.

“What did I say?”

“You said my name,” she whispered, smiling. “Again. And again.”

You blinked. Your chest tightened. The air smelled of honey and damp earth.

“I think I’m losing time,” you murmured. “I don’t remember the last day I counted. Or the last meal I cooked.”

“Good,” she said.

You frowned.

“It means you’re growing. Time is a weed. You were always meant to be still.”

Still.

Still beside her. Still inside this flower shop. Still beneath the moonlight that never ended.

You didn’t resist when she leaned in and rested her head on your shoulder.

“You’re mine now,” she whispered. “A flower doesn’t argue with the vase that keeps it alive.”

Sometimes, she would talk to the flowers like they were people.

Sometimes, you found yourself doing the same.

Sometimes, she’d disappear for hours, and you’d panic—until she returned with handfuls of strange new seeds and a promise that she was always watching you, even when you couldn’t see her.

Sometimes, you felt the world outside call you again.

But it was distant. Like a half-remembered tune.

You stopped trying to answer.

Instead, you helped her press dried petals into books. You rearranged bouquets. You memorized the meanings of flowers and whispered them to each other like poetry.

Moonflower: “I wait for you in darkness.”

Forget-me-not: “Remember me even when you leave.”

Lily of the Valley: “You make me complete.”

Eunha began sleeping beside you. Or maybe she always had.

You dreamed of soil. Of roots. Of her.

You don’t know how long it’s been.

Time doesn’t enter this place anymore.

The bell above the door still rings occasionally—but no one enters. Or maybe no one can. The flowers still bloom. You still wake up with moonlight on your face and her body curled beside yours, warm and quiet and still.

“I think I’ve forgotten who I used to be,” you said once.

She kissed your forehead.

“You’re who you’re meant to be now,” she whispered. “You’re mine. You’re moonlight. You’re home.”

Outside, the sky never changes. The street is always quiet.

But inside this flower shop, everything grows.

Even love.

Especially love.

#yandere kpop #yandere #yandere stories #yandere x reader #kpop yandere #yandere story #yandere scenarios #yandere x male reader #yandere fic #yandere fanfiction #yandere fantasy #viviz eunha #gfriend eunha #eunha #kpop fic #kpop fanfic

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amadeness · 8 months ago

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── .✦ Dating Bakugou Katsuki - general headcanons (x male reader, time-skip)

WORD COUNT: 1097

── .✦

It takes him an unbelievable amount of time to realize he likes you. But once he does, he’ll be extremely straightforward. (He believes it will be easier for him once he gets rejected.)

Somehow always secretly knew that he was into guys but decided to ignore it. He wasn’t really interested in relationships, to begin with.

He’s not gay. He just really likes you. A man. (His words. He doesn’t want to label himself.)

Invites you on a date but forgets to tell you that it’s a date and not just you two hanging out. Realizes in the middle of the night and then just casually drops: “Oh yeah, this is a date. I like you.” like it’s not that big of a deal. Gets upset when you stare at him in confusion after.

Might try to act romantic in the beginning, it’s what he always assumed relationships are about. But once he realizes it’s not working for him, he’ll drop it pretty quickly. (Doesn’t mean that he can’t be romantic on occasion. It’s just it only works when he’s not actually trying.)

Nothing is stopping YOU from being romantic tho, if you know what I mean.

His love languages are food and fighting. He’ll try to feed you delicious food while complimenting anything you cook (unless you’re like… really bad. Then he’ll try to teach you.)

Everything you two do is a competition. It was like that even before you started dating but now he doesn’t get as angry when you win, just pouty. He enjoys seeing you getting better at whatever you do, it’s also a great way to spend time with each other.

The big spoon. Feels like he’s keeping you safe like this.

He’s not easing his family into anything. He’ll just casually drop that he has a boyfriend at a family dinner and move on. The fact that it was after about half of a year of you two dating isn’t that surprising.

Will refuse to elaborate when anyone asks any following questions.

The squad had to figure it out on their own. Maybe after months of him acting weird, Denki accidentally crashes your date. Katsuki still refuses to say anything, so you’ll have to be the one to break the news.

Doesn’t really get jealous. Is more offended that this whoever thought they could take his place.

He really enjoys doing simple everyday tasks with you - think cooking, grocery shopping, and cleaning. Being a pro might make some of this a bit more complicated due to the possibility of being recognized in public, but that doesn’t stop the two of you.

Personally commissions matching pieces of jewellery for your three-month anniversary. A ring (that he wears on a chain around his neck) for him and whatever you prefer for you. Both pieces can be used as trackers in case of emergencies and are made from (almost) indestructible material. Will sulk if he sees you’re not wearing it.

── .✦ Pro-Hero!reader

On the fence about working with you. Seeing you and personally making sure that you’re doing alright is easing his anxieties. Sometimes he can get a bit distracted tho.

But don’t be mistaken. He knows how strong you are and that you can take care of yourself just fine, he probably wouldn’t be into you otherwise. That doesn’t mean he can’t be anxious.

You probably went to a different hero school. You first met during a joint training/license exam and when you guys graduated, you started working for the same agency.

He’s fascinated by your efficiency on the field and strategic thinking. Your first real conversation was him asking you to spar.

── .✦ Civilian!reader

Doesn’t matter if you have a quirk or not, he’ll insist on you learning self-defence and will teach you personally.

What attracted him to you was your fearlessness while facing any kind of danger. That doesn’t mean he isn’t angry any time you get in danger’s way without you needing to.

You two probably met during some kind of emergency. You did something stupid to help apprehend the villain or save another civilian. First, he screamed at you for being too reckless. Then he complimented you on your quick thinking and courage.

Later he found out that you frequent his favourite restaurant/bar and you started talking. When the squad found out, they decided to befriend you too and adopt you into the friend group.

── .✦ nsfw

A power bottom. Wants to feel the maximum amount of pleasure but doesn’t want to give up control.

Nothing happens until he’s the one feeling it. You’re horny but he’s not? Great, take care of it on your own.

Your first time together was awkward. He refuses to talk about it in advance and just… believes that you two will figure it out as you go. The night ends with a ruined orgasm, bruise and one pouty blond.

After that, he was finally convinced to have a proper conversation with you. He wouldn’t look into your eyes the whole time, but he was surprisingly straightforward about his likes and dislikes, carefully listening to everything you’ve said.

Praise kink, but no degradation, please.

Bondage is also a big, non-negotiable no for him. As well as breath play. (both giving and receiving)

I think he’d be against consciously hurting you in general.

On the other hand, he’s really into leaving hickeys and edging. (giving)

Really into quickies if he’s the one initiating. He refuses to do it in any “weird” or unsanitary places but around the house? His favourite was the kitchen counter. (He was strictly against it at first but then it just happened and he enjoyed it a bit too much. He had to disinfect the place three times before he was calm again. Now he sometimes gets horny while cooking because he keeps thinking of it.)

Starts out rough and fast. The more rounds, the gentler and slower he gets, craving more affection.

Expects and loves aftercare, even tho he’ll pretend he hates it at first and that you don’t need to fuss about him.

Help to clean both him and the bed up before burying under the fresh covers together to cuddle and talk. Doesn’t matter if it’s about the sex you just had or about your day. He just wants to listen to your voice while lying on your chest and tracing patterns into your naked skin.

Will act annoyed if he can’t walk the next day but you both know that he wouldn’t have it any other way.

── .✦ (please excuse any mistakes, i'm not a native speaker)

#amadeness #x male reader #male reader #m!reader #bakugou katsuki x male reader #bnha headcanons #katsuki bakugou x male reader #bakugou x male reader

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avonne-writes · 8 months ago

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Uuh can I ask for "seeing their partner in their clothes for the first time"?? 🥹

Thank you, lovelies! 💕 I wrote a short HS AU drabble set during their first college year.

The smell of eggs, bacon and pancakes pulls Bucky out of his sleep like a magic spell perfected to activate some primal zombie reflex to hunt for food. He kicks his blanket off and drags himself out of the soft nest of his and Gale's bed like the undead he imagines he is. Shuffling, bleary-eyed, jaw open wide around a series of yawns as he makes his way to their bedroom door scratching his chest through his pjs.

When he opens it and pokes his head out, he finds Gale sitting at their tiny kitchen table with one of his legs pulled up and his head resting on his knee. His cheek bulges from the pressure. Bucky wants to bite it.

"Good morning." He says and throws himself down across from Gale with a sigh. He gets a sleepy hum in response and a plate packed with scrambled eggs pushed in front of him. "I'm a zombie."

"Walking Dead or Last of Us?" Gale just rolls with it, amused, then gets up to stand by the stove and flip the last pancake.

And that's when Bucky’s sluggish senses notice - the white shirt Gale's wearing is one of Bucky's soccer jerseys that he never used last semester. On his back, Bucky's name and number, and under the shirt, only black boxer shorts.

Bucky's brain short circuits.

He has seen Gale wearing his clothes countless times before, but never his jersey. Never something that had Bucky's name on it in large, blocky font.

The way Bucky’s blood rushes south is exactly like the first time when he lent Gale one of his hoodies. They had been dating for a grand total of five days at that time, still figuring out what it even meant to be dating, and they hid in the back of the library to make out. But, trying to save on the bills, the school turned the heating down in that section. Real smart move if you hope to draw more students in...

Bucky still remembers how Gale shivered as they stood there kissing, goosebumps on his arms. Later, he admitted that it was just a side effect of his excitement at kissing his boyfriend, but back then, Bucky thought he was cold. He didn't think twice, just shrugged his thick hoodie off his back and offered it to Gale.

The moment Gale's blond head emerged from the fabric, the sleeves pulled down over his wrists, Bucky knew he had unlocked a dangerous path for his thoughts. Within seconds, his mind had already conjured up images of Gale wearing various pieces of his clothes, smelling like Bucky, walking around at school showing everyone he belonged to Bucky. And just like that, Bucky was blindingly hard.

He still cringes thinking of his awkward, ambling gait as they walked out past the librarian ten minutes later.

This time though, there's nothing to be embarrassed about. If he had to bet, he’d say this was the very purpose why Gale put the jersey on.

Barely biting back a grin, he walks over to Gale and puts his hands on his waist. As he expected, Gale melts into him instantly, putting his free hand on Bucky’s while he pokes at the last few pieces of bacon with the spatula.

Bucky tucks his face into Gale's sleep-warm neck and smiles. He plays with the hem of the shirt. "Did I forget an anniversary?"

"No." Gale snorts, shutting off the stove. He drops the spatula to hold Bucky's other hand too, swaying in place. "I just felt like it."

Bucky nuzzles Gale's neck, then murmurs into his ear. "I changed my mind." His spreading grin makes the corners of his eyes crinkle.

"I'm not a zombie, I'm a caveman!" He exclaims with delight and lifts Gale an inch from the floor to drag him towards the bedroom as Gale laughs.

Half an hour later, when they sit down to eat their breakfast at last, Gale pretends to be miffed that it has gone cold, but the light in his eyes tells Bucky the truth. This won't be the last time Gale wears his jersey, he's sure.

#mota #buck x bucky #gale cleven #john egan #clegan #my writing #hs au #sorry if it’s incoherent i'm super sleepy but wanted to post it 🙈#prompt fill

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rippleclan · 7 months ago

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RippleClan: Moon 72

Wolverinekit doesn’t understand why everyone seems so far away and is sad to learn from Honeybuzz and Weevilpaw that her eyesight is failing.

[Image ID: Honeybuzz and Weevilpaw talk to Wolverinekit and Estherfern. Estherfern says, “Well? Fix her.” Under Honeybuzz, it says LEVEL UP! CONSTANTLY FIDDLING WITH TOOLS -> SKILLED TOOLSMITH. Under Wolverinekit, it reads + PERMANENT CONDITION: FAILING EYESIGHT. Under Estherfern, it says - CONDITION: RECOVERING FROM BIRTH.]

The anniversary of RippleClan was by far one of the greatest things Weevilpaw had seen in her short life. She had never imagined the world could be so warm back when she was a kit. The entire Clan, kits and elders and all in between, frolicked in the softer sands that lined the stunning ocean. If that day was meant to celebrate all RippleClan meant, it succeeded.

Tallowpaw chased Littlekit around the sand, both toms laughing and yowling their heads off. Rabbitjoy, Mitespark, Lavendertwist, and Potterypaw performed a show along the edge of the waves, depicting the war with AshClan and the loss of Downstar’s first life. Half the Clan watched them as they shared tongues and mused over their own memories of the events (Halibutdusk mused on the danger in romanticizing war while Clammask reminded her mate to just enjoy the show). Estherfern sat with her kits, probably giving them some grand speech on the God who brought her to RippleClan and the nature of StarClan (Weevilpaw understood she agreed to a life of spiritual discussion when she became an apprentice, but really, did Estherfern not know how to talk about anything else?).

Weevilpaw, meanwhile, traipsed through the waves, purring whenever fresh foam slapped at her legs. Some of the petals that she stuck in her fur (ever since Troutpool put them in at the cleric’s meeting, a gentle reminder of RippleClan’s first cleric) drifted off into the ocean, but that was alright. Weevilpaw could always get more!

Off to the side of the festivities, past where James dipped Lightningkit and Cobaltkit in and out of the water, past where Downstar and Weedfoot laughed at the old father’s antics, Wildclaw and Rattlepelt gazed off into the glistening blue. Rattlepelt laid in the sand, but kept her head high, letting the light bounce off her eyes. The water soaked the tail of Rattlepelt’s fox pelt, but the artisan didn’t seem to mind. There was a softness to her posture that Weevilpaw had never seen. She couldn’t help but approach them.

“If this is what every anniversary is like,” Weevilpaw chirped, catching Wildclaw’s eyes first, “I never want it to end!” Weevilpaw hopped out of the water, shaking out her pelt. Petals drifted into the wet sand, which stuck tight to Weevilpaw’s dripping legs.

“My siblings and I were just kits during the first anniversary,” Wildclaw laughed. “All four of us pretended we were great whales hopping out of the water.” Wildclaw hopped over Rattlepelt as Weevilpaw approached. She leaned into Weevilpaw and added, “I asked Oilstripe earlier. We’ve got a lot of ghosts celebrating with us today.” Were Harvest and Robinkit in their numbers?

Weevilpaw glanced toward Anchovypaw and his littermates. They were all talking with Rapidleaf, practicing some basic battle moves. Anchovypaw whipped around Currentpaw, batting and kicking his brother, utterly confident in his body. They seemed to be coping with their losses… still, did Anchovypaw struggle to look at Rattlepelt the same way Weevilpaw did? Did he hurt when he saw the bite marks on Rattlepelt’s shoulder, the scars yet to fade? Still, she was smart enough to know the true scars wouldn’t fade if they were ignored.

A premonition of Rattlepelt stood out of her real body and strolled deeper into the crowd. Her pensive gaze steadied Weevilpaw’s nerves. She stood in the premonition’s path as it vanished. When the idea to leave came upon Rattlepelt, rather than an easy escape, she saw Weevilpaw before her.

“Are you keeping your wound clean?” Weevilpaw asked.

“I’ve been making sure she does,” Wildclaw promised.

“I don’t know when you became the responsible one,” Rattlepelt sighed, purring slightly at the way her mate stood tall.

“I’ve always been responsible,” Wildclaw insisted, once more taking a seat by Rattlepelt. “Just not in the way others consider responsible.”

“Weevilpaw’s father would say otherwise,” Rattlepelt scoffed. Wildclaw shoved the fox pelt’s head over Rattlepelt’s eyes. Rattlepelt laughed for the first time in Weevilpaw’s memory.

“I’m glad you’re doing better, I really am,” Weevilpaw sighed, swallowing the nerves that bit at her confidence. “You… seem more like the cat Honeybuzz told me about.”

“I feel more like myself,” Rattlepelt said, shoving the fox pelt back to its proper place. “When we tell the other Clans the truth, I’ll be sure to thank you and your friends publically. Thank you for stopping me.”

“We just wanted to keep everyone safe,” Weevilpaw chuckled awkwardly. Downstar had asked all of RippleClan not to discuss the powers of the three kits for now, giving the other clerics time to figure out how exactly they possessed said abilities. Just having RippleClan ask about her strange, hard-to-trigger premonitions was overwhelming enough. Weevilpaw did her best to take the brunt of the hard work for Anchovypaw and Wolfpaw, but she couldn’t handle the curiosity of four more Clans on her shoulders!

“Maybe someday we’ll be able to joke about you almost taking off Rattlepelt’s shoulder,” Wildclaw chuckled, nudging her mate’s wounded shoulder.

“A responsible cat would know better than to even suggest joking about that,” Rattlepelt huffed. She gently kicked Wildclaw’s leg and sent her tumbling into Rattlepelt’s fox pelt.

“You’re the artisan,” Wildclaw chuckled, happily lounging on top of Rattlepelt. “You should recognize how good a story this is.”

“Maybe I’ll see it when I’m not traumatized,” Rattlepelt scoffed.

“Weevilpaw!” Honeybuzz called from the other side of the beach. Drumtooth and Elmsprout watched over most of Estherfern’s kits while Honeybuzz stood with Estherfern and Wolverinekit to the side of the celebration.

“It’s nice to meet you, Rattlepelt,” Weevilpaw said, backing up. “Your true self, I mean.” Weevilpaw left the pair to their gentle bickering and weaved through the crowd. Honeybuzz waited patiently for her beside their fellow cleric.

“Sorry to pull you from your partying,” Honeybuzz said, touching noses with his apprentice, “but Estherfern has asked for our help with Wolverinekit. With Yarrowpaw’s dead eye, you’ll need more lessons on eye care than I had at your age.”

“Is something wrong with Wolverinekit’s eyes?” Weevilpaw asked.

“Care to explain?” Estherfern sighed, careful gaze burrowing into her daughter’s long fur.

“You’ve been busy!” Wolverinekit huffed, puffing up like her angry namesake. “I thought it would fix itself!”

“I’m not a healer, Wolverinekit, I’m a priestess,” Estherfern said with a smooth shake of her head. “I can’t help you with these problems. You should have spoken with Honeybuzz sooner.” Technically, Estherfern was a cleric now, not a priestess; she should have been learning medicine, just like Weevilpaw! But a shared glance between Weevilpaw and Honeybuzz silenced the building frustration.

“So tell Weevilpaw what you told your mother and I,” Honeybuzz said.

“Everything started looking funny last moon,” Wolverinekit grumbled, kicking the sand. “I can’t see inside the nursery at night, it’s too dark. I need to really look at you to really see you.”

“Any issues with blurriness or color?” Honeybuzz asked. He peered into Wolverinekit’s eyes, searching for the sort of visual differences Weevilpaw once noticed in Yarrowpaw.

“I don’t know,” Wolverinekit huffed. “How do I know if what I see is what you see?”

“What color do you think I am?” Honeybuzz asked.

“Your head or your body?” Wolverinekit sighed. “Momma, I don’t like this. Can we stop?”

“Darling, we need to figure out what’s wrong with you,” Estherfern sighed. “Be patient.” She licked the top of Wolverinekit’s head. Weevilpaw hummed softly, studying Estherfern. Who was this strange ‘priestess’?

“Weevilpaw, perform the vision tests we gave Yarrowpaw when she started her apprenticeship,” Honeybuzz said, stepping back. Weevilpaw shot lightning through her paws. Time to work!

“Wolverinekit, I want you to stare right at Honeybuzz,” Weevilpaw ordered, moving next to her mentor. “I’m going to move, but I don’t want you to look at me, keep looking at Honeybuzz. Tell me when you can’t see me anymore.” This test fascinated Weevilpaw when Honeybuzz first showed it to her after her apprenticeship, gauging the severity of Yarrowpaw’s condition so Rapidleaf could adapt her training. She just hoped she did it right….

Weevilpaw crept to the side, step by step. Wolverinekit kept her eyes on Honeybuzz. Estherfern stared at Weevilpaw while she moved. Weevilpaw tried not to make eye contact.

“Stop!” Wolverinekit called. Weevilpaw shared a glance with Honeybuzz. She stood at an angle to Wolverinekit. The young molly should have been able to see Weevilpaw move until she was standing beside her. Weevilpaw was only halfway there.

“Are you sure you can’t see me move?” Weevilpaw asked, batting a paw in the air.

“I can’t see you unless I look at you,” Wolverinekit huffed, breaking her gaze from Honeybuzz. Her chaotic fur drooped. “That’s… not normal, is it?”

“They’ll fix it,” Estherfern promised, quickly pressing her nose into Wolverinekit. Wolverinekit nuzzled her mother absentmindedly. Estherfern tucked Wolverinekit close to her. “Well? Fix her.”

“There’s more we need to understand about her vision,” Honeybuzz explained. “There are a few more tests we should conduct. The problem is, Wolverinekit hasn’t been injured, and she displays no other signs of illness from what I see. I don’t know enough yet to say for certain, but there’s a chance this could simply be part of her blood.”

“What’s the cure to that?” Estherfern huffed. Honeybuzz took a long, slow breath.

“Weevilpaw, can you take Wolverinekit back to the festivities?” Honeybuzz asked. “She might like bothering Trumpetspore for a while.”

“You’re talking about me,” Wolverinekit snapped, jumping away from her mother. “I should hear what’s wrong with me!”

“It isn’t about that, Wolverinekit,” Weevilpaw groaned. “I’ll explain it to you later.” She waved Wolverinekit over. Wolverinekit glared at Honeybuzz, but followed Weevilpaw anyway. Honeybuzz lowered his voice and moved closer to Estherfern. Weevilpaw was grateful Wolverinekit couldn’t see the anger blossoming over her mother’s face.

“How bad is it, Weevilpaw?” Wolverinekit asked as she and Weevilpaw strolled toward the ocean. Waspdawn jogged past the two mollies, his daughters at his heels, laughing. Waspdawn looped around Drumtooth and Elmsprout, but Yellowkit and Stormkit charged into Boughkit, Brightkit, Foamkit, and Thunderkit. The group collapsed into a pile of flailing limbs and cries of mock outrage. Weevilpaw’s tensed shoulders eased as she sat with Wolverinekit along the edge of the water.

“My best guess?” Weevilpaw sighed. “If you’re like Yarrowpaw, I don’t know if you’ll ever see things like everyone else does.” Wolverinekit nodded softly, pulling her tail close. Weevilpaw wrapped her tail around the younger molly. “That might not be all that bad! I know it might be sad, but there’s still a lot you can do. The Clan will make sure you can achieve whatever you want to achieve.” Behind them, Estherfern’s pelt prickled and her lips curled slightly as she spoke with Honeybuzz. Wolverinekit remained unaware.

“I used to see more,” Wolverinekit grumbled. “Do you think I’ll go blind like Yarrowpaw?”

“She’s only blind in one eye,” Weevilpaw said.

“You know what I mean!” Wolverinekit huffed, the prickles in her pelt matching her mother.

“I really can’t say what will happen,” Weevilpaw groaned as the ocean licked her paws. “I promise that I’ll learn whatever I can to help you out, cure or no cure, blind or not.” Wolverinekit just stared at Weevilpaw. Weevilpaw did her best not to break away from the stare. She coughed awkwardly and said, “I helped you once, right? Made sure you got out of the nursery with your littermates. Don’t you think I can help you again?”

Estherfern stalked away from Honeybuzz, tail thrashing. This time, Wolverinekit noticed her mother’s posture. Her head followed Estherfern all the way back to her kits. She settled down amongst her rambunctious kittens, head turned away from Wolverinekit and Weevilpaw. Weevilpaw could guess what Honeybuzz told her.

“I trust you, Weevilpaw,” Wolverinekit mumbled.

“Thanks, Wolvy,” Weevilpaw sighed.

(Weevilpaw: 7, female, cleric apprentice, adventurous, curious about StarClan)

(Wildclaw: 64, female, caretaker, fierce, trusted advisor, good fighter)

(Rattlepelt: 55, female, artisan, thoughtful, leather artist)

(Honeybuzz: 20, male, cleric, daring, skilled toolsmith)

(Wolverinekit: 4, female, kit, skittish, always asking questions)

(Estherfern: 106, female, cleric, bloodthirsty, great mediator, prophecy seeker)

During the anniversary celebration, Tallowpaw plays with Littlekit too long in the sun. He gets heat exhaustion while the small kit gets heat stroke.

[Image ID: Honeybuzz yowls at Tallowpaw and Littlekit, “Get in the shade, now.” Under Littlekit, it says + CONDITION: HEAT STROKE. Under Tallowpaw, it says + CONDITION: HEAT EXHAUSTION.]

(Littlekit: 3, male, kit, skittish, splashes in puddles)

(Tallowpaw: 8, male, historian apprentice, nervous, splashes in puddles)

(Honeybuzz: 20, male, cleric, daring, skilled toolsmith)

Wolfpaw, Waspdawn, Silverpaw, and Puddlewhisper go hunting.

[Image ID: Silverpaw, Puddlewhisper, Waspdawn, and Wolfpaw patrol together. Under Silverpaw, it says + NEW SKILL: QUICK WITTED.]

---

The bounties of summer, with extra herbs to fatten meals and strengthen the Clan, did not mean less hunting for Wolfpaw. As Waspdawn loved to stress, growing careless on the hunt was always a bad omen, regardless of the season. While summer meant more time to memorize the various intricacies of the warrior code, Wolfpaw and Silverpaw still had to join their mentors on hunting patrols. Codekeepers didn’t just sit around camp waiting for codebreakers, after all.

“If the historians say we can’t hunt squirrels for a while,” Silverpaw asked as she strolled alongside Puddlewhisper, leading Waspdawn and Wolfpaw, “does that mean we have to investigate every dead squirrel we come across?”

“If the death looks suspicious,” Puddlewhisper admitted, “but if someone were to kill a squirrel, I doubt they would leave the body lying about. Still, they’d have no reason to. There are many other creatures we can hunt. We can allow the squirrels to regrow their numbers for a while. We don’t need more squirrel pelts.”

“Lavendertwist noted an increase in the rat population to the southwest,” Waspdawn explained, catching Wolfpaw’s eye. “I think you’re both ready to hunt down rats. They’re not much different from mice. They’re simply sleeker, quicker, and a bit more vicious. This should help you learn how to identify rats with disease. Sometimes we’re asked to investigate things like that when the clerics or caretakers need a paw. That reminds me, Puddlewhisper, we should ask Honeybuzz if the apprentices can sit in on diagnostic lessons with Weevilpaw.”

As Waspdawn went on, Silverpaw trailed back, walking on Wolfpaw’s other side. She copied Waspdawn’s face with a comical grimace. She mouthed along to his words, crossing her eyes in the process. Wolfpaw slapped her sister’s shoulder, but couldn’t stop herself from giggling. Waspdawn cleared his throat. Wolfpaw’s spine arched. She glanced back to her mentor with big, awkward eyes and half-tilted, apologetic ears. To her surprise, Waspdawn froze with a few paws off the ground, mouth stuck mid-word. He tumbled to his side like a knocked-over pot.

“Sorry!” Wolfpaw yelped, squeezing her eyes tight. “I’m sorry! It’s been happening more when I’m nervous. I’m sorry, Waspdawn!” Waspdawn, broken from his spell, scrambled back to his feet. Silverpaw and Puddlewhisper stared at Wolfpaw and further burned her pelt.

“Are you alright, Waspdawn?” Puddlewhisper asked as her brother shook out his pelt.

“I barely felt it,” Waspdawn said as Wolfpaw ducked her head. “Still, could you and Silverpaw give me a moment with Wolfpaw? We won’t be long.” Wolfpaw burned hotter as the other two mollies slowly continued on their path. Silverpaw’s feather-covered tail brushed Wolfpaw’s back as she walked off. Wolfpaw kept her eyes firmly locked on the well-trod grass.

“I wasn’t trying to freeze you,” Wolfpaw promised, heart pounding. “I promise I’ll be more careful where I look. I know it could be dangerous to freeze someone on accident. I’m sorry I can’t control myself like Weevilpaw or Anchovypaw. I won’t let this happen again.”

“You don’t need to panic, Wolfpaw,” Waspdawn said. “I’m not upset.”

“But someone else could be,” Wolfpaw gulped, “or I could freeze a Clanmate during a battle on accident and get them killed! Or I look at someone while we’re swimming and they sink to the ocean floor!” Wolfpaw wouldn’t even open her eyes now. “I know right now this wasn’t a problem, but it can’t keep happening. I have a responsibility to use my stare wisely. I can’t brush this aside.”

“That might be true,” Waspdawn sighed, “but Wolfpaw, you do remember you’re only seven moons old, right?” Wolfpaw risked opening her eyes. Waspdawn’s paws peeked into the top of her vision. She carefully lifted her head. Waspdawn sat in front of her, blinking slowly. His half-tail tried to reach his paws, but failed, leaving it awkward at his side.

“Why does my age matter?” Wolfpaw asked softly.

“You’re an apprentice,” Waspdawn reminded the fuzzy gray molly. “You’re more than allowed to make mistakes.”

“Not with this,” Wolfpaw huffed with a hard shake of her head.

“If you panic yourself over a mistake this small, you’ll never master your ability.” That did nothing to stop the burning in Wolfpaw’s blood. She shoved her head back down, but Waspdawn hooked his paw under her chin and forced her to look up. “I bring up your age, Wolfpaw, because at this point in your life, it is your responsibility to learn and make mistakes. Regardless of the sort of talents you possess, you can learn from incidents like this and master your skills.”

“That doesn’t sound right,” Wolfpaw mumbled, only managing to stare at Waspdawn’s chest rather than his careful gray eyes. “If I had frozen the Shardling earlier, Harvest and Robinkit might not have died.”

“Your powers saved the lives of my kits and every other cat in the nursery,” Waspdawn reminded her, ducking his head to once more look Wolfpaw in the eye. “You helped Weevilpaw fight Rattlepelt when she was possessed. When I heard what your sister saw in her premonition, I had nightmares for days on end about what could have happened had you not intervened. That’s two times you’ve saved my sons and daughters. You were still a kit when that happened, and you still did more than anyone would have asked you to. You’ve already done enough, and I’m sure you’ll continue to impress me. You can afford to give yourself grace as you train.” Wolfpaw took a deep breath. Waspdawn copied her. The pair held their breath like Paleseed had shown them, two separate lessons coming together in one moment, and then they let it go.

“It’s hard to know how to practice my stare,” Wolfpaw admitted, itching under the sustained eye contact. “I don’t even know why I have it in the first place.”

“I may not understand it,” Waspdawn said, standing, “but if we work together, I think we can come up with ways to hone it. Let’s catch up with our sisters.” Wolfpaw took another big breath and nodded. She followed her mentor along Silverpaw and Puddlewhisper’s path, easing out the anxiety prickling her fur.

(Wolfpaw: 7, female, codekeeper apprentice, thoughtful, curious about StarClan, confident with words)

(Silverpaw: 7, female, codekeeper apprentice, strict, always asking questions, quick witted)

(Puddlewhisper: 38, trans female, codekeeper, righteous, natural intuition, ghost sense)

(Waspdawn: 38, male, codekeeper, strict, learner of lore, clue finder)

35 notes · View notes

tinietaehyun · 1 year ago

Text

Oh, Lover Boy.

[Bf!Hueningkai x Reader] [Post-College!AU] [One-shot]

Pairing: Bf!Hueningkai x Reader

Genres: Post-College!AU, romance, fluff, slice of life, just a feel good and cute fic!

Contains: Profanity, suggestive dialogue/themes.

Link: MASTERLIST

Note: Recommended to listen to “Invitation” by JUNNY (Feat. Gaeko), to really get into the vibe! Something short and sugary sweet, in comparison to my usual longer one-shots.

Summary: With your hellish final year college exams over with; both you and your boyfriend needed time to catch up and unwind from the stresses of life during your break together. What better way to start things off than staying at home, cuddling together whilst binge-watching your favourite show, or- well trying to binge-watch it. It’s not your fault you couldn’t resist his puppy-eyed gaze and sweet kisses!

—————————•••••••••••••••———————

You squeal in utter joy watching the main couple on screen finally kiss (that so very passionately, you may add!) in your new favourite show. You’d been waiting for this; it’s been half a season already! “Finally,” you grin almost feeling your cheeks hurt and your heart flutter from the way the couple on screen hold each other.

“What? They finally kissed, hm?” A very familiar voice calls out from the kitchen. You yelp, “Yeah, you missed it. I’ve been waiting ages; genuinely, I was beginning to get worried they’d never get together!” You hear your boyfriend chuckle amongst the clatter of kitchen utensils. The aroma of the food he’s making wafts into your nostrils; incredible!

You call out with a smirk, “Wow, you’re not burning something for once,” a chuckle escapes your lips as he scoffs loudly. “I’m not that bad at cooking you know. I can hold my own.” Rolling your eyes, you hum in reminiscence, “Remember that one time, two months ago when we stayed at-“

“Shut it, y/n. Don’t be mean,” he whines making you cackle atrociously. It wasn’t your fault, that Huening Kai wasn’t exactly a great cook. Making anything above cup noodles, ramen and coffee was entering dangerous territory in relation to Huening Kai. That was why you mostly supervised him in the kitchen but today he was adamant that you let him in the kitchen to cook himself. You wonder how he survived during your college days - then again his roommates: Taehyun and Yeonjun probably saved his ass from starving or living off takeout.

You snort and he scoffs once more, “I know you’re laughing at me.” Humming playfully, you respond, “How’d you guess?” You can almost hear him roll his eyes, “From the gargantuan snort you let out, you pig.” You gawk at his insult, “Is that how you insult the love of your life?”

“You’re insulting my cooking skills!” He calls out in a playfully offended tone.

At this point the rest of the episode you were watching becomes background noise. You coo, “Oh come on baby, I didn’t mean it. I was just joking around.” Kai snorts in response and replies, “Sure, yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, love.”

A giggle escapes your lips; you were cheesing hard. You loved pestering and annoying him; his reactions were always so adorable and endearing! You made sure to never cross the line though; you’d never dream of hurting Huening Kai ever. This man only ever deserved the absolute best.

His personality was sweet, soft even. Almost akin to a clingy puppy at times. He could keep up with your teasing, even teasing you back creating for humorous banter and bickering between the two of you. Not to mention, his insanely good music skills, you were lucky to have him. You remember how he often serenaded you to sleep, or wrote songs for your birthdays and especially last year; he produced a song dedicated to you for your third anniversary together. You knew he had a tender heart, a soft spot for animals, for you. A pure soul, one that enjoyed every moment of life.

“Kai, you almost done?” You call out. “Yeah, give me a sec. Just got to turn off the cooker and clean the counters a little,” he hums back. You twist yourself back around to face the screen and realise you’d missed quite a few minutes when you suddenly see the main female lead crying her eyes out? Damn, what the hell happened? Wasn’t she just with her man, making out a few minutes ago? You shrug to yourself; oh well.

Your eyes dart around the room as your hand finds the remote reversing the episode back to the point you’d left it. It was a relaxing atmosphere with the way the sunset light shone through the curtains in a golden hue giving the room an ethereal and warm glow. A haphazard pale blue blanket was thrown across one of the cushioned chairs to the right of you; the one you had used to cuddle with Kai yesterday. The view outside the main window encompassed dreary cityscape with vehicles passing by and regular pedestrians wearing their summer clothes; majority of them getting back from the beach. You could imagine the light breeze and warm air outside of the fading summer days.

You enjoyed tender and tranquil moments such as these. You and Huening Kai, had finished college a month back right after your hellish final exams. You shudder thinking back to that period of time; so utterly stressful and you barely had time to see each other. It was awful. Luckily, your daily messages, video calls and phone calls kept you going as you both cracked down to study hard. Fortunately, for you both, it seems your persistence and resilience had paid off! You both felt that your results were gonna be pretty good (well you were both trying to manipulate yourselves into a state of positive thinking, at least).

Your eyes gaze over to the potted plant on the window sill pitifully wilting and you can’t help but sigh with a smile, “Oh Kai..” He loved to try new things; often getting carried away with just how much he thinks he can handle. You tended to overwork yourself to the brink of exhaustion; something that Kai had managed to help you control. You helped him with his nervousness and efficiency whilst working. You both balanced each other out; what one doesn’t have, the other has. You were each other’s bases, each other’s home.

Often, you reminisce on how this all started. You still remember the slightly anxious and quiet boy who would be in your lecture hall two rows above you. He was attentive but with the way his eyes constantly met yours; the shared glances and smiles that made your heart flutter; you knew you both had a connection. His method of wooing you also made you laugh; it was endearing to say the least.

The way he would always lose his pens and come to you, to ‘borrow a pen,’ and then give it back only to ask for it again the next lecture you had. You had managed to catch on rather quickly what his tactic was; you still remember how flustered his cute and handsome face was! Then, it was followed by you asking him to work with you on an assigned project and the rest was history.

You finally asked him out during one of your study dates and from then on, you had been inseparable throughout the last two years of your degree. From all that educational stress; you both wished to unwind, relax and make up for lost time that you could have spent together; and this summer was perfect time to do it!

Your reverie is broken as you feel an arm wrap around your shoulders and a warm body press into the side of yours. You adjust yourself against him as you lean your head back on his shoulder with a soft smile. Kai murmurs; his voice low yet comforting, “What are you thinking about?” You hum peering at him to the side, “You.”

His eyes widen ever so slightly with a twinkle and his cheeks blossom into a faint reddish hue. “Me?” He questions bashfully, “What about me?” You coo running your hand through his dark brown locks, “Everything about you, love.” Kai clears his throat as he wraps his arms around your waist snuggling into you, “Yeah?” You hum, “Mhm.”

His body heat seeps through your clothes and you relax as the smell of his cologne invades your senses; you loved it - a subtle and sweet tangerine scent. It comforted you. It was on practically all his clothes; even the hoodie you had on right now (technically it wasn’t yours - not that he minded you wearing it, of course!)

Suddenly, he tightens his arms around your waist and hoists you onto his lap. A warmth spreads through your cheeks at the sudden motion. He always did this; yet it got you flustered every damn time!

“What episode is this?” He hum twisting his face back towards the screen. Composing yourself, you reply, “Episode ten, I practically missed half of it though. Still am, now that you’re here.”

His eyes glimmer playfully, “Why? Am I distraction?” You pout, “Yes, you are, Kai. You know that.”

Kai leans in close to your face with a playful smile, “You love it really.” You hum, “Do I?” His nose rubs against yours in a flurry; something you adored about Kai. He’d give these to you often or rub your tummy in the most random moments. He was such a tender and loving soul. Kai places a delicate kiss atop your nose point making your heart soar. You admit defeat, “I do.”

A laugh escapes his lips, “Of course you do.” His eyes flit down to your lips; his pupils dilate ever so slightly. A sly smile graces your face as you lean forward and trail your fingers down his cheek; he noticeably shivers. With that, he presses his lips against yours softly and passionately. Once again, the show continues to run on. At this point you think, you’ll never be able to get past episode ten!

Kai’s lips move with yours softly, slowly; your lips connected in an affectionate and gentle manner. You cup his cheek caressing your thumb against his cheek bone as his fingers slips under the hem of the hoodie to feel your warm, supple skin underneath. His fingers make your body tingle with delight as they draw slow circles against your hips and waist. The moment is raw, tender and passionate. Slow, almost ever so sloppy kisses with him were what you considered the peak of comfort. A way to de-stress and forget about the world around you. It was just you two.

You both part for air, both breathing shakily. You knew if you continued this; you’d never finish the episode, rather you’d end up in another room entirely - the bedroom. His lips trails down your neck as he nips and leaves sweet, seductive kisses along the curve. You whine breathlessly, “Kai, the s-show. This is going to be the third time I rewind it to catch up.” He suckles on your neck gently making you groan. Your fingers entangle into his silky hair. Kai muffles against your neck, “Forget the show.”

“We always do this,” you whine with a chuckle as he separates from your neck and peer at you with the most adorable puppy-dog eyes. You shake your head, “Nope, I’m determined to finish this episode at least. One episode.” You place a kiss onto his forehead as consolation upon seeing the pout on his rosy lips. “Why, you don’t wanna reward your handsome boyfriend for all his hard work cooking today?” You huff, “Of course I do. But I wanna watch this with you! To cuddle with you.”

Recently, Huening Kai had gotten an internship at a producing company and so you couldn’t as spend as much time out as you’d have liked. Though, you were incredibly happy for him! Kai was phenomenally talented in regard to music; everything from producing, songwriting and playing various instruments from which you could see with the guitar case that leant against the wall beside his keyboard.

“Oh? My sweetheart wants to cuddle, then cuddle, we shall.” You release giggle placing your hands over his forearms as he wraps his arms around you tightly once more. He nuzzles into your neck with a playful smirk, “We always have tonight after all, to do what we both really want.” Your eyes widen as you become flustered by his cheeky remark giving him a playful smack, “Kai!”

He shrugs innocently peering up at you, “What? It’s the truth, no? You weren’t complaining yesterday?” You whine crashing your head into his shoulder in embarrassment; a burst of desire courses through you. “Okay, okay, I get it, love,” you huff out making him cackle.

“You’re so cute when you’re flustered. It’s my only defence against your teasing, honestly,” he grins. You peer up with a mischievous glare, “Just you wait…” Kai bites his lower lip in anticipation, “Oh believe me, I will…” You peer over our shoulder seeing the credits of the episode and you groan, “Oh for fuck’s sake.”

Kai bursts out laughing at your frustrated expression, “Oh too bad.” You pout, “We were supposed to watch it together, this episode is apparently really good.” He hums, “According to who?” You huff, “According to Twitter, my friends.” Kai shakes his head, “Ah yes, very reliable and unbiased sources.” You scoff, “Oh shut it, you like this show too. I’ve seen the way you peek over whenever you pretend you’re working.”

Kai feigns offence, “Pretend I’m working? Excuse me?” You hum, “I’ve seen you flip through the same music sheet four times every time you look up at the screen whenever I watch a drama.” A slightly embarrassed expression coats his features and he scoffs back, “I just get easily distracted, is all.” You laugh running your fingers through his hair on the back of his head. He closes his eyes in repose and contentment. Kai always liked you playing with his hair; as you liked it when he played with yours.

Kai requests adorably, “Can we switch? I wanna lie my head on your lap?” You have to stop your heart bursting from your rib cage. “Of course, love,” you speak softly as you get up and he stands with a dazed smile on his face. Your heart twists and churns; he looked at you with so much love and adoration. God, you loved him so much. You wouldn’t know what to do without him, really.

Kai lies his head down onto your lap and you caress his forehead; his honey-toned skin glows under the hue of the sunset. Your fingers make their way through his hair and he nestles into your lap comfortably with his eyes closing. He murmurs, “I love moments like this…” You hum, “Me too, love.” A smile appears on his face; almost goofy. It makes you giggle in response.

He takes your other hand intertwining his fingers with yours giving it a squeeze. Kai softly speaks, “Love you, sweetheart.” Genuinely smiling down at him, you reply, “Love you too, Kai.” He nuzzles into your stomach making you laugh; he knew you were ticklish. Huening Kai was perfect in every aspect, you could ask for no one better.

“You’re perfect,” he suddenly utters opening his eyes. Your heart jumps and twists in joy, “I could say the same, love.” A blush paints his cheeks faintly. Kai questions, “What about episode ten?” You snort, “We’ll watch it another time.” He pouts, “Sorry…” You chuckle, “Don’t worry about it, I prefer time with you anyway.”

“How about we watch something else?” He suggests. You shrug with a smile, “If you want?” Kai ponders in thought before speaking, “How about we watch that thriller drama, you told me a few weeks ago? Have you started?” You nod, “I watched half of episode one, but had to leave it be due to work. Totally forgot about it. It had such a cool concept!” He grins, “Let’s get to it then,” as he grunts reaching over to grab the remote from the coffee table.

He begins scrolling through the available dramas and you point to it and it begins playing. You both contently focus on the drama for once and are immersed into the plot; as you both discuss the various aspects of the first episode, then the second and then the third. “Fucking hell, this is good,” he gets up from your lap stretching. You nod excitedly, “So good, the actors did such a good job.”

Kai grins, “Your ass would be dead in a heartbeat, if you were in a situation with a killer like that.” You deadpan, “Look who’s talking.” Your stomach rumbles and you huff, “Hungry.” He nods with a teasing smile, “Thought so, come on. We’ll get back to the show afterwards.”

As you both enter the kitchen; the scene becomes wholesomely domestic. You grab some plates as he checks on the food. You peek over his shoulder, “Holy shit, that curry looks amazing.” Kai looks smug at your praise, “Saw this Thai curry recipe on Insta, and just had to try it. It was super simple too.” You hum as you begin serving the curry with rice onto the plates, “Damn, seems you aren’t too bad of a cook, after all.”

Kai wraps his arms around your waist from behind leaning his head atop your right shoulder, “Mm, see? Your boyfriend is somewhat skilled in the kitchen. He can sorta cook, he can sing, play the guitar and piano…hm, the list goes on and on…” Rolling your eyes with a smile, you hum, “Wow, real humble aren’t you?” Kai snorts nuzzling into your neck littering one or two kisses, “What can I say? I’m nothing short of modest.”

“Mhm,” you nod sarcastically as you pick up the steaming plates full of deliciously tempting food. “Let’s get eating, I’m starving!” He says excitedly as you both sit down at the small dining table and tuck in immediately. As expected, it tasted even better than how it looked. You were proud of your boyfriend; he’d made such an excellent meal!

You muffle contently, “So, so good!” He chuckles wiping some curry off the side of your lips, “I can see that.” A smug expression coats his features, “Praise me more.”

You munch on the food; deciding to feed his ego for once to which he responds delightfully to. Afterwards, you both work to clean up. “You did so good. You’ve gotta definitely make that again,” you smile. His eyes glitter, “I’m glad you liked it. I’m super happy.” You smile genuinely at him, “Good job.”

“I’m gonna change into my pyjamas, yeah? Get comfy. What about you?” You ask peering over your shoulder. He nods, “Sure. I’ll do the same. We can continue the drama afterwards.” With that, you both change into some comfortable pyjamas with some bickering and teasing and find yourselves back on the sofa in front of the TV screen wrapped in each other arms, cuddling.

Episode four, episode five pass. You find him immersed into the show and you smile mischievous beginning to roam your hand under his shirt, up along his abdominals. Kai stiffens snapping his head to face you with a sly gaze, “What are you doing?” You hum playfully, “I don’t know, you tell me, love?” His face flushes at your seductive tone. He pouts, “Is this revenge for what I did earlier?” You nuzzle your head into his neck beginning to litter kisses; he shivers making you smile.

“Perhaps it is, love,” you breathlessly murmur against his skin. “Anyway, didn’t you say you were looking forward to tonight?” You inquire coyly. He whines, “You’re so mean. Petty even.” You murmur, “Hypocrite.” His hand trails under your pyjama shirt, “But you’re too difficult to resist…” His eyes meet yours and your lips soon follow melting into each other passionately; a hint of roughness this time.

With you pushing him down onto the sofa; it was clear; episode five was where you’d stop for tonight. His eyes peer up at you with so much love, affection and adoration. You lean down towards his lips with a soft smile, “I love you.”

Kai whispers blissfully looking into your eyes, “Love you too, sweetheart.” Oh, no one could compare to him. Your heart belonged to him and him alone.

It always will. Your sweet, lover boy.

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ros64 · 2 months ago

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From Diana Gabaldon Fb page

Well, it's March 6th.

So--an excerpt from Book Ten (no, I'm not telling you the title just yet), in honor of my anniversary as a novelist:

[This is early in the book, with William conversing with Jamie during their preparations for setting out, expressing some surprise at Jamie’s choosing Roger to manage and defend the Ridge in such controversial times (he’s heard about the incident of Lodge Night, from Ian.]

“But—I can’t say I know the Reverend MacKenzie _well_, but he is clearly a—a man of God. You’re sure he’s capable of handling…” William waved a hand toward the narrow window above the bookshelves, indicating the Ridge and all its tenants, crops, servants, animals….

Jamie gave him a faintly amused look.

“Aye, well. At least most o’ the tenants willna think he’s likely to collect a few men and come along by night to set their house ablaze or hang them in their own dooryard.”

“And they think you _would_?” William blurted.

“They’re no sure I wouldna,” Jamie said bluntly. “Ken this is a new-built house?” He lifted his chin, indicating the exposed ceiling beams, the wood raw and yellow, with small fragrant beads of oozing, half-dried sap along the edges. William stared at him.

“Mind, it wasna the tenants who set fire to the last one. It was the neighbors—from Brownsville--who dragged me and my wife out of our home and tried to hang her and deport me to Scotland. But it _was_ some o’ my own tenants who tried to kill me later—in Lodge, no less—” He stopped abruptly, looked at William, then tapped his fingers on the desk; casually, but in a noticeable pattern.

“No,” William said in answer. Papa had explained Freemasonry to him, but had never suggested that he join a Lodge.

Fraser nodded, and went on.

“This was nay more than three years ago [ck dates], ken. I dealt wi’ the matter and there’s been nay bother since. I let some o’ them come back, for the sake of their wives and families—and because Harriett McIlhenny blackmailed me, the conniving auld besom—but those that left are likely still alive, and bear me a black grudge if they are.”

“Why the devil did they want to kill you?” William asked, because it was the only straightforward question he could think of. His head wasn’t exactly spinning, but he could hear the blood beating in his ears.

Fraser looked at him thoughtfully, and his fingers drummed softly on the table—though obviously as an aid to thought, rather than a Masonic identification.

“Lad,” he said finally, “I’m a Highlander and a Papist. _And_ a rebel, twice over. I ken ye know that, but ye maybe dinna ken that there are folk—and not only Englishmen—to whom my existence is a mortal offense.”

“Jesus. And—Mother Claire may be in danger, too--because of you?”

That, strangely enough, made Fraser laugh.

“No, lad,” he said, shaking his head. “She can manage that on her own account. She’s known through all this neck o’ the woods—and a far piece beyond—as a conjure-woman. And to some folk, a healer who can cast folk into a deep sleep, or reach inside them to cure their ailments, is plainly a witch, and ye ken what the Bible says about _that_.”

“What…you mean ‘Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live’?”

“Aye, that.” Fraser raised a thick red eyebrow. “Were ye taught your Bible? I ken neither Lord John nor his brother are what ye’d call godly men.”

“They’re soldiers,” William said shortly.

“So am I, lad,” Fraser said mildly. He stopped, though, and leaned back a little, regarding William thoughtfully.

“Ye dinna like it when I call ye ‘lad’, do ye? Shall I call ye William? Or Mr. Ransom?” His lips twitched, but the knot between William’s shoulder blades relaxed fractionally.

“William will do.” He was—had been, for weeks—all too conscious of the last time he’d been obliged to ask James Fraser for help. Furious with his own helplessness when Fraser betrayed—he thought—hesitance at his request, he’d snapped, “_Don’t bother—I’ll do it myself!_”

To which outburst Fraser had replied levelly, “_If ye thought ye could, lad, ye’d never have come to me_.”

That objective assessment had burned at the time—it burned now, too. But Fraser had been right, and he was right now, though sufficiently courteous as not to mention the fact.

William could only hope that things would end better, this time.

Dunque—un estratto dal Libro Dieci (no, non vi dirò ancora il titolo), in onore del mio anniversario da scrittrice:

⸻

[Questa scena si svolge all’inizio del libro: William sta conversando con Jamie durante i preparativi per la partenza, esprimendo sorpresa per la decisione di Jamie di affidare a Roger la gestione e la difesa di Fraser’s Ridge in un periodo così controverso (ha sentito parlare dell’incidente avvenuto durante la Notte della Loggia da Ian).]

“Ma—non posso dire di conoscere bene il Reverendo MacKenzie, ma è chiaramente un… un uomo di Dio. Sei sicuro che sia in grado di gestire…” William agitò una mano verso la stretta finestra sopra la libreria, indicando Fraser’s Ridge e tutto ciò che vi si trovava: i suoi abitanti, i raccolti, i servitori, gli animali…

Jamie lo guardò con un’espressione leggermente divertita.

“Aye, beh. Almeno la maggior parte degli affittuari non penserà che sia il tipo da radunare un gruppo di uomini e andare di notte a incendiare le loro case o impiccarli davanti alla loro porta.”

“E pensano che tu lo faresti?” esclamò William, sbalordito.

“Non sono sicuri che non lo farei,” rispose Jamie con franchezza. “Vedi questa casa? È nuova.” Sollevò il mento, indicando le travi a vista del soffitto, il legno grezzo e giallastro, con piccole gocce profumate di resina che stillavano lungo i bordi. William lo fissò.

“Tieni presente che non sono stati gli affittuari a incendiare la precedente. Sono stati i vicini—quelli di Brownsville—che hanno trascinato me e mia moglie fuori di casa e hanno cercato di impiccarla e di deportarmi in Scozia. Ma sono stati alcuni dei miei affittuari a tentare di uccidermi più tardi—nella Loggia, niente meno—” Si interruppe bruscamente, guardò William, poi tamburellò le dita sulla scrivania; casualmente, ma con uno schema riconoscibile.

“No,” disse William in risposta. Suo padre gli aveva spiegato la Massoneria, ma non aveva mai suggerito che si unisse a una Loggia.

Fraser annuì e riprese.

“Non è successo più di tre anni fa [controllare date], capisci. Ho risolto la questione e non ci sono stati altri problemi. Ho lasciato che alcuni tornassero, per il bene delle loro mogli e famiglie—e perché Harriett McIlhenny mi ha ricattato, quella vecchia megera intrigante—ma quelli che sono andati via probabilmente sono ancora vivi, e se lo sono, mi odiano con tutto il cuore.”

“Perché diavolo volevano ucciderti?” chiese William, perché era l’unica domanda diretta che gli venne in mente. La sua testa non girava esattamente, ma riusciva a sentire il sangue pulsare nelle orecchie.

Fraser lo osservò pensieroso e tamburellò dolcemente le dita sul tavolo—ma stavolta chiaramente per riflettere, piuttosto che come segnale massonico.

“Ragazzo,” disse infine, “sono un Highlander e un Papista. E un ribelle, due volte. Lo sai, ma forse non sai che esistono persone—e non solo inglesi—per cui la mia stessa esistenza è un’offesa mortale.”

“Gesù. E—Madre Claire potrebbe essere in pericolo anche lei… per causa tua?”

Quella domanda, stranamente, fece ridere Fraser.

“No, ragazzo,” disse, scuotendo la testa. “Lei sa cavarsela benissimo da sola. È conosciuta in tutta questa regione—e ben oltre—come una guaritrice. E per alcune persone, una donna che può far addormentare qualcuno profondamente o curarlo entrando nel suo corpo è chiaramente una strega, e sai cosa dice la Bibbia al riguardo.”

“Cosa… intendi ‘Non lascerai vivere una strega’?”

“Aye, proprio quello.” Fraser alzò un folto sopracciglio rosso. “Ti hanno insegnato la Bibbia? So che né Lord John né suo fratello si possono definire uomini pii.”

“Sono soldati,” disse William, secco.

“Lo sono anch’io, ragazzo,” rispose Fraser con calma.

Fraser si fermò per un momento, poi si appoggiò leggermente allo schienale, osservando William con attenzione.

“Non ti piace quando ti chiamo ‘ragazzo’, vero? Preferisci che ti chiami William? O Mr. Ransom?” Le sue labbra si contrassero leggermente in un sorriso trattenuto, ma il nodo tra le scapole di William si allentò, anche se di poco.

“William andrà bene.” Da settimane era—ed era stato—fin troppo consapevole dell’ultima volta in cui era stato costretto a chiedere aiuto a James Fraser. Furioso per la propria impotenza, quando aveva percepito in Fraser una certa esitazione alla sua richiesta, aveva sbottato: “Non importa—lo farò da solo!”

A quel punto, Fraser gli aveva risposto con tono misurato: “Se pensassi davvero di poterlo fare, ragazzo, non saresti venuto da me.”

Quella valutazione oggettiva lo aveva bruciato allora—e bruciava ancora adesso. Ma Fraser aveva avuto ragione allora, e aveva ragione anche adesso, sebbene fosse abbastanza cortese da non farlo notare.

William poteva solo sperare che, questa volta, le cose finissero meglio.

#outlander #sam heughan #jamie fraser #diana gabaldon #outlander books #outlander season 7b #outlanderseason8 #outlander starz #outlander series #william ransom #david barry #jamie and claire #charles vandervaart #lord john grey

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charlemagne-the-devourer · 2 years ago

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Don't ever do that again

Pairing: Shoto Todoroki x reader

Summary : A small fight with shoto lead to something far bigger

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Shoto ran without any hesitation as the moment he knew that you could be in danger. Holding your wedding ring in his hand. Shoto helplessly ran past building after building looking for the familiar sight of you.

It has been a month since you left, and Shoto has been miserable ever since. Shoto couldn't do anything without thinking about you, so his friends told him to get some time off to distract himself.

Shoto was looking through the world wide hero network for the top heros when he saw your hero name in the district. It was a quick flash of a backup request, disappearing only a moment later. But Shoto didn't want to risk missing a chance to see you. He ran out the door as if his life depends on it.

Finally in a dark alleyway, Shoto found a glimpse of your bloody figure.

You didn't regret being here. Sacrifices were essential for the greater good. You just hoped your death didn't happen today.

It was your anniversary. The day you married Shoto, and became the happier than you never expected you could be.

The life with Shoto was more than you ever hoped for. Shoto loved you even where you couldn't, and accepted you despite all your flaws.

Smiling at the thought, the sweet feeling numbing the lethal pain. You lost an arm during the fight with the villain earlier. and you lost so much blood. Being stuck in a underground tunnel wasn't much help either. Not wanting to die so soon, you started distracting yourself to stay conscious.

You know you may not make it every time you went into battle. And you lived a life without regrets. Except for leaving your beloved Shoto.

You never has the chance to apologize for leaving unannounced, the undercover misson was not supposed to last this long, nor was you supposed to be recognized as the secret hero.

As you were losing conscious, a familiar half and half haired figure was the last thing you saw before you fell into your last peaceful slumber.

#my hero academia #mha angst #shoto torodoki #todoroki shoto #shoto todoroki x reader #bnha shoto #todoroki #shoto todoroki #mha todoroki #boku no hero acedamia #angst

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cologona · 1 year ago

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If you won some sort of lottery contest and DC allowed you to write a comic run for any character, any topic, no limits, what would your comic be like?

What kinda plot and characters would you want to etch into official DC canon? (Or would you prefer to write an elseworlds kinda thing?)

-redhoodinternaldialectical from the "main" blog

Sorry it took a while to answer this, I got pretty carried away! Jason is my favorite character and the character I know most about, so of course I'd write about him. This is going to be pretty long winded and fanfic-y, hope you don’t mind!

First things first I’m making both UTRH and Lost Days mostly canon again. Jason was a crime lord who did Mean Crime Lord Things for a while and that’s what I’ve decided everyone is referring to when they gesture vaguely to his villainous past.

I’m also bringing back the original “big boob” backstory where Jason makes Bruce laugh on the anniversary of his parents’ death. Catherine was an opioid addict due to illness, Willis was the person who taught Jason about cars (and thus how to jack tires) and Faye Gunn is no longer Jason’s grandma. (I really disliked Ma Gunn’s “redemption” in RHATO.) Just in case, I’m also reiterating Sheila’s role in Jason’s death.

Here’s a few lines I came up with for the Todds:

Jason keeps the letters Willis sent him from prison - the ones Ma Gunn hid- in the same picture frame that holds his Robin graduation photo with Bruce. He loved and resented Willis in equal parts, but mostly he regrets not having gotten more time. It’s all the same with fathers.

Catherine is curled up in bed, her expression is half a grimace. She asks Jason, who is reading a picture-book by her side, to get her ‘medicine’ for her. Jason doesn’t know how else to help her feel better so… that’s exactly what he does. In a moment, he returns with a small heart shaped box and a cup of microwaved soup.

If I can imply in some way that Catherine is in denial about the possibility of her dying I’d like to do that too.

I’m also doing a total overhaul of the All-Caste.

Essence is getting proper Tibetan braids, Ducra is going to wear a khampa chuba instead of her current old coat, and the Acres-of-All are getting reimagined as a towering Ziggurat with all the murals, pillars, curtains, and ornate trim befitting a monastery! The All-caste of memory will be bright and fantastical, but the ruins of the present will be dark and spooky.

Some references for what I'm talking about.

I’m also reframing the “Absolute Evil” part of the All-blades’ description to be an epithet for the Untitled. The sword is not literally judging Goodness and Evilness anymore; now they cut through negative psychic energy Jujutsu Kaisen style. I don’t think I need to spell out a justification for Jason being able to summon them whenever, but for any sticklers I’ll just say it’s because Jason- like the Untitled- has a lot of bad feelings and trace amounts of Dionesium in his system (among assorted other chemicals.)

Since Lost Days is being brought back that means instead of spending an entire 3 years with the All-Caste, Jason only spent a few weeks with them during his world-wide training arc. Ostensibly because a little magic would give him an edge over Batman. Ducra wouldn’t normally just give away powerful magic weapons to any chump with a free weekend, and she knew Jason was dangerous, but since the All-Blades are so specific and the ritual to attain them nigh-unsurvivable she saw an opportunity to use Jason. Sure she's one of the Good Guys, but she's not called a conniving old witch for nothing hoohoo!

Now a few plot ideas for a vague overall mini-arc.

First, Jason goes to ugly lengths to protect or prevent consequences from finding one of his family. Maybe someone threatens their secret identity…? The ‘opponent’ should be someone innocent and/or noble but not easily bought or fought. Maybe Vicki Vale, another Hero, or some kind of wealthy heir. The point is to cast doubt on if Jason’s return to the Bats is really so unquestionably redeeming. Jason has pretty much chosen to betray his morals for them after all.

Then, Jason chooses not to kill a villain who shortly afterwards victimizes more people and skips town before he can get caught. Basically a rehash of Diplomat’s Son except the Garzonas figure gets away. It’s technically a win for Batman- his presence kept Gotham safe after all. But it doesn’t feel like a win, especially not to Jason.

And finally, Jason frames himself for various murders committed by victims against their abusers. Maybe kick the story off with one of Ma Gunn’s boys killing her and telling the cops it was Red Hood in a desperate bid to avoid jail.

Obviously Jason can’t be allowed to do this long-term. It’s a bad precedent to set, an obstruction of justice, etc… Jason hasn’t broken The Big Rule though, and Bruce can only act so sanctimonious when those same complaints could be are made about him as well. There’s no way this ends any other way than Batman running Red Hood out of Gotham again and they both know it, but neither deviates from the path set before them.

One or two “monster of the week” issues where Jason fights various assassins and bounty hunters sent by his more influential enemies might be good- one should occur right after the above story. A consequence for his “return to form” so to speak. Batfamily fans may appreciate a scene where Bruce says something indicating that he ran Jason out for his own safety as well as Gotham’s. Batman may be able to hide in Bruce Wayne’s skin during the day but Jason’s only identity is that of Red Hood, and at times that makes him vulnerable in a way other heroes aren’t. This + some panels contrasting the generic mercenary look of Jason’s guns and equipment with the Bats’ spandex future-tech will be great for showing how separate Jason is from the Bats.

Now while Jason’s out of Gotham again there’s this detail in one of RHATO’s flashbacks that I want to expand on- that being how he used to be able to summon a lot more All-blades.

Red Hood Outlaw 34

“I had a lot of soul back then” - implying that he has a lot less soul now…!?

Jason’s been through a lot, in life sure but also more recently. Fight scenes where the All-blades take the form of daggers would not only be cool and evocative of the wavy dagger Talia gifted him way back when, they’d be good visual sign of his declining emotional state.

Later on as his soul ‘shrinks’ further, I’d give him a pair of mystical guns through which he can channel his All-blades into bullets. If it’s another gift from Talia I’m thinking dark brass revolvers with paisley filigree and a red Endless Knot charm hanging from each handle. If they’re from Essence or S’aru I’m thinking black lacquer and silver cloud-patterned ornamentation, with red coral embedded on either side of the gun. Beautiful Bayonetta-style guns with glowing red veins and a cowboy flair!

antique guns which inspired me

As for what he’s using the All-blades (All-bullets?) for, I think it’d be fun to have Jason exorcising some ghosts. He can solve various murder mysteries, figure out why this place or that person is haunted, and get into fights with horrific otherworldly creatures. Jason is an interesting character to do this premise with because he might just determine that some some spirits should get their revenge, and act on behalf of a ghost rather than erasing it.

I’m not sure whether I’d want to have Essence join him or not… On one hand it only makes sense that Jason would help Isabel and Essence find a way to free themselves from the Blood Blade, and that goal would provide his character with some direction. Then again, Essence/Isabel could be cool as antagonists. Jason might see some ghosts as valid but Essence probably wouldn’t see any merit in appeasing manifestations of lingering resentment. She’s similar to him in that she also turned her back on her family, but she’s different in that she did it because she believed so wholeheartedly in their cause. She’s old and sort of a Jedi, but she’s hot-blooded and she’ll never not be Ducra’s daughter in the same way it seems Jason can never escape Batman’s shadow. I bet she has some real juicy sunk-cost fallacy type thinking too, that’d be fun to dig into.

Anyways I think this is a pretty good set-up to explore the politics/morality of forgiveness. What makes the difference between an injustice and a hatchet that ought to be buried? When is forgiveness empowering and when is it coerced? Who is it that must forgive? Justice vs Revenge, that whole kind of thing.

Other than the supernatural stuff I want Jason working with Talia, and I’m reintroducing Sasha to the post-52 continuity. Duela is getting nixed.

I don’t really have any specific plot ideas for Talia, but I would like to establish Jason as one of her associates. With Lost Days back they have basis for an actual relationship again. They’re not always on the same side but Jason can sometimes do tasks for Talia (outside the purview of Ra’s and the LOA), and Talia can occasionally support Jason with various social power-play type moves.

An instance of Jason getting into a fight with one of the Bats because he’s doing a favor for Talia would be great! I wouldn't write Talia as an evil evil bad horrible dragon lady, so it shouldn’t be a huge blow to Jason’s status as a Good Guy. Also I like the idea of Jason and Talia’s relationship mostly being inferred through their actions supporting one another, rather than directly showing much ‘on-screen’ interaction between them.

Also it’ll be interesting to go into Bruce, Dick, and Damian’s reaction to finding out that they’re not the only ones Jason is loyal to. Bruce thinking Talia was a bad influence on Jason (like fanon), silently frustrated because what he really wants is for Jason to be a full Bat-Believer (like the good old days…). Dick being fine with Jason never falling fully in-line with Bruce, provided that at the end of the day his loyalty belonged to his family.

-brief topical detour to talk about Sasha-

The new timeline of events is that Jason and Sasha met as fellow patients while Jason was in his Vague Villain era. They escaped the hospital building together (Sasha in her bloody dress, and Jason naked save for his skimpy hospital gown dhoti) and having no one else they stuck together. They got close but at some point Sasha lost her memories, giving her a chance at a fresh start. This was around the same time Jason “redeemed” himself and so just like Max Dawkins, ‘Numbers’, and Gabby Christiensen -Sasha became another person from Jason’s past that he didn’t let himself have a relationship with.

Sasha was just old enough that she didn’t have to be sent into foster care, so with some help from Wayne Foundations she got her GED and her feet underneath her. Now… she goes to work, goes to her physical therapy appointments, fights with her mother over the phone, and yes- sometimes she goes to the club.

The new Sasha still has spiky red hair but her face looks entirely normal save for a subtle scar tracing around her jawline and chin- the edges of where her mask used to sit. She wears dark makeup and even darker clothes. She’s prone to false memories and dissociation. She’s lost most of her ability to feel pain. She can’t watch certain shows she used to love anymore because they trigger her. She never returned to Russia. She doesn’t have many friends.

Since this is comics, her reintroduction will come by way of a dramatic fight. Sasha will regain her memories one day and show up out of the blue to fight Jason, angry and heartbroken that he abandoned her. He tries to explain himself but she just says look what they did to my face, referring to the facial reconstructive surgery she was given while amnesiac. She’ll be difficult to fight, not only because being a partial Dollotron gives her enhanced strength but also because she’s being reckless and the longer they fight the more strain and damage her body accrues.

After Jason apologizes and they reconcile (they will both cry) Sasha can become a recurring side character that Jason visits, keeping him grounded and up to date with Gotham. I think it'd be cute for her to bid him farewell by saying she’ll hold the city hostage until he comes back. (Is Sasha going to become Jason’s love interest? No. If I give Jason a love interest it’s going to be Numbers.)

--Going back to the previous topic, I want Sasha’s return to be part of this greater arc of Jason addressing his "shrinking soul" problem. My brain is a little fried now so I’m not exactly sure how but she is related. I think she ought to be.

Jason wants Bruce to be right. He would like for his problem to be fixed by going home and saying sorry. But at the end of my run I want him to face the reality that it’s not about that.

...Perhaps it should be about Jason 'abandoning' Gotham? I don’t really want the final thesis of my run to imply that Jason’s soul would just be fixed if he killed Rogues though, and Jason always came back whenever a big disaster was happening so it doesn't quite fit anyways… Jason does believe in the value of “pure” heroes it’s just not what he’s supposed to be. Whatever his problem's “about” , it ought to prompt Jason to stop taking Bruce’s shit. I'm saying the man is literally breaking Jason's spirit.

I’m sympathetic to Bruce but I wouldn’t write him as a nice father. I would also have scene where a younger Bat accuses Jason of being overdramatic despite 'not even having it the worst’. I don't know who 'has it the worst' but I want to make a statement that you don't need to win the pain-race to be fed up.

Ah anyways, now my brain is really fried. I hope this post was coherent all the way through, I neglected to edit and organize my thoughts as much towards the end. Thank you for asking me such a great question, I had a lot of fun thinking about it! :D

#me rambling so much #i have been holding onto this too long #I did kind of pull and UTRH part 2 electric boogaloo with Sasha didn’t I #except I characterized her as more like fanon/movie Jason #I fixed some of the typos now #oh god I forgot to mention:#I want to have a repeated motif of timekeeping sounds #beeping alarms ticking clocks beating drums #also I want Jason to show off his knowledge of bombs and poisons #Jason’s always making antidotes to shoot people with that ought to be explored #ahhhh the ideas won’t stop coming #jason todd #scarlet sasha #essence dc #headcanons #red hood #put a pin on it #📌

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rxin3akamallory · 1 month ago

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TW: Shcool Sh—t!ng topic, the JCC, self deletion irl trauma

Please dni if you’re in the tcc and romanticize these tragedies and the perpetrators. I don’t normally post something like this here, I have a blog for only my thoughts, but this is to spread awareness

One of my closest irl friends has a little sister who studies at FSU. Unfortunately, today there was a sh—t!ng on campus with at least 5 confirmed fatalities. My friend’s sister made it out alive and uninjured thankfully. Three people were responsible, one is dead, one is in custody and one is on the run. All I gotta say is you gotta be kidding me. Absolutely pathetic of these people.

This is why I take things like the disturbing tcc community, especially on Tumblr, so seriously. I know other sh—t!ngs have happened before Columbine, but I feel like once Columbine happened we’ve only see a staggering increase in sh—t!ngs like these, not just in schools. The killers’ motive of wanting to be seen as Gods and wanting to leave their mark on the world, a negative one at that, while also leaving behind the basement tapes that are not only disturbing in nature but the killers give the people watching very detailed instructions on how they planned their attack so others can learn how to carry an attack of their own. The basement tapes have never been released to the public, they have been rumored to be destroyed in 2011 but there have been rumors of copies still being out there somewhere and I pray they NEVER get released because even with only the transcript of the basement tapes and the tragedy itself, SO MANY future perpetrators were inspired by Columbine in some way or another. Virginia Tech, Sandy Hook, Parkland, and many many more.

Unfortunately, over half of the tcc community are teenagers and young adults that may be going through mental health struggles whether it be bullying or depression or something else. They can relate to these killers, especially Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold, and that in itself isn’t a bad thing and it’s one thing to be fascinated in the case while being aware of what the killers did and how evil they are. But when you’re defending what they did or trying to “understand” them while developing unhealthy crushes on these people is where it becomes a problem, a huge problem. They’re treating these tragedies like a game and focusing their attention on the wrong people. It’s a serious problem that NEEDS to be addressed more.

I’m not saying everyone in the tcc will IMMEDIATELY want to start killing people themselves, but it can still be a bad influence especially for younger people. Cases like the girl that was planning “Parkland Part 2” earlier this year in Indiana that was thankfully arrested before her plans became a reality or a tcc member that was a huge Columbine fanatic that flew to Denver Colorado during the tragedy’s 20th anniversary, causing a panic of her being a danger to others or herself and she proceeded to take her own life. This community is dangerous and should not be seen as a safe place, I know some sh—t!ngs may not be in the community or be overly infatuated with previous sh—t!ngs like Columbine, but even outside of the internet, that incident as well as others later on made a big impact on the world.

This is actually the second close call for my friend’s sister. I was a sophomore when Parkland happened and she was in 8th grade attending the middle school next door behind the building. Experiencing a situation like this once is bad enough, the survivors guilt will probably never fully go away for me. The tragedy still plagues my mind almost every day, I constantly playing the “what if” game internally. Those who know about Parkland may have seen that infamous Snapchat video from one of the students inside room 1213 with loud gunshots in the background and students screaming in terror.

I remember watching the news the whole day, they would constantly play that clip as well as another student recorded video of three injured students being carried out of a classroom while the rest of the class follow behind and having to run past a couple of the victims’ bodies in the hallway. I still hear the screams from the Snapchat video, I’ll still randomly become scared of getting attacked whenever I’m outside of my house, I have to still carry a stuffed animal everywhere I go so I can feel even a little safer.

That experience is never easy no matter where you were. And my friend’s sister is now experiencing it twice, it’s absolutely heartbreaking. Her family shouldn’t have had to anxiously wait to hear if she’s okay or not. I really hope the killers that are still alive get the justice they deserve and they don’t get ANY lenience like Parkland’s perpetrator. I also pray for the victims and their grieving families. And I pray for her, my friend and the rest of their family.

Anyways I’m very sorry for the sudden serious post, I’ll now go back to my regular posts now

My other post on the topic from my other blog

#vent #serious post #tw school shooting #tw self deletion #fsu shooting #parkland shooting #awareness #never again #march for our lives #end gun violence #protect kids not guns

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justinspoliticalcorner · 2 months ago

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Matt Gertz at MMFA:

Tuesday marked the five-year anniversary of the World Health Organization declaring the COVID-19 outbreak a pandemic — and right-wing media’s abject abandonment of their responsibility to keep safe and healthy the people who depended on them for information. Fox News propagandists and their fellow travelers responded to the rising death tolls by downplaying the danger posed by the virus, touting fake miracle cures, lashing out at public health authorities and their recommendations, and ultimately waging an all-out assault against the vaccines, with deadly consequences for their right-wing audience.

The legacy of the right’s COVID-19 catastrophe was on display Tuesday night as Secretary of Health and Human Services Robert F. Kennedy Jr. discussed the ongoing measles outbreak in the American Southwest in an interview with Fox’s Sean Hannity. Kennedy, an antivax kook rehabilitated by MAGA media, used his time with Hannity’s audience to downplay both the danger posed by the measles and the importance of vaccinating against it. A measles outbreak, which began in West Texas in late January, has infected at least 223 people in the state, almost all of whom were unvaccinated or had an unknown vaccination status, and has spread to New Mexico and Oklahoma, according to public health officials. An unvaccinated child is confirmed to have died of measles in Texas while New Mexico health officials are investigating the death of another unvaccinated person who tested positive for the disease.

The U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention is on the ground in Texas and working in partnership with its Department of State Health Services, which has responded to the outbreak in part by telling Texans that “the best way to prevent getting sick is to be immunized with two doses of a vaccine against measles, which is primarily administered as the combination measles-mumps-rubella vaccine.” But that advice is being undermined by Kennedy, who spent years as an antivax activist pushing the myth that the MMR vaccine causes autism and falsely arguing that “no vaccine” is safe and effective. Even in his confirmation hearing, he was unable to offer an unqualified “yes” to Sen. Bill Cassidy’s (R-LA) question, “Will you reassure mothers unequivocally and without qualification, that the measles and hepatitis B vaccines do not cause autism?” (Cassidy subsequently joined nearly every other Republican senator in voting for Kennedy, ensuring his confirmation.)

Hannity tried to keep Kennedy on message during their Fox interview, repeatedly prompting the secretary to talk about how the Trump administration is providing vaccines in response to the outbreak. But the loyal Trump propagandist’s efforts were unsuccessful, with Kennedy repeatedly pivoting back to antivax talking points.

[...] Kennedy responded that he was “a freedom of choice person” who supported “transparency,” before giving Hannity’s viewers more reasons not to support measles vaccination. “There are adverse events from the vaccine,” he said. “It does cause deaths every year. It causes all the illnesses that measles itself causes — encephalitis and blindness, et cetera, and so, people ought to be able to make that choice for themselves. And what we need to do is give them the best information, encourage them to vaccinate. The vaccine does stop the spread of the disease.” Hannity immediately seized upon the half-hearted endorsement of the vaccine Kennedy offered after spending several minutes denouncing it. [...] Any Fox viewer who was on the fence about vaccinating themselves or their children and saw Hannity’s interview would come away from it having been told that the measles is not particularly dangerous, that natural immunity acquired by infection is superior to vaccination, and that the vaccine might blind or even kill them — and all by the nation’s top health official.

Robert F. Kennedy Jr.’s interview with Sean Hannity filmed at a Steak ‘n Shake was a major debacle, as RFK Jr. kept trafficking in anti-vaxxer nonsense.