#to show his transition from boy to man | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gay-dorito-dust · 8 months ago

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hopefully tumblr doesnt eat this up again 😭

i was wondering how the batfam would reacted to getting caught watching edits of celebrity!reader

I’m just going to put them in a relationship with Celeb! reader just to make things easier for myself.

Dick doesn’t give a fuck if he’s caught watching edits of you! You’re his spouse of course he’s going to save each and every edit there was of you because it’s be a crime if he didn’t.

He’ll even show you the ones where he thinks you’re the hottest in shamelessly with a smile. He honestly can’t get enough of the edits that his FYP is filled with them and snippets of interviews that transition to the edits as well.

Dick has no shame in being caught because why would he? You deserve to have a thousand of edits in your name and Dick has one too many edits saved in his phone, so much so that your surprised his phone still somehow has storage for the next wave of edits that he’ll be saving should he deem them worthy.

‘Babe come look at this edit of you! You look hot!’ Is the most often used when Dick is showing off an edit of yourself to you in hopes of getting your opinions on it. You don’t mind people making edits, especially didn’t mind them now when Dick would shout ‘my spouse is fucking gorgeous! God damn’ out of seemingly nowhere.

You’re not even surprised when his Lock Screen is a live wallpaper of the edit itself, dick really didn’t have any problems showing you off in any capacity at all.

Jason is either calm with being caught or he’s wanting to strangle Roy because who else is going to rat him out to you about watching edits of you other than him?

‘Chipmunk I can explain-‘ Jason would start.

‘There’s no need, I know you watch edits of me sweetheart there’s nothing to be ashamed of at all.’ You tell him as you cuddle up to his chest. ‘It’s complete fine I’m not going to shame you in watching them, I think it’s flattering that you do.’ You add and Jason couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief as he held onto you, kissing your forehead.

‘It’s not my fault you’re perfect and the edits happen to capture that beauty sweetheart.’ Jason replied and you couldn’t help but chuckle as you looked at him sweetly, not knowing how much more you could possibly love this beautiful man as much as you could, especially when his cheeks flush with a red colour while he scratched his nose sheepishly.

You didn’t mind that he was watching edits and while he was glad about that he was more than certain to watch them elsewhere, more specifically away from Roy before he can rat on him…again.

Tim is terrified the moment you catch him watching edits of you, so much so that he completely forgot to pause the edit as you stare at each other, accompanied by music playing in the background.

It’s hilarious to you but embarrassing to poor Tim who believes that you’d see him as a weirdo for watching them, but all you do is laugh and kiss the side of his head before fiddling his hair affectionately. ‘Watching edits of me are you? And here I thought you couldn’t get more adorable Timmy.’ You tease as you kiss his cheek.

‘You’re not weirded out?’ He’d ask, holding his phone to his shirt, not wanting you to know that he was more or less the one making them rather than watching them. He’s literally got several usb drives worth of edit material to make, no joke.

‘Nope just flattered.’ You replied before leaving Tim be before he passes out from embarrassment. Little did you know he’s making about ten more edits as we speak, all of which have to be perfect and he’ll watch them ten times over if he must, for no specific reason at all.

Bruce is just admiring his beautiful/ handsome spouse. That is all.

Alfred would’ve most likely told you that he’s been watching edits of you when you’re away. It’s adorable and you couldn’t help but smile at how your handsome boy has an hidden file on the bar computer dedicated to your edits. (Dick and Tim found it by pure accident and dick couldn’t hope but tell you about it.)

Needless to say you won’t see him watch the edits but you’ll hear from everyone else that he watches them and that about the closest you’ll get to catching him in the act of watching edits honestly. However don’t be surprised when you see a video from Stephanie of her filing Bruce somewhere as he watched the edits of you on the big screen of the bat computer, his eyes filled with pride and awe of his pretty/ charming spouse looking so effortlessly ethereal.

While you might not have caught him in the act yourself, you still found yourself smiling at Bruce smiling up at the edits of you -and sometimes him because you’re a power couple- as a warmth encased your whole being, buts that’s more than enough for you as it can act as your own little secret.

Damian is good at keeping his little secret safe, so you seeing him watch edits of you were slim to none, and even if you did you catch him in the act you would have to have been blessed by Lady Luck herself.

He’s a little embarrassed that you caught him in the act, mainly because he thought he was better than this to let his guard down to be caught in an act like this, then he’ll become irritated at the fact that you had came into his own room just to catch him watching edits of you.

‘You’re watching edits of me.’ You said.

‘And? Did you seriously come into my room to tell me that? What happened to respecting my privacy?’ He retorts, arms cross over his chest. He didn’t care that you caught him, he’s just more or less annoyed with his privacy being violated.

‘Sorry my sweet I should’ve knocked, but you haven’t answered my question.’ You apologised with a little hug and a kiss to his forehead and Damian found himself forgiving you in an instant as he brought you back into a short lived hug, hiding his flustered face in the depths of your neck, tightening his grip on you.

‘Tim hacked my phone.’ He says in response and you just let it slide, knowing that he’ll admit to it sooner or later and not when he’s being cornered into talking. You knew he watched the edits because he’s totally infatuated with his spouse and Damian knew it too, but wouldn’t dare tell you until this moment has passed you both by.

So until then he’ll watch the edits in secret because he can’t get enough of how gorgeous you looked in them.

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confessedlyfannish · 1 year ago

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Writing Prompt #11

It's an innocent ("please," Jason sneers, "there's nothing innocent about a plagiaristic propaganda machine encouraging minors to dance for sick ol' pervs while it spews misogynistic hate speech.'"

"okay, boomer,"

"the fuck did you just call me, replacement?") TikTok, one of those ones that kind of simmers in the background for a few weeks until someone with a decent enough following posts it on the Platform Formerly Known as Twitter and from there it seriously catches traction, blowing up until Tim knocks on Bruce's office door, phone in hand. Damian stands behind him, arms crossed and clearly simmering.

Bruce, fresh off a series of zoom conferences, raises an eyebrow.

"Okay, so you haven't seen it," Tim decides, striding forward.

Bruce's eyebrow jumps a smidge higher, on the edge of concern, as Tim thrusts his phone into his grasp.

"So," he begins, reaching over to refresh the mobile page "there's a video that's been making the rounds on Twitter and—well you should probably see it," He sighs over Damian's scoff as he clicks through the pop-up asking him to sign in or join TikTok, and presses "Watch Again", unmuting the video.

🎶 "Doo, badoo-badoo-badoo Badoo-badoo-badoo-badoo,"🎶 an upbeat background song hums as someone, presumably a student, films a school hallway with their phone. They walk past students talking near their lockers, some of whom flash peace signs and silly grins as the camera swings their way before continuing on.

But the main point Bruce gets stuck on is the all lowercase white text at the center of the screen that an automated woman's voice awkwardly narrates:

"when you go to school with bruce wayne's other long lost lovechild"

The student filming comes up behind a much taller student who faces away from him, in conversation with a black haired pale teenaged girl. She spots the cameraman and shoots him a confused, disgruntled look, saying something to the boy who then turns around.

Bruce quietly observes as the camera zooms in on a boy around Tim's page, possibly older. Tall and broad-shouldered, with a strong jaw, he raises an eyebrow at the one filming, looking beyond the camera, pitch black hair with blue undertones falling into his blue eyes. The camera momentarily zooms too far into those eyes then abruptly pulls back as he quirks a puzzled smile at the viewer, mouthing out an easily understandable "hi?".

The TikTok ends and seamlessly transitions to a person balancing their cat on an exercise ball with minimal success and this time Bruce presses the Watch Again button. The heart on the right side claims 750k likes.

Damian scoffs, louder, as it ends. "Clearly it is a hoax, but it has been popular among my classmates."

"The board hasn't made much noise about it—" Tim starts.

"And they won't," Bruce says, lifting his eyes from his phone. "Wayne Industries doesn't give statements on videos like these, no matter how viral they become. I've been getting lovechild claims since before I adopted Dick."

Which Tim knows, which is why his insistence on showing Bruce this one raises his hackles. He pins Tim down with a stare and despite Tim's perfected PR mask, he can see Tim is unsettled.

"B...he really, really looks like you." Tim admits. Damian scoffs for a third time and Tim shoots him a glare, "I get it, you don't see it, but you haven't seen the pictures of Bruce when he was younger."

"I don't need to!" Damian says angrily. "You're all being ridiculous!"

"All?" Bruce asks. Tim shifts awkwardly. "The family group chat has been talking," he says.

"I see," Bruce says. Because he does. Many claim Damian to be his doppelganger, but the boy actually favors Talia not just in skin tone but in the shape and color of his eyes, as well as the soft slope of her mouth and ears. Whether those features will sharpen once he goes through puberty is anyone's guess.

But this young man has Bruce's eyes. Martha's eyes.

That night they have a suspiciously full house for dinner, with even Jason dropping in, but no one says anything until Barbara wheels in for dessert, carrying a manila folder on her lap.

"What?" she says, when everyone stares. "Dick told me it was crème brûlée today!"

Bruce extends a hand wordlessly, and Barbara sheepishly hands the folder over.

"Bruce," she says, before he can open it, "I wouldn't have looked into this normally, but,"

"Just say it," Jason says, leaning back in his chair. "Take away the gray hairs, the receding hairline, and the wrinkles and the kid's a dead match."

"Take it back, Todd," Damian growls, "Father has a very full head of hair!"

"Not to mention a failed track record at keeping it in his pants, Exhibit A," Jason continues, pointing a fork at Damian, "oh wait," he says gleefully, "kid is definitely 18, so I guess that would make you Exhibit B!"

The table erupts, cutlery tinkling as Damian gets a knee up on the table to hurl himself at a cackling Todd, Dick jumping up to grab him as the others lean out of the way—

"Ahem!" Everyone stops cold as Alfred stands in the doorway, porcelain ramekins of crème brûlée stacked perfectly on a silver tray. Under his gaze, everyone sits back down, Damian and Jason both quietly uttering a "Sorry Alfie/Alfred," as they straighten up.

Bruce is oblivious to the chaos, Barbara biting her lip beside him as he stares blankly inside the folder at the printed copy of an adoption certificate.

Two days and several million likes later, another TikTok goes viral from the same user. Caught in the moment as whoever is filming runs up to the group, the same young man is chatting with a blonde in a red letterman jacket, a partially formed crowd around them. Even with one leg still in the cafeteria table, he towers over everyone.

"—sh. Look, we're all possibly Bruce Wayne's son!" the boy snarks. He has his hands out, palms up as if he's making a great point, and as he looks around he catches sight of the cameraman and his smirk drops.

"Ah Mac, c'mon dude not again—" and the TikTok ends.

#danny phantom #batman #dp x dc #dp x dc au #dp x dc prompt #dp x dc crossover #bruce wayne #jason todd #danny fenton #my writing

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phantomsies · 8 months ago

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𝖓𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖘 𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖘 | 𝖆. 𝖆𝖗𝖙𝖑𝖊𝖗𝖙

spending the evening with a man who could have any girl he wants but he proves why it’s always been you…

producer/nepobaby armin, musician au, black fem reader, dancer!reader (reader is in Pole Assassins), soft sex, back scratching, lots of intimacy, slow kissing, oral sex (f. receiving) body worship, banter between armin and reader, missionary, creampie, slow build/burn (?)

I’ve been suffering from a severe case of armin brain rot lately and I’ve been missing the musician au even more!! this is a reupload from my patreon so if you read this, no you didn’t! 🫶🏾

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He’d traveled the world once over…experienced a lifetime full of adventures at only a mere two decades into his life. From sailing on yachts as a child, exploring the ocean in between piano lessons and algebra courses…to making music with his friends that would touch the lives of people in every nation and becoming a household name in the process. However, Armin Artlert’s notoriety had transcended that of just playlists and edits by adoring fans. He harbored a reputation that had come to precede him throughout his duration as an artist and internet sensation. The infamous ArminHammer was notorious for two things: iconic instrumentals and his expansive roster of women. Every girl of every variety was at his disposable..models, strippers, actresses, singers, the single mom who happened to attend one of their shows and needed a good time. He wasn’t picky nor did he allow preference to stand in the way of fulfilling his carnal desires. Make no mistake, he didn’t dog his women out or harm them..hell, if anything, he made every girl he encountered feel like a princess. Spoiling them with gifts, expensive dinners and of course, the best sex you’d ever experience! To put it even more bluntly, the man fucked like a professional..he was skilled in many areas and the bedroom happened to be the top.

But perhaps, that was the issue…he was the ideal man in every essence of the word. He’d make any lady feel as if she’d met her prince charming!..

….so how could you ever believe him when he said that you were the one he’d been searching for this entire time?

How could you possibly think that you’d be the sole object of his affection when it seemed those regards could be said of any women who’d crossed his path? Honestly, there was no definite answer to convince you otherwise. Armin was aware that you’d always kept your ear to the streets and had been informed about how he operated. That was all but confirmed when your teammate and friend began dating his childhood homie. Another infamous artist by the name of EJ the Don. Much like the woman who had founded the very group you were a part of, the Pole Assassins, EJ was seen as the proverbial leader of his own collective, Dead Boys Society and although they both despised the labels, you still respected her as such.

you could also sense that Armin held the same regard for his best friend and fellow artist. He looked up to Eren and admired how focused, driven and goal oriented he was in his craft. Most importantly though, he admired the way he loved..

EJ was never known to be a romantic nor was he known to be entrenched in the dating scene, but once he began dating your team mate, he had transitioned into an entirely different man. One that was attentive, doting and even a little jealous. He was openly affectionate with her and never thought twice about it. Gushing about her in interviews, where prior, he would’ve never even mentioned a woman besides his mom. It was that complete switch that had activated something within Armin as well. What he had been seeking in multiple girls could only be found in one place and that was with (y/n) (l/n). He’d spent all this time around you and had found himself falling deeper for you than he had anyone else. Your laugh, your energy, your spirit and kind heart had all enraptured the heart of the notorious playboy. And you couldn’t fool yourself either..you’d become smitten with him just the same…however, you were guarded. You weren’t so far deluded in the fantasy of being with him that you’d soon forgotten his reputation! You weren’t perfect by a long shot either..God knows, you’d partaken in your fair share of hookups and dated a couple of athletes just to say you did. Even so, you felt a hint of insecurity. How could you ever satisfy his cravings when he’d sampled the whole platter?! That was a question you’d soon find the answer to when you decided to spend a weekend at his home. A lofty, luxurious penthouse that overlooked the city and beaches of the sunny Miami, Florida.

it was a beautiful place and one of the many pieces of real estate owned by the Artlert conglomerate. One thing you’d come to learn about Armin was that music was nothing more than a beloved hobby. As much as he poured into his craft, his financial situation wouldn’t waver in the slightest if he were to stop today. He’d grown up with billionaires for family and that generational wealth had certainly trickled down. Regardless, it wasn’t his sole identity, hence why it’d never arise in conversation. It was blatantly obvious in his lifestyle choices but he was still that innocent, nerdy, wide eyed boy he’d always been to his core. The sensitive, kind, gentle Armin that only a select few witnessed. That was the side he wanted you to see here tonight..

so as you traipsed across the marble accented floors and art littered walls of his penthouse..all the way to his bedroom, you’d realize that you were where you belonged.

“You coming to lie down, beautiful? You’ve been in there forever.”

“Just a few more minutes, I promise! I wanna make sure I’m looking right.”

honestly, he didn’t understand all of the trouble. He’d seen you fully nude and completely clothed..you were beautiful no matter the form. Hell, you could come out in a plastic bag and pair of Timberlands and he’d still be hungry for you! He loved you dearly and nothing could dare to change that fact now! But after you two had retreated to his bedroom after an evening out on the town and he’d longed since undressed, you insisted on going to the bathroom and freshening up with a shower before retreating to bed. However, there was one more

“Well hurry up, please. I miss you..” stating in a whiny tone as he flailed himself against the mattress. Arms stretched out atop the pillow as his shirtless top half grazed the sheets. His designer boxers rubbed viciously with the silk bed linen, causing a bit of friction. Outside of the glass window pane, fell heavy droplets of pouring rain to set the already sensual mood. Electronic candles flickered in the corner and soft melodies of R&B played from the mounted television. It was certainly a vibe that you could become accustomed to. Across from where he lay, sat a half empty bottle of Modavi and two glasses that had been previously filled with the liquid. You were both feeling a bit tipsy from the substances coursing your veins so it was apparent what the mood was for the evening. He couldn’t bear to wait a moment longer and fortunately for him, you didn’t keep him held up. Because it was as he was getting ready to lie back down, he’d hear the faint tapping of footsteps against the tile and be greeted with a sight that would soothe his soul and sore eyes alike…

“Well I’m sorry to keep you waiting ..” flashing him a cheeky smile in regards to his earlier comment. Instantly, his jaw fell slack and his top half arose from the bed to examine you over.

“Oh my—you look—…. damn, I can’t even talk. You got me speechless, girl.”

sending you into a fit of giggles as you showed off your ensemble for him. A sheer white, lace two piece with garters that wrapped your thick thighs, a thong that was swallowed up by those round cheeks and a bra that accentuated your voluptuous breasts..causing them to sit upright. You were glistening with oil, and that luscious brown skin shimmered in the candlelight. Those forty inches of black curls were styled into an updo atop your head, along with that diamond necklace he had procured for you a few weeks ago. Even this was a first for Armin..he’d spent his fair share of evenings with the ladies but it always involved moments of rushed disrobing and him trying to get in their pants as quickly as possible. He didn’t waste time with lingerie or fancy frills because the goal was to grant her the best sex possible. Of course, he obtained gratification from this as well..but sometimes, he craved more. More than just the act of sex itself…it was intimacy he desired. The subtle touches and little gestures that helped to curate that special moment..he wanted to take his time and give you an experience that you’d soon yet forget.

“..then I guess it was worth the trouble..” his reaction elicited a light chuckle as you veered over to the bed, crawling onto the mattress and into the embrace of your precious lover. It was warm, inviting almost…strangely enough, an unwavering sense of safety crept over you as well. All of those previous thoughts of insecurity and jealousy seemed to dissipate once his hands coiled your body. He’d pull you in a little closer, squeeze you a little tighter and when his lips finally clashed with your own, every worry that had plagued either of your worlds were mere afterthoughts.

“God, you’re so beautiful..I swear you wear the hell out of everything you put on..”

“You’re too charming for your own good, you know that? It’s gon’ get you in trouble one day.”

“I like the sound of that.”

the tender and humorous moment was shared underneath the flickering candlelight as your flesh melded into one. Sitting upright in a cross legged position, your calves coiled his lower back and your arms cradled the back of his neck. Meanwhile, his hands resided around your waist and maintained a firm grip. He could hear your sentiment but even he grew skeptical at times. He often worried would his past elude him and ruin any potential future he could procure with you. All of his other prospects were nothing more than fleeting memories now. Even for someone as confident and skilled as Armin was, he experienced any other emotion just the same..maybe even more. Regardless, you’d continue to quell his anxiety and ease any doubt in his mind that you were leaving anytime soon. With those soft touches and gentle kisses, slowly but surely, you’d melt away all that rattled his mind. Eventually, your tongues would find home within one another’s mouths, initiating a series of sloppy pecks in process. It was then that you’d also begin to feel the thin straps of that top gliding down your shoulder blade. He just wanted to make you feel the best you had in a long time and he’d take as long as he needed to fulfill that obligation. He owed it to you for all of the insurmountable love you’d given him.

“Armin…baby..”

a faint whisper escaped your now freed lips as he latched onto your neck following the broken kiss. He’d gently suckle on that deep colored flesh and leave a trail of pecks along your jugular vein, even along your earlobe…it was there that he’d merely nip at the skin and whisper into it. Which sent a barrage of tingles all over your body.

“Yes, sweetheart? Something on your mind?”

“Ahh—“ “..words, baby. Let me hear that shit.”

that lilt in his tone, a clear indicator that he was going to relentlessly tease you from here on out. You always became so anxious when he did but the buildup made the actual moments all the more worth it. “You can tell me anything you want, pretty girl. This is all for you..your space. Whatever you say…I’ll do it.” His words serve to entice you further, which took little to no effort at all. You were already sucked in with no chance of being free of his clutches anytime soon. As for your requests, it was easy.

“Just…make me feel good, please..make love to me..”

it was a definite statement; one he understood loud and clear. Now wasn’t the time to be prideful or allow his ego to cloud his perception. Rather than showing off, Armin wanted to fully submit himself to you and to the cause of giving you whatever your heart…and body desired. With that, you’d find yourself shrouded in another round of kisses, this time along your shoulder blades and eventually to those soft breasts. Gently kneading them between his fingertips, he’d circle the buds with his thumb and watch as they’d grow erect. “Mmmm..” “..that feels good, sweetheart?” Following his question with a whimpering nod as you examined his movements. He’d gently squeeze them together and massage them all over, just to make you feel more at ease. He always did love how supple and perky they were..how they sat so perfectly in your tops or dresses. He’d learned to view the female body as more than just a vessel of pleasure but instead, for the work of art it is. You were his divine masterpiece..his treasure and he wanted to appreciate every single square inch of your physique. Even the areas you didn’t exactly appreciate yourself…

“Good..I know how sensitive they are but that’s okay. I’ll be gentle.” Chuckling at your very visible reactions of having your nipples played with. It was your most erogenous area and he knew it’d only be a matter of time before you became even more aroused. That much was indicated by the way you ground your clothed slit into the mattress. (Y/N) eventually tossed your head back, rolling it onto your shoulders and emitting a sharp gasp. An expected reaction to all of the sensual friction and stimulation. None of which was lost on Armin. He’d shift a bit in his own positioning, attempting to conceal that obvious erect. This was a fine solely for your pleasure and needs. His urges could wait as far as he was concerned. He was determined to prove that he was fully and utterly devoted to you right now. The sounds of melodic love songs and pouring rain would continue to serve as the soundtrack to this precious moment. Right along with your sweet moans and his subtle grunts. You’d glance down to see the rising tent within his boxers as he began to lap all over your areolae and suckle on your brown buds. “Your tits are so perfect, angel. I love them so much..I love all of you. Every single part..” Constantly doting as he persisted..that’s when you’d reach down and grasp for that sheathed cock but he’d be equally as quick to stop you.

“Ignore it, okay? Right now is about you. I’m focused on making you feel good, just like I promised. You don’t need to do a thing.” This was what you appreciate about your man. He had such a calm, gentle demeanor. Something people would often mistake as sensitive or meek. But in the same vein, he could harness that into a dominant, masculine energy that required no assertiveness. You felt safe..secure within that space. You felt comfortable submitting yourself fully to him.

“It’s like you're everything I’ve ever prayed for..I’m so lucky.” Akin to that of a groom bedding his bride on the night of their wedding, Armin would lie his precious girl flat against the mattress and begin his descent down your body. Examining each line, touching each bump and worshiping every curve as if they were a gift from the heavens above. They certainly weren’t things that he took for granted. Especially when he finally made home with that divine center…spreading open your trembling thighs; courtesy of the gentle kisses and drawn out licksthat had been peppered all over your belly. “Mmmm…I love when you touch me like this. You always know what to do..” placing his thumbs along your pantyline, he’d rub your hips before placing two fingertips along the seat of your bottoms. “Of course, I told you…I’ll do whatever you want. All you gotta do is say it.” Naturally, the entire area was soaked and only accruing more stickiness the more he stroked your clothed bud. In an attempt to increase the friction and pleasure riddling your body, Armin would hone in on the clit and massage it until he felt you shaking in his grasp.

“Oh my God..” “Rub your nipples for me, sweetheart. I wanna see you get there so bad but I don’t want to rush..not right now.” Finally, he’d cease his teasing and peel back that thin layer of fabric, revealing your plump mound and lips, along with that swollen clit. You were practically throbbing and the second he grazed your skin, you’d instinctively contract. Those juices were already leaking before he could even think to touch or lap at the area. Meanwhile, you’d pinch and pull at the now stiffened buds on your chest, writhing in the sheets as you chewed at your lip. “You’re so cute when you make that face.” Chuckling whilst teasing the hard little pearl that had caused your entire body to heat up. “Aw, you just want that nut, don’t you, baby?” “Fuck—uh, yes..please.” Immediately shuttering at the idea of ruining such a sensual moment with profanity. However, Armin didn’t mind at all. In fact, it further encouraged him to get you there. “I know you do…I wanna give it to you so bad too..”

Normally, this was an opportunity he’d utilize to tease you relentlessly. Holding out on providing you with your orgasm, making you wait before he even made the slightest of movements…all of it in an attempt to get you riled up. Right there on the edge until you finally broke, all but pleading with him to give you what you wanted. But tonight?

“Ahh!—haaaa..yes..” “Uh, fuck…lemme taste you…please lemme eat this puss—“ his words trailing off into mere whiny drabble as his lips made home on your lower ones. Immediately, those pretty blue eyes of his were fixated on you as he delved into your center. The sounds of slurping and whimpering emitting from his mouth and only growing louder. With your legs parted on each side, (y/n) grasped the top of Armin’s head; clawing at those shaggy blonde curls whilst grinding yourself against his face. “Arminnnn…oh my gosh…right there.” Those moans would draw out into a high pitched wail. One that caused your legs to tremble and nearly retract around his head. But alas, that just wasn’t possible. With one fell swoop and only a single hand, he’d pin your thighs back and continue devouring your cunt. As his opposite one was preoccupied with stroking his own shaft. It was something about your scent, flavor and your sex that got him all aroused. Nonetheless, Armin would resume his feast..flicking gently on your clit, sucking your plump lips and even shoving a digit into your tight hole. Only coming up for air to check in on you..

“Something on your mind, pretty girl? Talk to me..”

“N—need you…need you in me so bad…oh fuck..”

although the sentence was a bit incoherent, your desires were heard loud and clear. Although Armin loved the idea of relentlessly teasing you, he also wasn’t much in the way of restricting you from your happiness either. If that was what you wanted, he was elated to fulfill the request. In what seemed to almost be a slight of hand movement, he’d maneuver and rise from where he was laying and would scoop your legs up in the process. He’d position them straight in the air and pin them together. Eventually placing them over his shoulder. “You need me? You want it that bad, sweetheart?” Cooing and questioning with a rhetorical tone. Meanwhile, he was hovering above you, positioned on his knees whilst that cock head teased against your slit. He already knew the answer and as far as he was concerned, it was yours. But he needed to hear you say it. Not just for the consensual aspect, but because it was what he’d been waiting for all along. Hearing you beg, plead and whimper for him….this entire time, he’d been so used to your independent nature, that there was rarely an instance where you relied on him. You were so far capable of handling your own, that he or no other man were truly necessary in your daily way of life. But right here…in this moment, in this bedroom and this space the two of you had curated together..

“Y-yes, please!..I need you. I can’t take it..”

he was your everything. Your one and only sole object of affection. With your gazes fixated on one another, you’d nod your head and coo to one another, whimpering until suddenly—

“Yeah?” “Mmmm…please!”

you’d feel that stiffened, aching cock glide between your warm, silky folds and remained nestled there whilst he gathered his footing. Normally, he’d take an opportunity to perhaps gloat or be cocky. Fucking you with a giant grin on his face, making your pleasure a second priority. But alas, he’d never be so arrogant or foolish right now..because only moments later, his head had rolled back on his shoulders and as he remained nestled within you, he’d release a heavy gasp. He couldn’t maintain his eye contact when you felt this good. Your pussy resembled that of a warm blanket or hug..inviting him in and never wanting to pull away. However, he’d refrain from such lewd obscenities and fill your head with more loving compliments instead. As you’d lie there, awaiting his next move, you’d feel a hand planted into the center of your tummy and his hips beginning to buck forward..gently pounding into you.

“Oh God…yes..I love the way you feel, baby. You’re so warm.. ‘s so good..”

meanwhile, all he could do was howl it to the air because he knew that if he even took so much as even a glance in your direction, his load would be buried three inches into your womb right now. He was adamant of taking his time because all of his undivided and full attention; along with every second he could spare…belonged to you. He was all yours, hopelessly to a fault. He had released fear..anxiety or the shame that came with being madly in love.

“Ahhh…Armin..right there..please don’t stop..”

“I know, baby. I know…I can feel you squeezing me, that’s your spot, isn’t it?”

it was a given..not only had your body become riddled with ecstasy but he could tell by the way you pawed at his abs that he’d reached that core. Smacking sounds had arisen from the creamy mess he’d made of your lower half. Sucking his teeth, Armin finally garnered the strength to peer down at you and once he did, he nearly lost all control and restraint. His strokes would become a little faster and stretch your tight little cunt in the process. Your legs, that once made home on his shoulders, were now pinned back nearly behind your head. A position he was certain you had no issue maintaining. Even so, it didn’t stop your from crying out to him..heaving and whimpering. He was worried that perhaps, he hadn’t regulated his own strength. But rather than an expression of pain, you were smiling!..grinning from ear to ear with tears rolling down your face. It was a sign that you were in complete climatic bliss.

“Y-yes..you're in my spot, baby. And it feels so fucking good…nobody can make me feel like this..” eventually reaching down to stroke your sensitive bud to aid in the pleasure. That gave him all the confirmation he needed to persist, even when he felt he’d reach his breaking point sooner rather than later. Breaking into a smile of his own, Armin would resume his deep thrusts, this time with a bit more speed and rhythm. His hips would roll fluidly as he pushed in and out; dragging more of your juices and secretions along with him. He felt as if he could conquer the world when you said things like that. “That’s right, sweetheart..I know it’s a lot but I know you’re the only one who can handle it..who can take this dick like it’s nothing.”

those words cause you to twitch and grip him even tighter. In that moment, he nearly faltered but it was also in that instance that the two of you established full blown eye contact and mere seconds later, your lips had met in a passionate crash. Only after you exchanged doting words.

“..I love you. I love you so much, (y/n)..”

“I love you too, baby! Oh my gosh, please don’t stop.”

the bed had begun to jolt against the wall whilst his tattooed knuckles gripped the headboard. Eventually, he’d collapse fully into your grasp, relinquishing this idea of full control and allowing himself to be a part of the moment. No need to establish dominance or submission..who was the better lover or even what past partners had done. But instead, embracing each other and becoming one. One body, one soul and one heart. You’d wrap your arms and legs around his frame as he continued feeding you those strokes..his face buried into the crook of your neck and your hands clawing his inked up back.. You’d coo into his ear, listening to his whimpers and inform him that it was okay for him to let go. That he didn’t have to hold back so that he could appear as this strong guy with tons of stamina. You took it as a compliment that he could go for that long, honestly..it was a far cry from his past hookups, that was for certain!..but so much more was at stake here than merely who reached their orgasm first. It was about sharing in ecstasy and concealing your love with a special moment.

“You wanna come, angel? You can if you’re ready, no need to hold back..”

“Come with me, please..same time, okay?”

declaring so confidently as you heaved into one another’s ears. He’d agree and mere seconds later, that speed and pace had reached maximum heights and it felt as if he were hammering into you. “F-fuck!..” “Shit!..I’m coming, sweetheart!..coming for y—“ it was in that exact moment, that it felt as if the world was shattering for the both of you. That something inside of your bodies had essentially broken and neither of you could hold back. Both of your eyes shoot wide open before they shut and you’d embrace each other for comfort. Your juices had splattered all over his cock and his warm seed had completely coated the inside of your womb.. neither of you could even function at this point. Just reduced to mindless babble and tears. He’d finally rise from your neck and greet you with disheveled hair, a beet red face and a toothy grin. Along with those fallen tears.

“C’mere..I need a kiss..”

“Of course..”

your soft features and brown eyes met his and the two of you collided with one last declaration of adornment. Lips and tongues meeting in a fit of desperation. Desperation to never be apart again. For as long as you were both of this world, you’d spend every waking moment wanting to be together. And there wasn’t a single thing that could break that.

“You have no idea how much you mean to me..I just want us to be like this forever. I love you..” and you’d cling to every single word. Knowing that they rang true, now more than ever. Stroking his head as he lies on your chest. There were times that Armin figured that he’d never find his one and only..that he was destined to be a bachelor until he left this earth and he was adamant that one woman couldn’t possibly supplement for having his fill of multiple.

“And we can stay just like this…I’m not going anywhere.”

but it was nights like this..that reminded him that he was exactly where he needed to be!

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lemonlover1110 · 26 days ago

Text

𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

Caleb

[Chapter 1] Star of the Night

Story Masterlist

Pairing: Caleb x f!Reader

Chapter Warnings: Minors do not interact! Panty Stealing

Chapter Summary: He's late yet again. He swore that he'd help you get Phoebe ready for the recital, but he showed up a little too late. Caleb swore co-parenting with him would be easy, yet he's proving himself wrong.

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi - Bluesky

The crowd holds in their laughter as their eyes land on the toddler who mindlessly spins around on stage, without a care in the world. The ladybugs perform the most basic routine, but at least they follow it. There’s one other toddler who stands still and looks into space, but nothing quite as entertaining as the little girl in the middle.

“She’s embarrassing herself, mom.” Your son whispers, feeling self-conscious for his sister. The poor boy is only six and already worries too much about what others think. Especially when he knows that some of his classmates are amongst the audience, watching as his little sister makes a fool of herself.

“Sweetie, she’s having fun.” You tell him, ruffling his hair. You can read all his worries with a simple look, and you want to laugh. He worries too much over nothing; it’s not a quality he gets from you, and certainly not his father. “Parker, you have to cheer up. It’s funny.”

“I practiced with her.” He hides his eyes behind his hands, unable to look at the little girl. Phoebe spins and spins, and she shows no sign of getting dizzy.

“You did your part, my love.” You whisper back. People are already staring at you, and it’s clear that you’re the family of the little ladybug that’s out of place. Though it isn’t complete yet, there’s a vital member missing. An empty seat next to Parker.

To add to Parker’s never-ending embarrassment, the last member of the family makes his grand entrance in the middle of the recital. Caleb is excusing himself, apologizing to the people in the row as he tries to get to his seat. When Caleb finally gets to his seat, he ruffles Parker’s hair, cheerfully greeting the child, “Hey bud!”

Parker shushes his father and points at the performance. Caleb can’t help but chuckle at his uptight little boy before doing as he’s told. Caleb glances at you, but you don’t even bother looking back. Your eyes remain on your daughter.

“What is she doing?” Caleb laughs as he spots the little girl that’s clearly out of place. Caleb is clearly talking to you when he asks, “How long has she been at it? Not long, I’m assuming.”

“She just spins and spins and spins.” Parker answers for you, and Caleb ruffles the child’s hair again. Parker quickly fixes his hair even though it’s to no use, his father will surely ruin it in a matter of minutes.

“She’s a star.” Caleb comments, watching as the little ladybug shows off. Caleb makes another attempt to speak with you, “She’s got a bright future spinning, doesn’t she?”

Parker shushes his father again, and Caleb bursts into laughter. The audience isn’t all that focused on Phoebe anymore, but instead on the man who came in late and is being obnoxiously loud. And perhaps you begin to understand why Parker worries too much about what others think… There’s a probability he gets it from you.

“Caleb, shut your trap.” You say through gritted teeth, and Caleb bites down his lip to not laugh again. Luckily, when the beautiful ladybugs are done, the attention is back on the toddlers.

“Why are you two so uptight? Have some fun, it’s just a ballet recital.” Caleb mentions during the transition of the younger class to an older one, but neither you nor Parker pay no attention to him. Caleb clicks his tongue, knowing that at least his little girl will pay attention to him later.

“Bee! You did amazing, my love.” Caleb greets his three-year-old with a beautiful bouquet of flowers, congratulating her on her first recital. Sure, she stood out a little due to her lack of direction but in his eyes, she did amazing.

“Thank you, daddy!” She exclaims, taking the bouquet that’s nearly her size. Caleb picks her up, and fills her face with kisses. It’s his way of apologizing for missing the first half of her performance, though he’d never tell her. He doubts he missed a vital part of her spinning.

“No she didn’t.” Parker muttered, earning that look from you. He tries to make the situation slightly better by saying, “She stood out from her class.”

“And that’s amazing! You could say she was the star of the show.” Caleb defends his little girl, kissing the top of her head. You slowly begin to walk out of the building, remembering that you have a reservation to get to.

“Did you like it, honey? Do you want to stay in ballet?” You ask her, taking the flowers from her arms so she doesn’t carry the heavy load around. You hold Parker’s hand as you walk to your car, ensuring the little boy doesn’t wander off.

“I loved it.” She reassures you with the biggest grin on her face. It’s nice to know she enjoyed herself on stage, while the crowd laughed. Maybe she won’t excel in ballet, but she certainly has a bright future on the stage.

“Hey, what do you say if you two ride with daddy?” Caleb suggests as you near your car, not wanting to ride alone. It’s the first time in the night where Parker is all in for something. The little boy’s eyes sparkle at the thought. One thing about Parker: He adores his daddy’s car.

“I wanna! I wanna!” Phoebe exclaims, making Caleb smile. He often wonders how he ended up with the most adorable little girl as his daughter.

“What about you, buddy?” Caleb looks down at Parker, and Parker nods enthusiastically. You roll your eyes, but bite your tongue since it’s what the kids want.

“Okay, I’ll see you guys there then.” You respond, walking a little ahead since they’re going a different way. Before disappearing from their sight, you ask, “Do you need Bee’s carseat?”

“No, I have one.” He answers, and you hum in response before walking off. You roll your eyes again, realizing you have a bunch of tiny traitors in your home. You can’t get too mad at them though, you wanted the weekend off, and this is just the beginning.

“See you there!” Caleb shouts, but it goes ignored by you. He simply chuckles, understanding that you’re upset with him. He simply takes his kids back to his car, ready to make amends during dinner.

“Color inside the lines, Bee.” Parker notices how his baby sister scribbles all over the paper, going outside the lines. Caleb keeps a close eye on the kids since there’s nothing else to do. You’re not in a talking mood right now, that’s clear.

“Leave your sister alone, Parker.” You tell him, making him pout. In the end, he isn’t too affected as his attention goes back to his paper quickly.

“They’re taking too long, I’m hungry.” Caleb comments with growing hunger and boredom. He’s about to ask the waiter if he can have some crayons and paper too; maybe his mind won’t be so focused on his empty stomach. “And you’re awfully quiet.”

“There’s not much to talk about.” You sip on your drink, avoiding the mere idea of making eye contact with Caleb. It’s clear as day, you’re upset. “Bee is the true star tonight, speak to her.”

Caleb presses his tongue against the roof of his mouth, eyes lingering on you before he looks over at his daughter. Phoebe has already said everything that’s on her mind, there’s no use in asking her any more questions. He knows that Parker isn’t the person to talk to right at this moment either, he’s focused.

“How’s work?” Caleb attempts to make small talk, trying to relieve some of the tension.

“Okay.” You answer, finally looking at him. You can’t help but feel a twinge of guilt as you look at his face. He’s trying his best and you’re pushing him away. “How about you? I’m assuming you’re busy since–”

You cut yourself off before you begin an argument at the table. It’s not worth it with the kids around. You put up a passive-aggressive smile, and rephrase the questions, “How’s work?”

“The fleet has been hectic.” He confesses, and you almost roll your eyes. You’d be understanding if he’d use his phone to make a fucking call.

“Yeah, I can see.” You click your tongue.

“Do you have any plans this weekend? Would you care to join us?” Caleb offers, and just as the question leaves his lips, the food gets to the table. The kids are now paying attention with their plates in front of them.

“Chew with your mouth closed, Bee!” Parker quickly reprimands his sister, and you’re happy about it for once. You get to ignore Caleb’s question, acting as if other pressing matters made you forget the question.

“Parker, it’s not your job to reprimand your sister. Phoebe, chew with your mouth closed.” You happily butt in. Parker begins to eat all prim and proper, while his sister begins to make a mess.

“So… Plans?” Caleb pries, and you ignore it as you begin to eat your own food. Even if you did have plans, it’s none of his business. He’ll have the kids for the weekend, that’s all he needs to know. You don’t ask about his whereabouts when he doesn’t have the kids, you don’t see a reason why he should know yours.

“It’s none of your business.” You reply, not even bothering to look at him. Before he can answer, a glass falls on the table and spills over to you. A gasp escapes your lips, cold water getting all over you. Phoebe lets out a shrill cry, letting it be loud and clear that she’s the culprit.

“It’s okay, mama. No need to cry.” Caleb picks her up and puts her on his lap while you cry to clean yourself up with napkins. Caleb then looks at you and asks, “Do you need a change of clothes? I have some in my car.”

“No. It’s fine. I’m going home right after this.” You answer, trying your best to dry off your clothes with a napkin. “I can sit in wet clothes for an hour or so.”

“Told her she should be more careful.” Parker shrugs, and you sigh. You should’ve known that dinner would be difficult. Even if Caleb hasn’t done anything wrong, dinner with him is always a complete and utter mess.

Dinner with your ex-husband is never an easy feast. Alas, it’s what you have to do for your kids.

Caleb never goes back to Skyhaven the same day. Ever since your divorce, every time he comes around to pick up the kids, he spends the night in the guest room. The cold dusty guest room, regardless, the bed is more comfortable than the couch.

After tucking in the kids, Caleb looks through his bag for some pajamas. In the faint distance he hears the shower, letting him know that he can’t shower for at least an hour unless he wants to use cold water. He’ll surely have time to kill.

“Caleb!” He hears and frowns.

“What is it?!” He yells.

“Would you be a dear and get me a towel?!” You yell back, and he laughs. Ever since you moved into the place, he’s told you time and time again that keeping the linen closet in the hallway is a bad idea. He doesn’t respond, instead, he grabs two towels and takes them to the bathroom.

Steam comes out of the bathroom the moment he opens the door, and he’d laugh if he didn’t know that the water is now ice cold. You’re using the shower curtain to cover yourself as you wait for Caleb to hand you the towel. He can’t help but comment, “No need to cover yourself up, nothing I haven’t seen before.”

“Hmm… You know, I don’t think my boyfriend would be too comfortable with that.” You respond, snatching the towel from his hand. His eyebrows come together as he analyzes what you’ve just revealed to him.

“Boyfriend?” He questions, and you chuckle, wrapping the towel around you. He follows you out of the bathroom and to your bedroom, not giving you the space or privacy to change.

“I’m seeing someone.” You answer, a sentence that can make his eye twitch. “Nothing too serious yet.”

“Is this why you don’t want to come to Skyhaven with us?” He crosses his arms, trying his best to look unbothered by all of this. You go back to the bathroom to change, closing the door on Caleb so he can’t peek inside.

“I won’t go back to Skyhaven with you because it’s my weekend off! You’ve canceled on the kids for the past month, now it’s my time off.” You answer, and you hear him click his tongue. You feel your blood boil at the mere action, reminding you why you’ve been mad at him all night, “And the one night I ask you to be early because it’ll be hectic with the kids, you show up during the performance! Co-parenting sure is easy when only one parent does all the work.”

“I’m sorry, baby. The fleet has just been so hectic, I haven’t had time to breathe.” He responds, biting his lip as he looks back at the bed with your dirty laundry. He gets a very bright idea at the sight of the cute black panties that you decided to wear today.

Caleb shouldn’t, he should keep his hands to himself. He steps near the bed, eyes preying on your panties.

“Work keeps me busy too, but I sure make time to be a parent.” You argue, while his fingers pick them up. He brings them to his nose, but before he can’t do much, he hears the doorknob twist. He hurriedly shoves the panties into his pocket before you see them. He sheepishly smiles at you when you’re back into his view, “And don’t you dare call me baby.”

“My bad, bad habit.” He puts his hands up defensively. You grab the pile of dirty clothes and throw them into the hamper, not noticing the missing pair of panties. “In my defense, I was late because I was buying Bee some flowers.”

“Buying flowers doesn’t take an entire afternoon, Caleb.” It’s clear that you’re not willing to listen to an argument, so Caleb won’t keep at it. He has a long trip with two young kids tomorrow, he has to sleep as much as he can.

“I get it. I’m sorry.” He says as he begins to walk away. At least he now knows why you’ve been so upset with him today. You note his eyes on your cleavage, and you roll your eyes.

“Stop staring, you perv.”

“Your boob is out, button up your pjs.” He laughs, exiting the room before he hears your scolding. He doesn’t get too far before he feels a shoe hit the back of his head. He can’t lie, your aim has gotten better ever since you had kids, but damn it hurts like a bitch.

A minute passes by, and you come to his room, looking for something. He tilts his head and raises a brow, “Here to apologize?”

“No, I just need my shoe back.” You answer, taking it from the floor and showing it off.

“So…” He begins, and you hate the tone of his voice because you know what he’s about to ask. Still, you’re great at playing dumb.

“So…?”

“Who are you seeing?” He questions, and you can’t help but laugh. You should’ve come up with a lie about being insecure to avoid this situation. There’s nothing you can do now.

“You’d hate him.” You respond, and he hums in response.

“I’d hate anyone that’s with you, but sure. You aren’t wrong.” He ends up shrugging, and you chuckle. It’s funny, really.

“Should’ve thought about that before you started acting like a jackass.” You step toward him and press a gentle kiss on the top of his forehead. His breath hitches, though he knows there’s no meaning behind it. “Night, Caleb.”

And he has to put on a brave face, act as if he doesn’t care about any of this. He has to remain stoic, as he responds, “Night.”

#dividers by cafekitsune #[little things]#caleb x reader #caleb #lads caleb #love and deepspace caleb #lnds caleb #caleb lads #xia yizhou #caleb xia #caleb x you #caleb love and deepspace

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soulshaped · 3 months ago

Text

let me get what i want this time

remus lupin x reader | friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, slow burn

a/n: please, please, please let me get what i want by the smiths will never ever fail to remind me of remus. i was going to make this one part, but i got carried away… there will be more parts i promise!!! this is year 1

part two

wc: 5.1k

The moon taunts him from where it rests so very far, far away. It is the picture of serenity against the dark night sky and it seems to him as if even the surrounding stars kneel to its great light, head bowed, praying.

Son of the moon, obey me, let go and give in, give in to the wolf, just for the night

The voice is clear, booming and omnipresent, and Remus knows he can not escape it. But still, he is just a boy. He hasn’t received his letter from Hogwarts yet, and he does not know if he ever will. His bones begin to break, over and over again. The skin of his back tears, opening and closing to reshape itself over his growing form. He writhes on the cold, wet cellar floor until the transition becomes just bearable enough for him to roll to a stand, unsteadily. His teeth sharpen, his eyes darken under the moonlight. He is in complete agony, he is alone, and he is just a boy in the body of a wolf.

The next thing he remembers is the sun kissing the horizon at dawn, waking up gently, like him. The lightened sky is just bright enough for Remus to see the silhouette of his fingers without squinting, confirming that he has the hands of a boy once again. It would be brighter if it wasn’t for being in Wales, if it wasn’t for the days of unbroken clouds above him. He’s not particularly sure where in Wales they are by now, having moved around so often and so quickly for as long as he can recall. Even his earliest memories are of packed bags, rushed whispers, night drives. Loving fingers wound tightly around his little wrists, pulling him deeper and deeper into the mountains. Away from his little home on the coast with the bushels of wildflowers and tall grass he yearned to play in. He wanted to stay there, he wishes he could’ve stayed forever, but it’s far behind him now.

His father should be coming to free him soon enough. There are heavy metal bars on the windows above him, though Lyall’s magic was doing most of the work to keep the wolf’s chaos contained within the basement walls. Remus knows that he does not mean to be cruel – that his parents are only out of options, not of love. They tried for years and years to find a cure, or even temporary escape from the monster always lying dormant inside of him. The healers had nothing to add to the limited knowledge they had already acquired from ancient books, they knew nothing at all. So Remus knows his parents have only ever wanted what is best for him. But the cellar is cold and damp, his head is pounding incessantly and he yearns for laughter, he yearns for the house by the coast. He prays to a God that he’s sure doesn’t exist.

Dumbledoor shows up at his doorstep a few moons later. He enters through the front door, blown like a great wind. Lyall and Hope greet him politely, but Remus can see the shock hidden beneath their calm demeanor. He can see how Lyall’s hands have a mild quake as it meets Dumbledoor’s calm, warm palm. Remus shivers too, in hope of a new life. He stands behind his father, but the older man spots him quickly and slips him a small grin. It was nearly imperceptible and it felt like a gift. The tea is still warm when Dumbledoor stands to leave. The meeting was short and concise. Remus would be attending Hogwarts come next September. The life he longed for suddenly seemed close enough to taste.

Fall comes faster that year. Just as the tips of tree branches begin to shine in a golden hue, Remus stands on a train platform surrounded by more people he’s ever seen. He finds his only comfort in his father’s warm, steady hand resting on his shoulder. The train conductor blows the horn in final warning and Remus turns to find his mother holding back tears. He can’t seem to find the right words to say.

“I’m sorry.”

“Oh, darling, don’t ever be,” Hope kneels down to meet his anxious eyes before continuing, “we only want what’s best for you.”

She picks up his case, pulls his nimble fingers over the handle and covers her hand over his in a quiet, gentle embrace.

“Hogwarts is waiting for you, Remus.”

He smiles toothily and bids them a farewell, promising to owl as soon as he can. He braces himself as much as possible before stepping onto the train and is immediately overwhelmed by the flurry of fellow students rushing about the corridors, presumably searching for their friends. Luckily, he quickly finds an empty train cart.

At least what he believes is an empty train cart.

In the very moment he sets his case down, a boy with brunette hair and crooked wire glasses pops his head out of what seems like thin air beside him. His head is excitedly floating about as his body (Remus hopes exists) is still invisible to the eye.

“Hiya! I’m James Potter!”

“Um… wha-”

“Oh! Sorry mate, I was hiding from my friend, Peter. I really wanted to scare the trousers off of ‘im.”

James’ body is instantaneously visible as he grips a glimmering blanket in his hand. He bundles it up to rest as a messy lump in the space between them.

“So… what’s your name?”

Remus opens his mouth to answer when he’s ambushed once again. This time, by a very flustered, freckled boy out of breath.

“James,” he squeaks in relief, “there you are, I’ve been looking for you all over this train!”

Remus assumes this must be the Peter that James was referring to. He looks towards Remus with a curious gaze, as if he was nervously sizing him up. It confused Remus greatly, as he didn’t really see himself as threatening, but maybe it was the scars. No one has ever really seen them, outside of his family and himself, so he couldn’t exactly predict a stranger’s reaction to them. He feels the heat traveling rapidly to his cheeks and turns his eyes to the floor. He can almost hear the wolf laughing at his own timidness.

“Well, I was trying to scare you, but he found me first!”

“Who’s this?”

“He was about to tell me before you rudely interrupted us, Pete,” James says without a hint of malice.

Remus looks up to be faced with widely different expressions. While Peter’s eyes are slightly narrowed, James’ eyes are wide and enthusiastic, paired with the widest smile he’s ever seen. It’s infectious and he can’t help but smile back.

“I’m Remus. Remus Lupin.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lupin.”

“Hey! Who are you lot?”

Another head pops into the compartment, which seemed to be growing smaller and smaller by the second. Remus sees the long, black hair first, before a very clean, cut boy with striking grey eyes comes into focus.

“I’m James Potter, that’s Peter, and that’s Remus. And now, you’re caught up!”

“My family hates yours,” the stranger declares confidently as he pushes in the rest of the way, “it’s perfect.”

He plops down across from Remus and next to Peter in a great huff.

“I’m Sirius Black. Anyone want a chocolate frog? I’ve bought about a million to just peeve off my mother.”

Peter jumps in excitement as Sirius empties an entire sack solely dedicated to chocolate frogs. Remus' stomach rumbles with anticipation, it was going to be a very eventful year it seemed.

The journey passes too quickly, Remus thought, even quicker with the company. As the train pulls into the station, Remus can just make out the aged stone walls on the very top of Hogwarts’ pointed towers. As the carriages pull them closer and closer to the castle, Remus feels a pull of anticipation from the growing pit in his stomach. He knew what was to come in the Great Hall; the Sorting Ceremony had terrified him for weeks, ever since Dumbledoor paid him a visit in Wales.

He knew Lyall was sorted into Ravenclaw when he attended Hogwarts, a house known by all of the wizarding world for their daring intelligence and wisdom. What if he was sorted into a different house, what would his father think? What if he was sorted into Slytherin? He had felt the harsh disdain and fear in Sirius’ gaze when Slytherin was brought up as a possibility, as if the entire house was a stain on Hogwarts itself. Remus swore he was going to be sick at this rate, maybe he could miss the ceremony entirely and be unsorted.

Two girls and a boy with long black hair sat across from him and the boys in the Great Hall. His hair was much shorter than Sirius’, and it was cut bluntly, adding a harsh sharpness to his frown. One of the girls had red hair that flowed gracefully down past her shoulders that were bouncing in excitement. The other was more distracted, her nose buried in a muggle book he’d heard of once or twice before. She had an incredibly peaceful smile, in such great contrast to the other boy that it was almost amusing. The more Remus looked at her, the more at peace he felt – all of the noise in the Hall dimmed around him in the nearness of her calm demeanor, a needed break. He looked away immediately when she turned up to meet his unintentional stare, red flushing across his pale skin. But when he peeked at her again from the corner of his eye, he saw that she was turned towards the front of the room now with the same, kind and knowing upturned lips.

To his relief and (equally as intense) shock, Remus was sorted into Gryffindor. All four boys now sit under the great red and gold banners together. James’ is unable to contain his proud exclamations at all of them, seemingly getting more obnoxious and simultaneously admirable by the second, while Sirius’ head seems to be forever hidden in his arms as he softly bangs his head into the wood he rests on.

“I’m as dead as dead can be,” Sirius groans into the table, “Walburga is going to hex me into the next century.”

James smacks a hand on his back, but leaves it resting there, gently.

“It’ll be alright mate, we’ll be right there with you, together! We’re Gryffindors now! All of us! There’s nothing we can’t do, we’re unstoppable!”

His energy was undeniably infectious, even pulling a smile out of Sirius who lifted his head to rest his chin on his hands instead.

“Potter, we get it! Enough, please, for the love of Godric, just let us all eat in peace for a moment,” the red head, Lily, exclaims from a few seats away.

The other girl, (Y/N), bursts out laughing with her head thrown backwards.

“Girls… who even decided to invite them anyway…” James mumbles, only ever so slightly disheartened by Lily’s scolding.

Remus smiles so hard, he finds his cheeks hurting from the tension. He hopes this feeling lasts forever.

The fall of his first year passes in a blur. Sirius’ birthday is the height of the season, with all four boys deciding to pull their first grand prank in celebration. Though Professor McGonagall did not seem to appreciate the exploding toilets as much as Sirius did.

Moons are just as difficult, even with Madam Pomfrey’s much needed aid, but Remus finds the break from his friends and schoolwork make his returns to normalcy more exciting than he could’ve ever imagined. It’s everything that he yearned for, and yet he’s still awaiting the inevitable fall of the curtain. To reveal what he’s secretly always believed, that this great life was never made for him, that there has been a grave error in placing him, of all people, in the midst of all of this incredible joy. He’ll wake up, one day, and the fantasy will cease to exist. It would be much more believable than his current reality.

It doesn’t help that so much of what his friends know is a complete fabrication, but it does help that he is the only one constantly worrying about the entanglement of his own lies. No one, to his knowledge, has come to suspect anything, yet. Remus thinks that this may still be due to the distracting excitement of their first year practicing unbelievable magic, but he’ll never be one to kick a gifted horse in the mouth, however temporary.

He tries to push aside these incessant thoughts and draw his attention back to his work scattered across the table before him. The library is eerily quiet as the evening draws to a close, but he welcomes the silence wholeheartedly. The joints in his knee continue to seer with pain with every wrong step, a result of the most recent moon, but he finds that the complete stillness of the library at this hour helps.

Suddenly, a loud crash sounds a few feet away and Remus jumps. In the same moment, a girl yelps.

“Shoot!”

Remus hurriedly glances around him to find you picking up a concerningly tall pile of books. He can barely see your face behind them. As he starts to arise from his seat to help, pain shoots so far up from his knee he can practically feel it in his throat. He sits back down quickly.

You manage to balance the pile on the corner of the long table and stand back in a huff. Your eyes meet his own in shock.

“Oh! Remus, hi!”

“Hi, (Y/N). That’s a lot of books.”

“Tell me about it, I don’t know what I was thinking, really, taking out so many,” you sigh.

“Couldn’t help yourself, I suppose?”

“Seems like it, huh?”

For the most part, the first year boys in Hogwarts seem to be in a constant state of annoyance towards all girls, any girl. Godric knows Lily and James have been bickering non-stop since the Sorting Ceremony.

But, Remus likes you enough, he thinks. You’re really nice to him and you laugh at almost anything. It makes him want to laugh and he isn’t used to it, it’s never come as easy to him as it does to you. He would never see peace again if he ever admitted his real thoughts to the boys, though. They would definitely think of it as a clear betrayal of everything they stand for – girls are the worst.

“Sorry for the ruckus, by the way, you seemed to be really focused.”

“It’s alright, wasn’t really doing much anyway.”

“Well, in that case.”

You plop down into the seat across from him and immediately take the first book perched on the very top of your mountainous pile. He looks at you questioningly.

“At least one of us should do something productive in this silent library.”

So the two of you sit peacefully, on opposite sides of the table, reading. Remus isn’t sure how long you’re really there for though. The next thing he remembers is waking up and wiping the drool from his chin as Pince looks down at him in reprimand.

“You have a bed, Lupin, I suggest you use it.”

Remus clumsily shuffles to a stand and starts to gather his things when he spots a single chocolate frog resting inches away from his quill. There’s a note attached in scratchy writing,

‘Sleepyhead!!!’

A corner of one of his blank parchments is torn off. Remus carries the frog happily in the pocket of his robes as he limps past Filch, grumpily hanging Christmas garland in the halls.

The holiday season rushes towards them in a hurry, carrying with it a new air to the castle. Maybe it is the layers of snow blanketing the surrounding land, barricading students indoors and leaving them to sprawl lazily across common rooms, deep into the night. Maybe it is the anticipation of their well-earned breaks, buzzing like electricity through their tired fingertips as they rushed to complete their final assignments. Or maybe it is, simply, a combination of all of the above, creating a surge of unrealized energy that seeped into the very walls of Hogwarts. Remus can nearly feel it in the soles of his shoes beneath him as he leaves his very last class before break. It seems as though his friends are a victim to this as well, considering he can hear their yells from three corridors down. He finally approaches the group, their noise reaching a peak as he nears, whilst James and Sirius wrap around his and Peter’s shoulders as they lead them back to the Gryffindor tower. Conveniently so, Remus supposes, as he hears several cauldrons explode at once behind them. By the end of dinner, rumors of ruined classrooms and chalkboards signed with utmost sincerity from the Marauders would be the talk of the school.

“The Marauders, huh?”

“I think it’s catchy,” James grins. “Don’t you think so, Remus?”

“Well, it’s definitely the best of the ones we came up with.”

“And it looks even better written down,” Sirius sighs happily.

Peter squeaks, “For the whole school to see as well!”

Remus awakes earlier than usual the next morning, eager to soak in just enough of Hogwarts to get him through the holidays. The guilt of dreading his return to Wales is overshadowed by the upcoming full moon, the memory of the basement, and the tired eyes of his father that will follow. The reality of his life, despite his best efforts in ignoring it, is waiting for him on the train platform, just a few hours from now. The overcast sky mirrors his darkening mood, but the incessant snoring from the beds beside him inevitably makes him smile. He knows he will desperately miss the feeling of never being alone for long, even if it’s only for the next few weeks.

As he swings his legs off the edge of his bed to come to a stand, he accidentally knocks something onto the floor. He doesn’t remember leaving anything at the end of his mattress the night before. It’s a bundle, wrapped (horribly so) in festive paper and when he picks it up gently, he finds more of them resting on top of his comforter.

They’re presents. For him, supposedly, at least according to his name scribbled messily on the tags.

The most expensive ones, a huge box filled with dozens of chocolate frogs and a brand new quill set, came from James and Sirius, respectively. Peter got him a box of Bertie Bott’s along with a nice note thanking him for his help in classes, wishing him and his family a Merry Christmas. Madame Pomfrey gifted him two small vials, a Pepper-Up potion and a Sleeping Draught, presumably anticipating his moon at the end of the month just as he was.

There was one more, the only one addressed to him in fancy cursive. It was a muggle book, Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier, wrapped in a big red bow with delicate gold trim. It was in rough shape, clearly used, with small markings in familiar handwriting all over the text. He’d seen you reading it once as he passed you by in the halls, but he didn’t think you’d seen him. There was a note as well, politely wishing him happy holidays with your name written in the same pretty cursive at the bottom.

“Found your presents did you, Remus?”

Sirius was sitting up from his open four-poster bed across the room, wiping the sleep from his eyes.

“Uh, yeah,” he responds, quickly tucking the book under his covers.

The curtains from the bed on his left rip open aggressively, revealing James’ wide smile,

“Well?! Do you like them?”

“Of course! I’m sorry I didn’t–” Remus turns away, unable to stop his cheeks from heating up, but hoping he can still hide them. “I didn’t realize you guys were getting me gifts. I’m sorry I didn’t get you anything yet.”

“Don’t worry, Remus, I’m sure we’ll like whatever you get,” Peter chimes in.

Before he can respond, Sirius throws a quick glare towards Peter on the other side of the room,

“Remus doesn’t need to get us anything, if he so pleases.”

“We don’t need anything in return, Remus. It was just a little something from us, no biggie, really,” James responds, more sincere than ever before. It was almost unnatural, given his usual joking tone laced into his every word.

“Thanks,” Remus directs at them before throwing Peter a smile, hoping to quell the much too wounded look on his face, “and I’ll definitely be owling you guys your gifts for Christmas Day.”

They moved on from the subject quickly then, their stomachs rumbling out for breakfast. Remus reminded himself to carefully pack the book you’d given him in between his cloaks later, just so he was absolutely sure your note wouldn’t get damaged.

For most students, returning to Hogwarts castle in the thick of winter was an unpleasant experience. Even after the constant excitement and adrenaline that comes with the holidays, students quickly descended into restlessness almost as soon as they stepped foot back on the snow-covered land. It wasn’t uncommon to overhear the groans and pleas for spring – the inevitable months of rain that would wash away the snow and bring new life. They were desperate for something brighter, something livelier.

Luckily for everyone, the Marauders seized all of this pent-up energy with vigor. Winter was officially the season of mischief, and they had a high standard to uphold after their iconic pre-Christmas prank. Remus found himself returning to the dorm after long days in the library only to see Sirius and James whispering and cackling at the foot of his bed more often than not. To their credit, they had various texts splayed open on their laps, though none of them were related to their courses in the slightest.

Remus, on the other hand, thought his research skills could be applied better elsewhere. He’s already read most of the beginner and elementary books in the library, after all.

Ever since he found a hidden cubby behind a small tapestry in one of the corridors on the way to Transfiguration (completely by accident, it was Severus’ fault for practically pushing him into it), it was all he could think about. It tugged at his attention constantly – in classes, in the common room, in his dreams. His curiosity for all of the other hidden spots throughout the castle–there must be hundreds in an establishment of this age–could not be quenched, not until he’d found them all, or most of them, at very least.

James’ invisibility cloak became infinitely useful for his purposes and given the endlessly gracious nature of his personality, he never once asked Remus what he needed it for. Remus would have told him, told all of them actually, if they asked. But they hadn’t yet, so he didn’t mind having a non-wolf related secret to himself. It almost made him feel normal.

He didn’t need the cloak tonight, though. It was still early and a while before curfew; the sun had just set when Remus finished his work, casting the sky in a mixture of pink and purple hues as he walked along the open hallway past the Transfiguration courtyard. It is getting closer and closer to spring now, and he has been able to push his boundaries of discovery even farther than ever before with the weather on his side. He’s found nooks and crannies all over the castle, so many, in fact, that he’s begun to wonder whether he should draw up a map soon. He’s thinking about this one particular spot tonight, behind a statue of an awfully hunched back lady with one eye, that he’s sure is something… if only he could find just the right spell…

As he turns the corner, Remus stumbles upon the first spot he ever found, behind the tapestry, same as before. Almost mindlessly, he pushes aside the thick, dusty fabric, not knowing what he was expecting to see. He nearly jumps out of his skin when all he can see is a dark mop of hair hunched over onto a dim ball of light. As the thing, whatever it is, turns around, he opens his mouth to scream. For a second, he thinks he is screaming, before he realizes the sound is coming from your mouth instead.

The gears finally begin to click into motion as his eyes dart from your familiar face (currently looking horrified) to the wand in your hand casting the Lumos charm. In your lap rests a rather large novel that you had snapped closed in your panic – it was The Count of Monte Cristo.

“What’d you do that for?!”

“Me?” Remus gapes at you. “You! You’re the one curled up creepily behind the tapestry!”

“Well… leave me to be creepy, then!” You huff. “What are you doing? Sneaking around peeking behind all of the castle’s tapestries?”

“I–I wasn’t… it’s none of your business!”

You narrow your eyes at him as the outer corners of your lips tug upwards slowly, as if directed by a puppeteer with a string. It sends a chill down the length of his spine, and he convinces it’s the residual fear from when he hadn’t known it was you.

“Alright, then.” You drop your annoyance instantaneously, shrugging your shoulders as if you really can’t be bothered.

“At least help me out of here, would you, Lupin?”

He quickly wipes his hands on his robes, just in case, before offering up his palm. Your small hand slips into his with ease as he tugs you lightly up and out of the hole. It’s cold, much colder than his, but he tends to run hot. It feels nice. Once you’re in a standing position, however, you unfortunately take your hand back to rest on top of the book in your arms and Remus isn’t able to relish in the physical touch for as long as he would’ve liked to.

“Shall we head back, then? It’s almost curfew.” You say distractedly, glancing down at your wristwatch.

“Sure,” Remus shrugs.

You don’t ask him again about why he was looking behind the tapestry, and he doesn’t ask you about your choice of reading spots. Thus, the pair of you are left in relative silence, with only your footfalls echoing along the cobblestone walls, in tandem.

As the Fat Lady portrait accepts the password and swings open, Remus gestures for you to enter first. He quickly follows, stepping into the toasty common room to find you stopped in front of his friends and Lily, lounging on the couch. All of their eyes morph into various different expressions–confusion, suspicion, amusement, a mixture of all of the above. Sirius’ eyes look especially full of mirth, but just as he opens his mouth, Lily kicks him from where she lays on the carpeted floor. You and Remus exchange a quick, confused look, causing Sirius to actually scoff.

“Well… anyway, bye Lupin.”

Lily walks over and winds her arm around yours, tugging you up the stairwell to the girls’ dormitory.

Remus sits down in front of the fireplace, facing his best friends, looking down at him questioningly.

“What?”

“He dares to ask us what?” Sirius guffaws.

“Are you two… friends?” James asks, one eyebrow raised in a slight curve.

Remus shrugs, “I don’t know… I guess? I’ve only talked to her a few times.”

He doesn’t dare mention your Christmas gift, definitely not now, maybe not ever.

Sirius frowns, clearly displeased with his response. “You better not replace us with her.”

“Of course not. Girls suck anyway…”

It lacks the confidence Remus was aiming for, but it seems to do the trick. Sirius laughs, James smirks, and Peter nods, all in agreement. They quickly move on to other topics, mainly discussing the upcoming prank they’ve planned. Soon enough, their yawns become more and more frequent and they head to bed.

Remus finds it hard not to smile as he remembers your angry expression after being scared.

Spring comes and goes quickly, and not before long, the sweltering heat of summer becomes almost suffocating. The Shrieking Shack, in particular, is unbearable in the heat. Still, he is dreading his return to Wales.

At the end of course exams, when all his first year work has finally come to a close, Remus gets a letter delivered directly from Professor McGonagall. The look on her face is unclear as she hands it to him–it doesn’t seem as though it is good news. But surely, if he was being kicked out of Hogwarts, if they decided that the wolf was too much, too dangerous, they would tell him in person and not through a letter.

He sits on it for much longer than necessary. It’s one of the last nights in the dorm, when all of the other boys have gone to bed with light hearts, he sits with his own in the pit of his stomach. It weighs heavier and heavier with each breath, so he tears open the letter in a blind panic, just to try and rid himself of this feeling.

His eyes scan over the words as fast as he can, but it’s a short letter and the meaning fails to make any sense. He goes back to the top, reading it slowly this time. It tells him to go directly to St. Mungo’s to meet his parents, as soon as he arrives at King’s Cross Station. It provides some vague instructions on how to get there, before ending with a few explanatory words.

Please ask the front desk for Hope Lupin’s floor and room number upon arrival.

Remus is many things, but he is not shocked. He is guilty, for feeling so much dread about returning home, all while his own mother was sick and stuck in a hospital, likely wishing to be anywhere else. Maybe, if he hadn’t spent so much time angry at himself, angry at the world, maybe things would be different. Maybe if the wolf never existed, Hope would still be healthy. The stress, after all these years, couldn’t have been good for her health. Remus is many things, but he is not shocked. He was not foolish enough to ever let himself fully believe that he could be happy here, finally get what he wanted. Misery seems to always follow him wherever he goes, even all the way to Hogwarts, and he wonders helplessly if he will ever be free from it.

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x you #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fic #marauders era #remus lupin #the marauders #remus lupin fanfiction #remus x reader

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wildfloweronwheels · 1 year ago

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this tracklist has me thinking so many thoughts you guys.

they broke up a fortnight into tour... the first show post joever was in florida... who's afraid of little old me being a twist on who's afraid of virginia woolf a film which starred elizabeth taylor and richard burton about a couple whose relationship breaks down at late night drinks in front of people... my boy only breaks his favourite toys - is she the toy??? free from the slammer where the slammer is an obvious reference to jail after all the criminal metaphors of her and joe tricking the system... but daddy i love him being a reference to the little mermaid where she gave up her voice for a man... clara bow being a 1920's film star who found her voice, married a guy who denied they were ever married publicly and then died + the majority of her fame coming from silent films where she literally didn't need to have a voice and then successfully transitioning into 'talkies' (films with sound).... the smallest man who ever lived vs. 'the loudest woman this town has ever seen who had a marvellous time ruining everything'... oh boy.

#taylor swift #taylor and joe #joe alwyn #ts11 #the tortured poets department #putting pieces together #fortnight #florida!!!#who's afraid of little old me?#my boy only breaks his favourite toys #free from the slammer #but daddy i love him #clara bow #the smallest man who ever lived

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kieransdoghouse · 1 year ago

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huge shoutout to boys who have been referred to with she/her for so long that it doesn’t bother them anymore

huge shoutout to boys who have fully embraced femininity for whatever reason, be it they have to in order to survive the misgendering or because they think masc presentation doesn’t look right on them

huge shoutout to boys who stop and stare and think for a moment when the document/application asks for their name and gender. huge shoutout to the ones who fill it out with their deadname and assigned gender.

huge shoutout to the boys who grow up to be men who die and are remembered as women.

huge shoutout to boys who never made it in life, who never had the friend group they wanted, the job they wanted, the wardrobe they wanted. who would have succeeded if they just had that injection sitting in a box under their bed.

huge shoutout to the boys who physically can’t transition, whose bodies can’t handle recovering from a surgery or who can’t wear regular clothes.

huge shoutout to boys who associate masculinity with abuse, hate, anger, who would rather die than be what that masculine figure was to them

huge shoutout to boys who don’t have the money to transition, who can’t afford a trip to a clinic or the shots that come afterward, who have to work every day for twelve hours at multiple gas stations to get by, with help.

huge shoutout to boys who don’t live in a safe place, who can’t afford to be known around town as Clarissa and morph into Henry. who had long hair all his life and then didn’t. who painted his nails until he didn’t. who wore lace and skinny jeans until he didn’t. who would be assaulted for it, and even be killed for it.

if youre any of these people it should be made clear that you are and always will be men. it doesn’t matter what your outside shows, or what youre told, or how youre forced to behave or look. your manhood is stored in the heart, it always has been, that’s how youre aware of it, and its always there, and it will always show, be it in the way you talk or the things you like or the job you have. and if it doesn’t, that’s okay too. your manhood is something you just are, and you always will be as much of a man that Max who started transitioning at 13 is. none of the rest matters. if you need a guy to spraypaint your name onto your gravestone, i have a guy. you will make it.

#transgender #transmasc #transmaculine #trans pride #trans positivity

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dixons-sunshine · 8 months ago

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Carbon Copy | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: With the small Halloween event you and Michonne had been planning right around the corner, your son asked you about it. After a small discussion, your son quickly revealed what—or rather, who—he wanted to be for Halloween, and you just knew that it would make Daryl beyond happy.

Genre: Fluff.

Era: Alexandria, set post the bridge.

Warnings: None.

Word count: 2.7k.

A/N: Based on this idea by @bambidixon. I hope I did your idea justice! Also, go check out @dixonsstinkysock’s take on this idea! It’s absolutely amazing. You can find it on their page, under the title “Twins”. Anyways, as always, I hope y’all enjoy this! And happy (early) Halloween!

“Mama, what’s Halloween?”

The sound of your little boy’s innocent question made you stop with the story you were busy reading to him. You looked up from the book and to your son, Jasper, looking into the eyes that mirrored Daryl’s so beautifully. In fact, your son was practically a carbon copy of the man you loved so dearly. Sometimes you wondered if he had inherited any of your physical traits at all, if they would show up as he aged. Although, if they did not, you would not be mad. Jasper had inherited quite a bit—in fact, a whole lot—of your personality traits. That would be more than enough.

“Halloween?” you asked rhetorically, although Jasper still nodded his head in confirmation at your question. “Halloween was a night in the old world where kids would dress up like their favourite person, play make-believe, and go trick-or-treating around to different houses where adults would hand out all sorts of candy.”

“Candy?” Jasper asked in delight, his eyes sparkling at the mere mention at the prospect of something sweet.

You chuckled and nodded. “Yes, candy,” you confirmed, leaning forward to tickle Jasper’s stomach. The boy shrieked with laughter, making you laugh fondly. “Why do you ask, Baby? The story didn’t even mention Halloween.”

Jasper shrugged his little shoulders, his face adorably serious. “Judith said Auntie Michonne is planning Halloween. Judith said all our friends will enjoy it.”

Oh. That. You had almost forgotten about the plans you all had been making regarding the holiday that played a pivotal part in all of your childhoods. As the leaves turned yellow, orange and brown, and the heat transitioned into a more tolerable chill, it felt only fitting to implement the first Halloween into the new world, to have the children of the new generation experience a night of fun make-believe, and candy never hurt.

The sound of Jasper’s voice snapped you from your thoughts. “Mama, can I go trick-treat?”

“Trick-or-treat,” you corrected him with a soft smile. You leaned forward to press a soft, tender kiss to his forehead. “Yeah, Baby. You can go trick-or-treating. What do you want to dress up as?”

Jasper shrugged. “I don’t know.”

You hummed in acknowledgement. You closed the book in your lap and placed it down on the nightstand, before giving your son your full attention again. “You know, when I was your age, I dressed up as my favourite superhero.”

“Really?” Jasper asked, his eyes sparkling as a smile spread over his face.

“Yeah,” you confirmed with a loving smile. “So why don’t you dress up like your favourite superhero? You like Spider-Man, don’t you? Or maybe The Hulk?”

Jasper shook his head at your suggestions. “No,” he said quietly. “They’re not my favourite superheroes.”

“No? Okay,” you voiced in surprise. Jasper absolutely loved Spider-Man, so his denial at your suggestion to dress him up like the infamous Peter Parker surprised you. “Who’s your favourite hero then, Ducky?”

He giggled at the nickname—a nickname you had given to him due to his love of ducks—before adapting a serious look. “I like Spider-Man, but he’s not as cool as Daddy.”

That admission instantly put a smile on your face. You knew exactly where this conversation was going to go. “So Daddy’s your favourite superhero, huh?”

Jasper nodded with an eager smile. “Yeah! Daddy is strong, and brave, and kind, and strong! He’s not even afraid of the dark, or spiders! He’s the bestest superhero ever!”

“He is, isn’t he?” you agreed. “So you wanna be Daddy for Halloween?” When Jasper nodded eagerly, your smile widened, if that was even possible. “Okay, then. I’ll see what I can do for you.”

“Can I get a bow, too? And a bike?”

“Crossbow. And yeah, I’m sure I can get you one, and I’ll see what I can do about the bike. But then you have to be good and let me finish our story so that we’re both ready to go to bed, okay?”

“Okay!” Jasper agreed, nuzzling himself back into his pillows and adjusting the covers around him. However, before he completely settled down, his soft voice spoke up again. “Promise that Mama won’t tell Daddy? I wanna surprise him.”

You smiled softly. “I promise,” you replied, before picking up the book again and continuing to read the story. In seemingly no time at all, Jasper’s eyes began drooping, until he was fast asleep, his prior excitement having worn him out more than the actual story had. Once you were absolutely certain that he was out cold, you placed the book down and pressed one final kiss to your son’s forehead, before getting up from the bed and leaving his room.

You smiled at Daryl as you stepped into your shared bedroom. The man in question was spread out on your bed, his arms resting behind his head as he glanced from the television—a luxury you would never take for granted ever again—to you, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Wow. Ya actually got him down for the night?” Daryl mused aloud. “Ya were takin’ so long, I figured he was gon’ have ya in there all night.”

You laughed lightly and flopped down on the bed, nuzzling yourself into his chest and sighing in contentment when his arms wrapped around you. “Jasper and I got to talking for a little while before he settled down for the night.”

“Yeah? What about?” Daryl inquired. He nuzzled his face into your hair, deeply inhaling your clean scent.

“Halloween. Michonne and I have been planning a small Halloween thing for the kids. Jasper and I were discussing what he wanted to be for Halloween.”

“Y’all come to a conclusion?” When you nodded, Daryl continued. “What’s he gon’ be?”

“More like who, and I can’t say. I promised him that I’d keep it a secret,” you told him, a knowing smile on your face.

Daryl groaned playfully. “C’mon, seriously? M’sure that he’d want his ol’ man to know.”

“He wants me to keep it a secret,” you repeated, although you conceded to give him a little bit of insight, because you were absolutely certain that he would get it wrong. “But I can give you a clue, and if you figure it out, you have to make sure to act surprised when you see him in his costume, okay?” When Daryl nodded, you continued. “He wants to dress up like his favourite superhero.”

Daryl hummed. “So he wants to be Spider-Man. Ain’t too sure why that’s s’posed to be a secret, but alright. I’ll make sure to act surprised on Halloween.”

You simply smiled. Good, he did not know. You still had the element of surprise on your side. You were absolutely certain that Daryl would love your son’s outfit, and you knew he would feel so happy to know he was his son’s biggest inspiration, his biggest idol.

Now all you had to do was gather everything needed to duplicate Daryl’s look, but that could not be that difficult, could it?

You could not have been more wrong. It could indeed be that difficult. Two weeks to gather everything needed for Jasper’s costume, and you nearly failed. You and Michonne—who was on her own search for costumes for Judith and RJ—had been scouring every clothing- and toy store for miles, and you had nearly shot point blank each time.

You had eventually found a toy crossbow after nearly a week of searching. However, the clothing had been a completely different story. Jasper, thankfully, owned various jeans that could be modified to look similar to Daryl’s, and you could cut the sleeves off of one of his shirts if push came to shove, but you were completely stumped on the vest for the longest time. It appeared as if though vests for children in the old world had not been a big priority, because you only managed to find a vest that was way too small for Jasper’s frame. You had nearly given up on your search, and had already been planning the apology you would have to give to your son, when Michonne had announced that she had found something. The vest was slightly too big, but with some quick sewing magic, you would be able to fix that problem in no time.

You were not able to find a bike, but Jasper had not been upset about that, too enthralled by the prospect of having his own crossbow, so you had thankfully been able to get out of that one without any fuss.

The tricky part to the whole secrecy ordeal of your son’s costume was keeping Daryl from seeing you modify Jasper’s clothes. You had to resort to sneaking out of bed late into the night when Daryl was out cold and locking yourself in the bathroom with everything needed to complete the look. You had luckily secured the colours needed to paint the signature wings onto the vest, and you had been able to sew a patch onto the small jeans to make it look like the jeans Daryl almost always wore, and you had cut the sleeves off of one of Jasper’s button up shirts, all while keeping Daryl out of the loop on your plans.

It was difficult, but it would all be worth it in the end.

When the day arrived, Daryl had been instructed to wait in the living room by your son. The archer had sent you an amused look, but had complied with his son’s request nonetheless. Jasper had dragged you into his room, and had excitedly asked to see the costume, and the reaction you got was something you would not forget anytime soon. Your son was so happy, and had it not been for the fact that he was excited to show his dad that he was like him, he would have clung to you for hours, so tight he was hugging you.

“Baby, I know you’re excited, but you gotta keep still, okay? I don’t wanna accidentally hurt you.”

Jasper giggled boyishly, but he heeded your warning. “Sorry, Mama,” he apologized halfheartedly.

You chuckled fondly at him. “I know you are, Ducky.” You applied the last bit of the red makeup to his cheek, before pulling back and admiring your handy work with a smile. “And you’re done!”

Jasper gasped and hurried up from the bed to go look at himself in the mirror. He touched the light red mark on his face gingerly, the mark representing the one Daryl sported on his own cheek. You had not done too bad of a job recreating that, if you had to say so yourself.

“Yay! Thank you, Mama!” Jasper thanked you, rushing towards you to give you a tight hug.

You hugged him back instantly. “You’re so welcome, Baby.” You pulled back and grabbed the toy crossbow from the bed, showing it to him. He took it from you eagerly, making you laugh. “You ready to go show your dad?”

Jasper nodded, and grabbed your hand in his smaller one. Together, the two of you walked from his room, down the stairs and into the living room, where Daryl was busying himself by playing with Dog. However, Daryl looked up when he heard your footsteps.

Daryl was about to say something, but his words got caught in his throat. His eyes widened as he took in Jasper’s appearance, a small smile forming on his face. A lump formed in his throat, but he swallowed it away. He would not ruin this moment with his emotions.

“Wow,” he mumbled in complete awe. He got up from the couch and crouched down in front of Jasper, his smile widening into something more soft, more tender. “S’this yer Halloween costume, lil’ man?”

Jasper giggled and nodded. “I’m you!” he replied in excitement, twirling around to show off his full costume.

Daryl smiled at the sight of the wings painted onto the vest, as well as the meticulously torn places in the gray leather, closely resembling those on his own vest. Not even to mention how spot-on the jeans looked as well. The costume overall was just amazing. And even the scar on his face was spot-on.

If Jasper looked like his mini me before, it certainly did not compare to how much of a carbon copy of Daryl he was at that moment.

“Yeah, yer me,” Daryl replied with a smile. “We’re one in the same now, buddy.” He reached forward and ruffled Jasper’s hair, successfully eliciting a laugh from him, making Daryl chuckle as well.

“Do you like it, Daddy?” Jasper asked, his eyes sparkling as he looked up at Daryl. “Mama even got me a crossbow like you!”

Daryl nodded. “I love it, lil’ man. I love it so much.” He reached forward and bundled Jasper into his arms, picking him up. He pressed a soft kiss to Jasper’s forehead. “How ‘bout we go trick-or-treatin’, yeah? Then we can show everyone our costumes.”

Jasper laughed. “You’re not wearing a costume, Daddy.”

Daryl let out a gasp of feigned offense, but could not help the laugh he let out. “We’re matchin’. Seems like a costume to me.” Daryl finally shifted his attention back to you, and he could see the love clear as day on your face. Love for him, love for Jasper, and love for your life.

You stepped forward, a small pillowcase in your hand. “You two ready to go get some much deserved treats?”

Daryl nodded, and looked back at Jasper. “Whatcha say, buddy? Ready for some candy?”

“Yeah! Let’s go!” Jasper exclaimed. He wiggled himself from Daryl’s embrace, before rushing towards the door.

Daryl chuckled and extended his hand towards you, lacing his fingers through yours. “I thought ya said he was gon’ be Spider-Man.”

“No, I said that he was gonna go as his favourite superhero,” you corrected him. When Daryl looked at you in confusion, you laughed lightly and nudged his shoulder with yours as the two of you walked out of your home, making sure to keep Jasper in your sights. “Dar, you are his favourite superhero. He told me so himself.”

A smile spread across Daryl’s face. That admission made his heart swell. He knew that Jasper loved him, but he never knew he saw him like that. It made him so happy to know that he had not been failing as a father, that Jasper would rather dress up like him for Halloween than Spider-Man, a superhero he had been obsessing over since he had been introduced to him.

“I can’t believe ya managed to keep this a secret from me,” Daryl changed the subject, knowing that if he dwelled on what you had said, he would start crying, no doubt.

You shrugged nonchalantly. “Eh. A few late nights while you were asleep seemed to do the trick.” You laughed lightly at his look of disbelief. “I’m happy you like it, though. Jasper has been so excited about this since that night in his room.”

“I love it. Almost as much as I love the two’a ya,” he murmured. The two of you walked up one of the driveways, watching as Jasper eagerly knocked on the door. “Thank you. This was a real nice surprise.”

“Of course, Dar. Of course,” you told him. However, before you could say anything else, Jasper’s voice called out from the door of the person’s home, where the kind old lady of the community was standing, with a bowl of candy in her hands.

“Mama, Daddy, quick! I need the bag for the candy!”

You and Daryl shared a chuckle, before hurrying up the driveway and to your son. Together, the three of you went house to house, passing several kids and parents on the way, although you were not concerned about that. Your only concern was how happy you were in that moment, basking in something you had thought was lost to the world before; Halloween with the people you loved.

And if you noticed that Daryl silently placed more candy into Jasper’s pillowcase—candy he had found on a run, specifically for the occasion—when you all got home later that night, and how he whispered to Jasper to ‘not tell Mama’, you did not say anything. You would let it slide this one time, too delighted to care much about it.

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ageingfangirl2 · 1 month ago

Text

Ran's Little Waitress (Tokyo Revengers - Bonten)

RAN HAITANI X FEMALE READER

CHAPTER EIGHT: A LITTLE BOOST TO YOUR CONFIDENCE

ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN NINE TEN ELEVEN TWELVE

The morning sunlight filtered softly through your curtains, casting warm stripes across the floor and your small kitchen table. You sat there in your pyjama shorts and oversized hoodie, one hand wrapped around a steaming mug of tea, the other typing quickly on your phone.

You’d just checked your bank account. The moment you saw the backpay deposit, your eyes widened. You double-checked the numbers—yep, all there, down to the last yen. Your heart gave a little leap of relief, and your shoulders slumped like you’d been holding tension without realising.

To: Ran HaitaniThank you so much for sorting out the pay issue. I really appreciate it, especially with rent coming up. I owe you one. Maybe a whole batch of cookies?

You hesitate a second, rereading the message, then hit send.

Setting your phone down, you pull out your worn planner and a stack of colour-coded pens. It was budgeting time.

With quiet focus, you broke down your expenses—rent, utilities, groceries, transit, and a little set aside for emergencies. You even budgeted for baking supplies, scribbling in ‘chocolate chips or bust’ in the margin.

By the time you were finished, your notes were tidy, your math checked twice, and everything lined up. Koko would’ve been proud—hell, he might even shed a tear if he saw how you’d stretched every yen.

You sit back with a contented sigh, satisfied that you could stay on top of everything. Even so, a tiny smile tugged at your lips as you reach for her phone again.

To: Ran HaitaniAlso… I was serious about the cookies.

Club Office – Late Morning

Ran sat reclined in the sleek leather chair in his office, one leg crossed over the other as he skimmed through a stack of club reports with the kind of interest reserved for watching paint dry. The distant thump of bass from the main floor pulsed faintly through the walls.

His phone buzzed on the desk.

He glanced over lazily, expecting some nonsense from Rindou or a security update, but paused when he saw your name light up the screen.

First message:

Thank you so much for sorting out the pay issue. I really appreciate it, especially with rent coming up. I owe you one. Maybe a whole batch of cookies?

He arched a brow.

The second message came in just as he was unlocking his phone:

Also… I was serious about the cookies.

A slow smirk pulled at his lips. The kind that only ever showed when something amused him more than he’d like to admit. He tilted his head back against the chair and tapped out a reply.

To: Y/NYou’re welcome. Don’t mention it.Cookies are a dangerous bribe, you know. It could convince a man to do stupid things.

He hovered a second, then added:

You’re cleared to come back next week. Take it easy until then. That’s an order.

He set the phone down and stared out the tinted window overlooking the VIP level. For a brief second, the usual cold edges of his expression softened.

Then his phone buzzed again.

Rindou:She sent you cookies yet, lover boy?

Ran rolled his eyes and tossed the phone onto the desk, muttering to himself.

‘She’s just a good employee.’

But the small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth refused to fade.

Y/N’s Apartment

With the official green light from Ran, you tuck your phone into your hoodie pocket and stand in the middle of your apartment, letting out a slow breath. Your eyes sweep over the small space that had become your safe haven these past few days, then down to your now-fading bruises. Time to pull yourself back together.

Day One: Self-Care Mode On

You start with your hands—your tools, your charm, your secret weapon when it came to trays of drinks and folding napkins into perfect shapes. You book a quiet appointment at a local salon and requested something simple and classy.

You leave with a fresh set of French tips, clean and neat, the perfect blend of professional and pretty. You flex your fingers with a small grin, pleased.

Day Two: Hair and Healing

The next day, you sit in a salon chair while a stylist gently worked through your hair, touching up your colour and trimming away the damage. You watch yourself slowly return in the mirror—not just polished, but poised. There was still a faint shadow under your eye, but makeup could handle that.

More importantly, you saw someone who had survived something and was choosing to keep going.

Day Three: A Little Retail Therapy

You didn’t need anything fancy, but a stop by the drugstore for new makeup and a swipe of lip gloss made you feel fresh. A subtle shade of red, a bit of shimmer—nothing too bold, but enough to give yoy that quiet fire when you looked in the mirror.

You even picked out a new pair of earrings. Just little stars.

When you got home, you prepped your uniform, steamed the wrinkles out, cleaned your work shoes until they shone, and laid everything out like armour for a battle you were finally ready to face again.

Night Before Your Shift

You curl up on the couch with a blanket, your favourite anime playing softly in the background, a batch of taiyaki cooling on the counter—this batch with sweet custard inside. One would be set aside for Mikey, of course. The rest? Maybe a bribe. Maybe a peace offering. Or maybe you just wanted to share something warm. With a soft smile, you whisper to yourself, ‘I’m ready.’

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