#and i kid you not the introduction is just this guy going ON about how you're misinterpreting his blorbo askfhdg

[sp-by-april]

PC!Kyle x F!Reader [Part 2]

[Part One] [Kyle Broflovski Master List]

I heard from Kyle two weeks later. Honestly, I was used to guys hitting me up immediately so I kind of wondered if he'd just forgotten about me. I was relieved when that wasn't the case.

He said he was having drinks with some of his friends and to meet him at the end of the night and he’d take me to his place. Kinda weird, but whatever. I really wanted to see him.

As I walked in, I saw him talking to a bunch of other old guys.

“She is pretty,” Kyle said.

“She’s hot,” Stan said with a grin, “I was gonna pick her up first, but I figured Kyle could use the fun,”

Kyle frowned, “Is that how you remember it going?”

An awkward smile slid over my face as I embedded myself with the group of men and made my presence known, “That’s pretty much how I remembered it,”

“Pretty girl!” the guys all said in unison as they lifted their assorted glasses towards me.

Kyle kissed my cheek and leaned over my ear with a smirk, “Sorry, they saw my phone,”

I nodded, reaching for the drink in his hand. Thankfully, he handed it over without a second thought.

I finished the liquor and listened intently as all the guys rushed to introduce themselves to me.

Tolkien was a cop. Clyde… I still don’t know what he actually does. Jimmy, was a comedian that I vaguely remembered my mother watching when I was a kid. Kenny, billionaire, needed no introduction but provided one all the same.

I felt more awkward and out of place than ever. I think Kyle realized it because he plucked the drink out of Stan’s hand and placed it in mine.

I was used to older guys vying for my attention so I knew how to navigate it. Older guys tend to like when I’m bolder, brasher, and more irreverent than their younger counterparts. These guys were a lot less intimidated by a woman with a mouth and I appreciated it. I was nervous but the whole thing went fine.

Kyle and I left first. I could hear the guys talking about how lucky he got before the door even closed behind us.

When we got to his place, I was slightly annoyed with having his friends sprung on me but I was horny enough to let it slide. At least, I would have let it slide if he let me.

He looked me up and down as he hung up his blazer and I tossed my purse and pink capelet jacket on his couch.

Kyle tilted his head as he watched me, “What’s bothering you?”

“Nothing,” I lied and approached with my sultriest walk.

“I get it,” A slight smile slid over his face as he reached out and cupped my cheek in the palm of his hand, “You’re closed off because behind the walls, you’re soft – But you don’t have to lie to me,”

I rolled my eyes,“Don’t psychoanalyze me,”

“I’d never,” He chuckled, “I don’t think you could afford it,”

I’d had enough.

“You can’t ignore me for weeks and then spring your friends on me,” I fumed, “And you definitely don’t get to treat me like a trophy after the fact – Like I’m some stupid girl who doesn’t know that some guy is just using her for sex,”

He squinted like he was trying to solve a difficult equation, “How can I be using you for sex if I’m ignoring you at the same time?”

Okay, that time I’d had enough.

“Have fun explaining to your friends how you let a girl like me get away,” I said and spun on my heels to leave.

“I wasn’t ignoring you,” He sighed as my hand reached for the doorknob, “And I wasn’t trying to ambush you – Okay, I was trying to ambush you, but for a good reason,”

I turned back to Kyle and crossed my arms, “There’s no good reasons to ambush people,”

“The guys I made those plans months ago and I’ve been swamped at work if you couldn't tell. I couldn’t cancel on them and I wanted to see you. Besides, I figured it would be a quick way to help you get to know me. Kind of like a crash course,”

“You want me to know you?” I asked and took a slow step towards him.

He smirked, “Yeah,”

I took another cautious step, “Why?”

He glanced away and rubbed the nape of his neck, “Because I want to know you,”

“You were really just busy with work?” I asked, walking the rest of the way to meet him.

He slid his palm over my cheek and I stood on my tiptoes to give him a kiss and he leaned in, but instead he brought his face to my neck. His other hand found my waist and his nose brushed against my earlobe as he inhaled my scent.

“Trust me, if it were up to me I would’ve had you in my bed every night,” He sighed, his hot breath washing over my skin, “You have no idea what you do to me. I haven’t been this fucking horny since high school,”

He kissed my neck and my fucking heart skipped a beat.

Then the hand on my waist slid over my ass and he pulled me up against him, “I can’t stop thinking about the way you move your hips,”

He finally pulled me into a kiss and I nearly swooned in his arms. I parted my lips and he pulled me into a deeper kiss, his tongue sliding right in my mouth.

His hand slid up my skirt, just to pull my panties down. He pushed my back against the wall and dropped to his knees.

He kissed my thigh as his fingers slid over my slit. I’m pretty sure I felt his breath hitch when he felt how wet I was. His fingers pushed inside and I almost gasped. I think it was the anticipation. I felt like I’d been waiting forever for him to touch me again. The way he moved his fingers felt like fucking magic.

He kissed my hip bone and his fingers curled to massage that sweet spot inside of me. I bit my lip, trying to stifle at least some moaning so I didn’t sound like some slut. I should have known better. Maybe he was right about me having walls.

Either way, he increased the pressure and speed. I felt like I was completely at his mercy. He buried his face against my hip, which pressed into him as his fingers brought me to my climax.

Or they would have if he hadn’t stopped just as I was about to hit my high.

I looked down at him and I swear that I meant to bitch, but instead I just whimpered.

He looked up at me and smirked, “You’re even prettier when when you’re needy,”

“I’m not needy,” I lazily protested.

“Hmm?” He licked a thick stripe over my clit and my entire body shuddered, “Really?”

I whined so loud that I was actually kind of mortified. Seeing the smug look of satisfaction on his face just made it worse.

He got on his feet and threw me over his shoulder. He carried me to his bed, my panties still down at my knees.

He dropped me on his bed and slowly slid my panties down over my ankles. I watched breathlessly as he pulled off his shirt and unbuttoned his pants. Then unzipped. Then stepped out of them.

He stroked himself over his boxer-briefs as he looked at me laid out on his bed. I could see every bit of how badly he wanted me. When he finally lost the underwear, I thought I was going to go insane just from the anticipation.

“I want to keep you,” He leaned over me and left a small kiss on my collarbone, “I’m gonna make you my wife,”

“...What?” My breath hitched and I had to replay the sentence in my mind at least three times to make sure that I heard him correctly.

“I promise I’ll take care of you,” He rubbed the head of his cock over my slit, picking up my desire for him, “And I’ll make you feel good,”

He kissed my neck and I cupped his cheeks and brought his face to mine. I had to look him in the eyes.

“You promise to take care of me?” I asked him just above a whisper.

“I’ll do more than that,” He groaned as he sank deep into me and I gasped as I felt him push my body to it’s limits.

He held still for just a moment, both of us relishing the initial feeling of him immersed in me, and finally experiencing what we’d both been craving for weeks.

I grabbed onto his shoulders and my eyes rolled back when his hips finally started to move.

“You can do anything you want to me,” I said thinly, struggling to speak and not just moan.

His eyes were glued to me as I moaned shamelessly. His hand palmed my breast and his thumb brushed over my nipple, eliciting a softer moan from me that seemed to enamor him. He pinched my nipple and gave it a light tug, drinking in every soft sound I made.

A small smirk slid over his face just before he locked his mouth onto mine. He picked up the pace, his rhythm getting more and more intense. I couldn’t believe how good he felt, his cock was indulging my sweet spot with every fucking stroke. My hands ran down his back, my freshly manicured nails dragging over his skin.

His hand slid down, held onto my hips as he pressed me into his mattress and kept me in place as he irresistibly pounded into me.

My back arched and as I did my best to resist the orgasm. I lost the fight. My body seized up, and all the bliss that had built up inside of me swelled to an unimaginable, incredible level. Everything was incredible with him. My nails dug into his skin, my back arched even more sharply. I moaned brazenly. My moans were quivering and embarrassingly loud. The sacred space in my core fastened up around him and I grasped him like I needed him to live. Like he meant everything to me. Like I was desperate for him. I think I was.

As I trembled underneath him, the visuals and sensations of my orgasm pushed him over the edge. He groaned low in his throat and his eyes rolled back as his hips bucked into me. He sealed his mouth back onto mine as he drove deep inside of me and his hips noticeably twitched. I moaned into our kiss as his cock pulsed intensely and pumped me full of hot, milky spurts. His tongue slid into my mouth as he finished spilling every bit of his seed glazing my cervix.

He panted over me and pet my hair as all the tension that had built up in his muscles melted off of him. He kissed me again and a sly smile slid over his face, “I’m keeping you for sure,”

[hairmetal666]

Wayne's used to worrying about Eddie. He should be; he's been doing it since the kid was twelve. First it was Eddie's silence, his permanent frown, the way the bones stood out too prominent on his small wrists. Then it was the kids at school, taunting him and calling him names, the fights and calls from the principal's office. Next came the late nights, the drinking, the dealing, failing his senior year twice. But all of those times, every single one, Wayne had known what to do. Maybe it wasn't perfect, maybe it took a little time, but he'd always figured out exactly what his boy needed.

And now--now Wayne doesn't know if he can help; knows it's not in his power to fix it. 

So, he sits for the second week in a row, watching his nephew--his whole heart--sitting in front of the window, looking out at the forest, nursing the same cup of coffee that he poured six hours ago, and wonders how in the world he can help.

They're cleaning up from dinner, Eddie quiet at his side, when he says, "Gonna need some help with the mugs tomorrow."

After moving to Oregon once Eddie graduated and he retired, he found an affinity for pottery. Never woulda thought it, but he loves it and tourists love his booth at the farmers market.

He can't think of a better way to get his nephew out of the house, but wonders if he doesn't know his boy as well as he thinks after a decade in Los Angeles, that Eddie'll refuse. He just nods, though, goes back to drying the plate in his hands.

And next morning, right at 6:45, Eddie is in the living room in black jeans that are so worn they're nearly grey in places, and the threadbare Metallica tee Wayne thrifted for him nearly a decade back. It's a win. Small, yes--Eddie doesn't even complain once about the country-western station Wayne plays in the truck--but still a step forward.

Wayne wastes no time parking and handing Eddie a box of carefully packed merchandise. He leads the way, trusts that Eddie is right on his heels until he hears Jim Hopper's voice say, "You better keep an eye on those mugs, son. Your uncle will tan your hide."

He turns to see Hopper balancing one end of Eddie's box, Eddie's cheeks flushed pink. "Sorry, I--uh, I've got it now." Hopper lets go and for the briefest instant Eddie's eyes dart to the side and the pink in his cheeks grows deeper.

Wayne tracks the path Eddie's eyes took and finds--he swallows back a chuckle--Steve Harrington just setting one of his Adirondack chairs into place, his t-shirt lifted to show of a stretch of stomach.

Well. Eddie did always like the pretty ones.

They setup the booth in companionable silence, and Hopper pops back over for a proper introduction. Before he departs again, he says to Eddie, "I got some kids who really love that dnd game and your show. They're going to be crazy to meet you. That okay?"

And Eddie, he's a good boy, he smiles and nods but as soon as Hopper is out of earshot, Wayne's saying, "Hop's kids and their friends are big fans and I know you're heartsore about the cancellation, but you better be polite."

Eddie glares. "What do you think, old man, that I'll be mean to children?"

"Well, with how you've been moping around the cabin these last few weeks, hard to know."

He scoffs. "Yeah, well. Netflix putting your hit show on indefinite hiatus without warning or explanation will do that to a guy."

Wayne knows there's nothing he can say to soften this hurt, so he gives Eddie's shoulder a tight squeeze. "I'm proud of you no matter what, son."

His nephew nods, eyes down, but Wayne doesn't miss the small, pleased, lift at the corner of his lips.

The morning passes smoothly and Wayne pretends he doesn't notice every time he finds Eddie's gaze straying to Steve's booth.

The kids come by around noon, Dustin Henderson breaking away from the pack to shriek, "You're Eddie Munson!"

Eddie smiles, stands. "That I am, young adventurer." He bows low, exaggerated and the kids giggle. "Pray tell, what are your names?"

The chatter is fast and easy, Eddie the happiest he's been in weeks, and Wayne relaxes back in his chair, lets out a long, slow breath of relief at the breaking storm. He stretches back in his chair, eyes catching on Steve Harrington across the way. Steve who is watching Eddie and the kids with an expression Wayne can only think of as fond.

Wayne isn't one to play matchmaker, but--he thinks, just maybe, just this once he could nudge.

It happens late in the afternoon, when business has well-slowed, Eddie asking, "Um--that guy over there, who is--what's his deal?"

Wayne thinks he manages to keep all traces of amusement from his face and voice as he answers, "Who? Ohh, Steve Harrington. He's the guidance counselor down at the middle school. Does a bit of carpentry in his free time. Best friends with the woman who owns that little bookstore."

He watches as Eddie processes, as his eyes widen, probably in remembrance of the pride flags and Protect Trans Kids shirts, how the woman in question wore a lesbian flag pin on her apron. "Guidance counselor?" He says eventually. "Kind of a drag."

"You would think, but the kids love him. The ones you met earlier today? He babysat them for years; imprinted on him, Jim and I say."

"Hmm," is the only response he gets, Eddie's attention back on the man in question.

---

The day after the market, Wayne walks into the living room to find Eddie's laptop tucked into the cushions of the window seat. He hasn't seen the thing since Eddie came home, never used to see him without it, and this--well.

He says, "need to run into town for a few things. You up for a trip? You might could stop at that bookstore."

Eddie nods, takes a sip of his coffee--he's actually drinking it-- says, "Yeah. Yeah, I think that'd be cool."

The store isn't busy when they arrive, and Wayne drifts towards the magazines to leave Eddie to his own devices.

Wayne loses himself to quiet browsing, wanting to give Eddie space, to maybe chat with Robin Buckley, strike up the beginnings of a friendship. Enough time passes, though, that Wayne is wondering where his boisterous, noticeable nephew could've disappeared to so silently.

He winds around a shelf and sees Eddie and Steve Harrington in deep conversation. He can't hear it, not really, but they're standing close, with pink in their cheeks. As he watches, Steve says something that makes Eddie laugh and pull a few strands of hair over his mouth.

They're almost inseparable after that. Eddie, Steve, Robin, and all those kids. They play dnd, have movie nights, spend hours at the diner. And Eddie, he's writing, sketching, gets down Wayne's acoustic guitar and plays around for a while.

When he asks how things are with "that Harrington boy," Eddie flushes red and says, "none of your business, old man" before giving Wayne a quick, affectionate squeeze. 

---

Two and a half months after Eddie came to stay, Wayne's walking back from the river, the sky the light navy of new dusk. His fishing rod is draped over one shoulder, tackle box held easily in his fist, the walk home pleasant, a perfect end to a good day.

The light from the front porch seeps through the trees, and he's thinking about a cold beer, a warm pizza, if Eddie's found his way home yet, when figures standing on the porch stop him in his tracks.

It takes a second, longer, for his eyes to adjust from the dark of the woods, and the glow of the bulb, but then he sees--

Eddie and Steve locked in a fierce embrace, desperate and very much private.

He turns right back towards the river, doesn't mind giving the boys some time.

He waits a good half hour, just enjoying the forest, before heading back. Steve's car is gone, the porch vacant, but the cabin is lit up, bright and warm and inviting.

Wayne steps inside, and his nephew is there, laptop open, but he isn't working, just smiling to himself, chin resting on his fist.

"Okay?" Wayne asks.

"Huh? Oh, yeah." Eddie's smile doesn't fall from his face.

He doesn't want to interfere, ask too much, not when he's sure things are still young. Instead, he asks, "What'd you say to ordering a pizza?"

And Eddie, heedless of Wayne's question, says,"you know. I've been thinking about maybe staying here for a little longer."

And Wayne, his smile grows, and he claps a hand on his nephew's shoulder. "You're welcome here for as long as you want. Already consider it your home anyway."

[psychronia]

I've been rewatching Avatar: The Last Airbender because why not and I'm losing my mind at Zuko's proper introduction. I don't know if it's hindsight, shifting characterizations, or just me not watching this in a long time, but this was amazing.

We start off showing he's an impatient and very angry kid. Reasonable, and the sort of flaw we might expect to see in a villain. Kinda funny that he expects to go up against an adult and fully 4-Element realized Avatar, but the kid is desperate and Iroh clearly expects his nephew to get the banishment-denial kicked out of him.

What's important here, though, is Zuko's introduction to the Southern Water Tribe.

Here, we have a very intimidating entrance where his entire ship just sails through the ice right up to the village's front door. It's quite ominous and this is our first proper introduction to how the Fire Nation interacts with a foreign people.

Sokka charges, I'm assuming fully prepared to die, and Zuko casually knocks him out of the way. Okay, so clearly the Water Tribe are entirely outgunned.

He asks "Where are you hiding him?" and the people of the Water Tribe go silent. I assume they're either just too scared to talk or actually protecting Aang.

Whatever the case, it's important to note that the Southern Water Tribe know the terror the Fire Nation can inflict. We have a whole episode dedicated to tracking down a division of raiders. Sokka was able to not only identify the ash-mixed snow as signs of an incoming attack, but estimate how many ships the amount of ash measures to. These are a people who have experience being terrorized and are probably expecting something terrible to happen.

And then, after they don't answer, Zuko grabs Gran-Gran. There was a horror sting to it, and everything the tribe knows about the Fire Nation suggests that Zuko is about to threaten or straight up hurt her to get answers. Classic "terrorize the elderly" bad guy stuff.

And then...

He goes "He's (the Avatar) be about this age and is a master of all four elements!?" and lets her go.

And all of a sudden, the tension that was built up is shattered as Zuko went "I know, I'll give them a reference for the person I'm looking for because clearly they're confused and I wasn't specific enough."

This went from a show of villainy to a show of Zuko being totally socially awkward and misreading the situation entirely. Not helping is that when he does try to menace them a moment later, his fire is slow and angled quite safely.

It still worked on the Water Tribe because they're understandably scared, but all I could think of is that this was the equivalent of a playground bully trying to make someone flinch with that fake-out lunge thing.

Because the fact-and something we'll come to learn-is that Zuko is TERRIBLE at being a Fire Nation oppressor. He's capable of doing morally dubious things and is a competent fighter. But he's lousy at terrorizing people and cruelty-that's kind of the point of his banishment.

And while we can see the story paint this picture of Zuko's true character as the story goes on with hints of good and conflicting loyalties, here we get to see just how bad he is at being "the bad guys". He's still unambiguously being the villain of this scene, and it makes no real difference to the oppressed themselves, but there is a comical gap between where Zuko thinks he is, where he actually is, and somehow it still puts him on the same page as his victims just because of how terrible the Fire Nation's influence is on everyone involved.

[flamingpudding]

Glitterbombs for rogues

A/N: I got sick over the holidays. So I did not do any of the writing I originally wanted to do. So instead of that Christmas Story you get this Mark Rober inspired little tidbit.

Tim had a new favorite Engineer Youtube. The boy was a bit younger than him but a genius Engineer judging by the hand full of videos Tim had marathoned through. According to the listed self-introduction part of the video, Danny was currently an engineering student in Gotham with the goal to work one day for NASA. (Tim held out some hopes that he maybe could snag the kid for WE if possible. He had already sent out an internship offer after the third video he had watched)

Either way, Danny had potential and ideas that borderlined on mad science. But made his videos of his little projects even more entertaining and interesting to watch. Tim's favorite so far was Danny's explanation on how he reconstructed his toaster so that it would launch itself into space after the third his roommate burned toast with it. He did buy his roommate a new toaster at the end of the video though.

Still Tim liked this guy and his videos. So with anticipation he clicked on one of the newer videos. The title having caught his attention: 'Why Glitter'.

Instead of the usual introduction bit with little highlights of Danny's previous project the video started out with a big fat warning in red letter to not attempt to replicate anything in the video. That had Tim very curious already, but then a little video clip following that had Tim spitting out the coffee he was just sipping from.

Thankfully he missed spitting on his phone, still he jumped out of his cozy bed where he had been watching YouTube on his phone and hurried over to his laptop. The video, meanwhile, was continuing playing. He could hear the usual music from the introduction part as well as Danny's voice explaining his reasosn -which were valid, Tim had to agree with some of them- once that part was done.

By now he had fired up his laptop and was researching. The video in the background was explaining how Danny had build his Glitterbombs similar to the once another youtuber had but slightly modified them since he was not going to use fart-spray. Tim eyes widened as he found the first correlating news articles, wondering how they hadn't seen them sooner, but a glance at the date revealed that they were only posted a couple of hours ago.

Danny in the video was no explaining about his fist chooses victim and Tim dived onto his bed from his desk to get his phone back in his hands. Wide eyed, he watched as Danny obviously with a GoPro strapped to his head, crawled through what looked like an air vent. Once he reached an opening he looked through the slits into what appeared to be Riddlers hide out. Danny took the Camara of his head so that he could grin into it making the sign for silence as he barely contained his own chuckles. The other then waited for a moment, the camera work now getting wonky and the video even glitching out but a second later Danny was back in focuse before pointing down and then directing the Camara to his view. There in Riddlers hideout now sat Danny's self engineered glitterbomb.

"No he didn't..." Tim muttered as the video cut to a different scene. Danny was now walking through the sewers, humming cheerfully while explaining why he chose who he choose.

Another cut and... Tim spluttered. How the hell did Danny manage to just walk into Arkam?! So he hadn't seen wrong at the beginning of the video.

Growing paller with every cut on how Danny delivered his self-engineered Glitter bombs, Tim started to fear for his new favorite youtubers safety. Thankfully he had already done his work on Danny's person when he sent the internship offer. Now he just needed to get Danny to freaking safty.

He dragged himself to his laptop still in disbelieve as various clips of the rogues getting glitterbombed from the bombs perspective started playing. And yep, he definitely didn't see wrong now in the beginning. The Joker was one of Danny's chooses victums. Aside from the fact that he was so going to download and save that video for eternity as well as share it with his brothers and friends, (because as funny as it was that most of them were Gotham rogues, Luther and another millionaire by the name of Masters had also been made victims.), he still had to figure out how to ensure this definitely insane youtubers safer from the warmth of 90% of their rogues now.

Great newly discovered favorite youtuber has just painted a big fat red target on himself.

Tim was just about to call everyone in when a bonus at the end of Danny's video started to play.

He recognized that safe house.

He recognizes the weapons displayed on the walls also.

Oh... that's...

Still laughing Tim still sent out a message to everyone. When asked why all he did was sent them the link to the video with to timestamps.

The first one of the Joker getting glitterbombed

The second one being Red Hood getting glitterbombed.

[dimepdf]

★  𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇-𝐀, 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇-𝐀, 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐌𝐄. + 𝐌𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐋 𝐎'𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀

masterlist. / taglist. / tip jar. synopsis. no matter how many times you try to convince yourself that Miguel is the bane of your existence, the way you react during training proves otherwise.

─── ☆ notes. i need fics of miguel being an absolute dick, like a petty bitch just for the hell of it i need more attitude yk? Like if that man isn't calling me a slut it ain't canon! | — feedback is always welcomed & don't forget to reblog 🤍

─── ☆ length. 4.3k (33 min read).

─── ☆ genre and warnings. +18 nsfw under the cut. minors dni | no spoilers | smut, enemies to lovers, maybe mutual pining, fighting and violence, semi public sex, gym sex, mentions of abuse, size difference, pain kink, strength kink, degradation kink, manhandling, power play(?), begging, rough sex, cervix kissing, choking, fangs, biting, marking, cunnilingus, eye contact, hair pulling, creampie, open ended, not an taiyo fic without a few typos.

IF YOU ASKED any of the other Spider-men what they loved so much about being Spider-Man, their answers would all be the same, ranging from "the suit" to "the enhanced abilities." It was a no-brainer that being a superhero came with a few awesome perks.

Which was why your answer was just a bit confusing, "the combat." You would always smile, despite the many eyebrows raises and looks that convinced you you had to be some type of overcover masochist, especially since you would never really go into true detail about why.

Your reasoning behind putting on the mask was similar to all the others: another traumatized kid being thrown into a whole new reality that you never would have dreamed of being possible.

Sadly, you had been raised with the loss of most of your loved ones, and your family was in shambles from the abuse you would go through from them. It was the reason why it was difficult for you to grow up and make many friends, let alone navigate your abilities on your own accord, which was why it was a whole different ball game when you first joined the spider society.

When you first met Miguel O'Hara, you thought he was an overly intimidating man with an even more scary personality. Your aesthetics and morals would clash in the first few run-ins you would have with him.

In all honesty, you first thought him to be a massive dick who surprisingly needed more therapy than you did. From his bored expression to his unnerving glare, it was clear upon the first introduction that you two just would not get along.

Which was why the universe made him the only spider person willing and with enough free time to train you. It came as a surprise to you both, who are usually butting heads. Miguel was adamant about not wanting to waste his time training some little girl who didn't even know how to throw a punch.

With much shit-talking on your part and a lot of teasing claims of him being afraid that you were going to kick your ass, training had quite literally started in full swing.

It was probably a bad move on your part to push the buttons of the guy who was teaching you how to fight. Miguel was clear with his fight-style techniques. He was nimble with his limbs and swift on his feet. It was hard for anyone to get a hit on him, especially since he wasn't the type to hold back his punches. 

His teaching style was the same: your sessions included throwing you around as if you were some ragdoll and picking you up as if you weighed nothing, just to slam you into the ground with full bruising force.

There would be some very rare occasions when you would manage to get the upper hand on him. Miguel was about a foot taller than you, not to mention how pathetically compressed you looked standing next to him. You learned that the only way you could manage to get the upper hand was by using your size difference to your advantage.

All the sessions you won were hosted by you managing to tangle yourself from his claws and climb his towering figure into a headlock, praying that you had enough strength in your legs to make him tap out.

"How is she not dead yet?" Miles would mutter, looking concerned, as he stood from the sidelines of the training room, watching one of your sessions, as the blonde by his side didn't even wince at the sound of Miguel untangling you from the headlock you had him in.

His arms moved faster than you could process as he managed to loosen your hold enough to slam the air from your lungs as you fell back facing against the mat so hard that even Miles was convinced he could feel the blow in the lower spine.

"I mean, at this point, I'm kind of convinced she’s turned into his personal punching bag." Miles strains to watch Miguel not even wipe a sweat as he sprung back on his feet. He stretched out his full body, towering over you, curled flat against the mat, trying to collect your breathing as well as your broken ego.

Gwen nodded in agreement. "I don't even know how someone could hit someone so...squishy? She’s just so cute." She muttered, watching with her arms crossed. 

"This punching bag needs to learn that in the real world, people aren't going to go as easy on her just because she’s cute." Miguel, despite glaring at the two bystanders, leaned down and yanked you back onto your stumbling feet. 

Your fingers combed through the matted curls now drenched in sweat away from your forehead, using your water break as the perfect excuse to help cover up the reaction to the sudden compliment that came from his lips and the way he had made you feel.

"And her being my personal punching bag is completely at her fault, if you want to learn how to fight, you have to learn how to take a few punches." You couldn't help but roll your eyes and wave your hand out in annoyance at another one of Miguel O’Hara’s famous lectures.

"I’m not a punching bag, did you not see the hold I had on him early?" You huffed, almost choking on your water, trying to protest. Gwen humored your claim, the blonde reaching out and rubbing your shoulder out of support as you continued with your defense. "Any tighter, and I would have easily snapped his neck."

Of course, Miguel only smirked as you continued grasping at straws at the point of trying to prove to your friends your improvement, his eyes flitting back and forth at the exchange, expressionless at the sight of you managing to still joke around as if you weren't about to pass out from fatigue at any second.

"And was that before or after the part where I kicked your ass, little girl?" He shot out, chipping away at the final lock that held back your annoyance, you hadn't even had time to process the insult before he bumped his shoulder into you on his way out of the training room.

His rude exit enticed a round of reactions from Miles and Gwen trying their awkward best to comfort the boiling pot of anger they saw written all over your face, rolling your eyes, you pushed past the two, not without grumbling a string of insults in Miguel’s name to the washrooms.

You blessed the spider lords for somehow having the ability to shower under running water, let alone the unexplainable strange amount of amenities that the spider society dimensions had. 

Like a web shooter's wonderland, you quickly shed the sweating clothes you trained in and stepped foot into the cold cubicle shower booth, letting the water run for a bit until enough steam fogged clouded stepping under the stream. Even with the hot water splashing pressure against your aching muscles, no amount of water could manage to wash away the annoying feeling in your legs. 

It was enough of a jab at your pride to even find Miguel attractive in the first place, and here your body was betraying you once more, begging, throbbing desperately for his every touch in its every form, and having the nerve to grow more intense during your training.

The feeling had yet to fully disappear the next day, even with your session starting off with you fueled from yesterday's comments. You tried pushing the feeling as you were just ready to have Miguel mutter another word insult with the ass kick you were ready to give him. It was the only possible explanation for why you were so jittery about getting to training on time.

"It took you long enough." Was the first thing you heard Miguel announce throughout the empty room.

He wasn’t wearing his suit—neither of you did while training—instead, he was wearing dark gray sweatpants paired with some random dark red graphic shirt that fit him a bit too snuggly to leave room for imagination around his arms.

"Almost thought you were gonna skip out."

You were aware enough to spot this quick observation of your outfit as well. Keeping it casual and opting for better mobility, you shimmied yourself into plain Nike shorts that stopped higher up than you had expected them to on your thighs with a loose tank top that peeked out the straps of your sports bra.

Nothing about your clothes screamed attention grabbing—at least that's what you thought before you caught Miguel’s red-tinted stare on the way your shorts hugged your thighs.

He glanced away, muttering something in Spanish you couldn't quite translate the moment your fingers fidgeted with the bottom hems of the shorts, tugging them slightly more down while deciding to break the tense silence that had managed to sneak up on you. "So what are we doing today?"

"Huh, I’ve been thinking." He answered, followed by the clearing of his throat, "We try something a little different." You could never get used to the roughness of his voice or the way he spoke with so much arrogance that it reminded just about everyone that he thought he was better than just about everyone.

Even now that you stepped towards the middle of the mat, standing rigidly just a few paces away from him, you could tell from that stupid, cocky expression as he stood looking down at you that there was no possible way that he would ever see you as a real threat. "I want you to try to hit me." 

Your brows creased together in confusion. 

"What?" was all you asked, which seemed to be the wrong question to ask as Miguel stretched out a sigh from his mouth, his hands coming close to his to pinch the bridge of his nose. 

"I said hit me." He speaks more slowly, making sure to mockingly over pronounce every symbol in every word as if you were a child. "Preferably soon and as hard as you can." A grimace finds itself twisting on your lips before you can even process your bubbling annoyance. Your body moved on autopilot because of your keen senses, jumping over the swing of his left leg with ease.

You couldn't say that swift grace stuck with your attempt at a counterattack. Bending your knee just enough to reach out and kick, you were only met with the bottom of your foot stomping flat against the floor mat and Miguel dodging your kick, standing just a few paces away. "Too predictable," he scolded in that annoyingly deep voice you hated oh so much and totally did not turn on you at all. You sprung yourself up by the heels of your feet and charged at him with full determination to land at least one punch on his stupidly chiseled, handsome face.

It had been your second mistake, giving him too much time to brace himself. Already regretting your emotionally impulsive start, resulting in the punch you swung being easily deflected by Miguel.

His hand wrapped entirely around your wrist, bending your arm almost out of your socket and kicking the back of your knee to the mat with his heel. You feel down to a kneel with a hissing pain in your arm threatening to get worse at any wrong twist.

"Lose that fucking attitude, or you’ll get sloppy." As if your body could radiate any more anger, you knew he was just trying to push your buttons, trying to throw you off your game with smack talk that was not working on you or anything.

"Again," he prompted, letting your arm go and stepping back, egging on another attack from you.

"Give me a damn minute." No matter how much you wanted to snap back at him with something snarky, you knew it would only prove his point entirely—not only that but also the fact that he was mentally hitting you in all the places that he knew counted the most to throw you off your game. 

Biting back the insult you already had threatened to slip from your tongue instead of making a point by rolling your eyes as you stumbled back to your feet. Rolling your sore shoulder back as your eyes scan over his stance, trying to find the best opening for a better attack, you steady your breath and cloud your mind in thought. "You aren't going to get anywhere but dead standing around like that, you know."

So much for wanting to consider your options. Miguel took the first swing at you and was on the verge of kicking you on your ass if it weren't for your shoddy dodge.

"Didn't you just say I had to be less fucking predictable?" You snarled, lifting your foot with most of your weight pointed in the direction of his jaw. Surprisingly, the kick landed just not in the place you wanted it to; instead, Miguel’s arm blocked the blow, much to your annoyance.

"I also said—" All he was doing was using dodging moves on you, swiping your other foot from under you as he held the other one that you kicked up in his arm, resulting in you landing once again flat on your ass. "to lose that fucking attitude."

You had not gone down without a fight, twisting and kicking, trying to wrestle your limbs free by any means. Miguel had almost embarrassingly quickly ceased your squirming, his palm cuffing your arms and pressing hard against your chest as his other hand pressed tightly into your thighs, folding your legs in place under his hips.

The position was interesting, to say the least, but you still had some fight in you, wiggling against his grip with any strength you had left to break free. It was a useless battle, but the man had his grip around you tight as well as an overpowering size difference that blanketed your entire figure like one big rock.

And that's how you caught yourself in another web of misfortune. Your nerves are surging at the feeling of something—him brushing against your calf. Maybe it was all the adrenaline pumping through your veins or the fact that you were practically being manhandled so easily that did another thing to your body, or maybe it was just pure horny instability that your brain couldn't even process the lewd whine that tugged from your throat after the fact that it had happened.

Watching in pure horror as Miguel loomed on top of you, his mouth slightly agape as his chest heaved and his brows pulled together, the embarrassment from his confused, almost offended looking expression hit you fast. Here your body was betraying you once more, this time going absolutely haywire and melting like a stupid pile of putty at the fact that you were being body pressed against some mat with some guy's hard junk pressed into your leg.

You couldn't bear to even look him in the eye anymore, your head tilting to the side, pressing your cheek into the mat, and squeezing your eyes closed, not suddenly envying the spidermen with teleportation powers. "Fucking Christ, can you get off now?"

A beat of silence hovered between the small distance between you two, neither moving nor talking. It was starting to become unbearable how tightly Miguel had folded your legs against him, in the sense that you could already feel his body heat radiating. The close proximity did not help with how unbearably your heart was beating against your chest. "How do you manage after all of that to still have that shameless fucking attitude?"

You stilled at how his voice had managed to cut through your own thick cloud of betraying thoughts as well as the ringing in your eardrums. "Shameless? As if you don't have your dick pressed against me right now."

"By the sounds of it, you don't seem that bothered at all." Miguel taunted, You thought you were bound to die of embarrassment.

Yeah, this is how you went out—by dying from the sheer effect of your own extremely horny though—not some overpowered supervillain with a vendetta against you but Miguel O'Hara and his dick print.

You could already hear the new taunts that he would use against you, "Not even in your fucking dreams." being the only comeback that you could muster, your limbs tingling with slight pins and needles, threatening to go stiff under his unbound grasp. 

"Oh, like you wouldn't love to," he sneered, shifting the weight from his hips flat against your thighs. "Probably thinking about me taking off these tight fucking shorts and having my way with you?" Your body reacted first to the accusation, cursing under your breath as you felt your second heartbeat flutter in between your legs.

His lingering stare hadn't helped one bit, and you watched from the sidelines as his eyes raked over your body with interest.

"I bet this was your plan the entire fucking time, huh?" He asked, leaning in as the distance dwindled until you could feel the brush of his breath against your face. "Put on some sweet naive act in front of everyone, knowing that you're getting yourself off on me throwing you around, touching yourself like some bitch in heat."

You hadn't bothered covering the whine that parted from your lips at the feeling of his erection slowly rutting against your thigh, the cocky smirk on his lips wanting you to melt away against the mat.

Miguel practically growled at the pathetic sounds that parted from your lips, tugging your legs apart to rut his hips down against your core. You shivered at the intrusion of his bulge pressed against your eagerness, the foreign feeling of him grinding against you left your thoughts in a dizzy fog.

"What? Can’t fucking speak now," he said as if he were dangling your most prized possession in front of your face, his fingers creeping into dangerous territory, making it a point for his fingertips to drag down your lower torso only to halt right above the elastic waistband of your shorts. "Go on, use your words."

"...fuck you."

The small amount of distance made the space between you two fall tensely thick, and the words spoken from your lips were different from the feelings that made your heart thud against your ribs. You weren't stupid, you knew Miguel could sense it, he could sense just about everything about your body from how close he kneeled on top of you.

Maybe that was why he had closed the distance so quickly after, letting the tight grip around your wrists give way to his hand finding a new objective, wrapping his fingers around your neck, not bothering to be gentle as he guided your lips towards his. The kiss was as rough as you had dreamed it to be. Eager for each other's kiss, you couldn't even process the noise that vibrated sharply from your throat before Miguel could pull away first, leaving you panting for more of his touch.

"First time I've ever seen you so quiet," his deep taunts were starting to grow unbearable, shifting your hips at the brush of his fangs against the jugular of your neck with every word, "who knew all you needed was some dick?" The harsh kisses he left trailing down to your collarbone made you feel like a hot, needy mess of putty. If it weren't for the tight grasp he had on your body, you were convinced that you would feel like you'd melt into some type of puddle. The growing frustration had only started to build up more as Miguel let go of your thighs, his hand trailing between your legs ruthlessly as the bud of his fingers rubbed against your clothed pussy. 

As for why you shifted your hips up and let him impatiently tug and yank at the bow knotted around the waist of your shorts, breaking away from the red splotching light bruises already forming against your brown skin and wiggling you out of your shorts, Miguel thought it was quite the image, his eyes were fixated on the drooling sight of you under him, so vulnerable with your thighs hugging to your chest, spread open, revealing yourself in your pants.

All sanity was thrown out the window the moment he tugged you closer by your knees, your lower half lifted in his arms just enough for him to sit face to face with your cunt. His eyes darkened, his pupils blown as his tongue lapped over his lips, leaving you feeling restless. It was a slow and almost painful battle of trying to reach down and shove his face closer or buck your hips as his fingers sheathed and explored themselves against the fabric of your underwear.

As if Miguel could read your mind, his fingers hooked the fabric under the bend of his finger, followed by a quick tearing sound. "I’ll get you new ones," the comfort emitting a whine from your throat as you couldn't even scowl at him for ruining your underwear because you were too busy admiring the work his fingers were doing. Without warning, Miguel leans in closer, the warmth of his mouth almost sending you into a frenzy as his fingers spread open your lips, his lips sucking at your clitoral area, prompting you to let out a very lewd moan.

"Too loud," Miguel mumbled against your pussy, too busy webbed up in your own pleasure to even notice how every embarrassedly sloppy wet noise had seemed to perfectly echo throughout the empty room. You couldn't even explain the number of emotions that were flowing through you, from shame from being tongue fucked and fingered against the floor about the one man you hated so much to bashfulness from holding eye contact with him as he lay between your legs and ate your pussy like he was starving for you.

"I can't help it," you whined, shivering at the string of spit that contacted Miguel as he lifted his head in an idea. It took a second to process Miguel picking you up and turning you on your stomach, his hands guiding your hips up and stripping your torn panties down your legs to stuff them in your mouth.

Without a word, Miguel grabbed your ass with another hand, guiding your lower back into an arch as the other made small indents from his nail bearing into your cheeks as he spread them apart.

Before you could even feel embarrassed at the new position, he shoved his face between them, your moan being muffled by your makeshift cloth gag that worked a bit too well in lowering your whines as Miguel’s mouth sought his tongue out for your pussy once more.

"You're close I can smell it," you almost missed Miguel's groan over your building ecstasy, "just let it go, baby, let me take care of you. That's what you want, right?" His voice is drastically different from his usual rough, rude tone, softened to something of a coo that has managed to unknot your pleasure with his tongue. Your body tensed against his mouth for a moment as he had the nerve to suck his fingers clean. No grace period was given before he could lift you once more with a grunt, laying you flat on your back.

Slotting himself back between his legs, Miguel chuckled at the dazed look on your face. "It's alright, baby, I can take it from here." taking the balled up drool covered panties from your mouth and instead replaced them with his lips. The sensual change of pace wasn't enough to stop the shiver that rid your nerves of the feeling of his bare cock rutting against your slit, using his thumb to spread your lips apart to sink his tip inside of you with a low hiss against your mouth.

A gasp left yours as his girthy length intruded deeper inside of you, the burying stretch of his dick having your nails roughly grasping at the nape neck of his hair tugging a handful as his pace hadn't bothered to even get familiar already. Miguel’s hips weren't letting out as he fucked you almost animalistic against the floor. You were convinced he was trying to fuck you into the mat, to be one with the floor, which would perfectly explain the rough pace that left you breathless with each piston of his hips. 

The graphically lewd sounds of your weak groans were nothing compared to the pornographic sound of your skin meeting his, your brain empty with nothing but greed, wanting to take everything and more of what Miguel was giving you. His fingers reach to unwrap your fingers tangled in his hair to intertwine them in his. "That's it, mama, that's it," he whispers against the shell of your ear, earning a whimpering reply from you, almost close to spilling the tears clouding your waterline.

Your mind couldn't process anything other than how good Miguel’s dick felt being shoved inside of you, his cock dragging against your tight, flustering walls with each shaky breath brushed against your ear. Your cunt seemed to react to Miguel’s lashes tickling against your neck as his eyes screwed tightly shut, muttering a string of compliments in his mother tongue.

You weren't lucky enough to be more stable, surprised that your throat hasn't gone horse with how ruined your vocal cords sounded in the pace of his pistoning hips. Only going up an octave higher as one of Miguel’s hands reaches down to pay attention to your clit, he doesn't stop even when your limbs start to tremble from your climax. 

With one last hard thrust, he finally stills, your name being the only thing you could make out through his mumbling as his unfamiliar warm sensation welcomed itself inside of you. 

Groaning right in your ear, he cums inside of you with his entire dead weight pressed against you, caging you against the floor. "Alright," Miguel sighs, settling on top of you once more with his arms holding himself just a few inches away from your face. "Again."

🔖 @adonis-is-dead-lmaoo @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @inumakiiz @iheartlinds @creamyarishi @marzipaanz

tap here to be added to taglist.

[oh-no-its-bird]

Team 7 gets zapped into the warring states era but it's like, team 7 either mid or directly after wave-arc.

They're babies!! They're untrained little babies!!! None of them have gotten that good good character development yet!! Kakashi is still actively desperately wanting to not teach them!! (tho he may have just gotten his "ahh fuck. I actually have to teach them, huh." Moment)

Sasuke looks like a carbon copy of a younger Izuna and it's going to cause problems

Naruto thankfully doesn't look much like an Uzumaki, but his tendency to very loudly introduce himself is going to get him into trouble

Going w my usual flavor of "the Hatake are a very small but very famous clan known for being fucking insane", people are seeing Kakashi and going "oh god oh fuck what are one of THOSE guys doing here oh sage preserve us please don't eat me" as Kakashi just kinda stands there like 🧍‍♂️

Sakura is the only one safe from not being fucked up and over her clan, good for her!

-> back to the Hatake thing.

The kids still know virtually nothing about their sensei so they're learning all this stuff about his clan and believing every word of it, from the believable rumors to the insane.

Sakura, in a hushed, worried voice: "Sensei,, is it true ur clan eats people??"

Kakashi, who's father died before he could tell him almost anything about their clan and genuinely doesn't know but at this point is starting to get a little worried about it:

Kakashi, who also never passes up the opportunity to fuck with someone: "only stupid little students who ask stupid little questions <3"

Sakura and Sasuke: *worriedly look at a confused Naruto*

For convoluted reasons they run into the Hatake of the era and after introductions they look at the kids and are like,

"Oh!!! Ok, so this is your kid, right? :)" pointing at Sakura.

And Kakashi is like. ",,no."

"Ohhh, ok. So this one is your kid then?" *points at Naruto*

",,,,,,,,no."

They look at him confused then nod at Sasuke. "So then that one's your kid, right?"

"None of them are my children."

*visibly disapproving / disbelieving side eye*

One big difference between this and the team ro time travel one is how much less trustworthy Kakashi comes off to literally everyone who looks at him.

He's a trained adult shinobi, probable bloodline thief (with no way to prove his innocence), and he has 3 children from 3 different clans (2 of which are indirectly enemies bc the Uzumaki is a Senju ally) (1 of which might have a direct relation to the Uchiha main house) and comes from an infamously volatile "wild clan" from another country entirely (Iron country)

He is NOT getting out of this with talk no jutsu bullshit. He has a target on his back from day 1 and it will take a minor miracle to get even a single person hear him out

Anyways uhh—

Saying Tajima and Butsuma are still alive but due to die in some months (till team 7 accidentally interfere and somehow accidentally save Tajima, maybe also Butsuma but I'm more biased towards Tajima so I'm thinking just him actually)

Kakashi sees baby Kagami and feels like he's been hit by a truck bc he looks just like a miniature Shisui and he has hang-ups about his "suicide"

Half-Hatake Tobirama is catching HEAT from Kakashi's antics. Why does one of ur cousins have a sharingan. Where did he get those children. Do you know anything about this. Is it your duty to help hunt him down bc hes your blood. If not yours then it's definatley the Hatake's, call them immediately and tell them to clean up their mess.

Bloodline theft is like THE ultimate no-no for all shinobi, especially in this era. To the point that even ancient enemies will sometimes temporarily set aside grudges to kill bloodline theives. Kakashi is so fucked, someone get him out of there

Mmmm there are like still bits and pieces of thoughts floating around in my head for this but I can feel myself getting distracted and want to get back to art fight so I'll leave it here for now

[thevoidstaredback]

How To Balance Your Daytime and Nighttime Activities So That You Don't Burn Yourself Out More Than You Already Have

Preparations, Danny soon realized, were very much useless. He'd spend a while just watching the vigilante, recording his habits and schedule, following him around and taking note of the little details. Call him a stalker, but he was just trying to make sure Nightwing didn't end up in an early grave.

Not like him.

Any and all preparations Danny had made could not ever fully gear him up for actually talking to the only vigilante he'd ever met. Sure, he knew the guy from afar, but actually speaking to him? Looking him in the eye? Having the other look back at him and actually respond? The closest he'd ever gotten to letting the guy know he was there was when he left food out for him and made sure he had water, sometimes coffee, within reach at all times.

Now that Danny was here, standing in front of the door to Nightwing's - Richard Grayson, he'd learned on day three - apartment, he was frozen. Was he actually about to do this? Could he really risk it? What if Nightwing flipped out?

No. He couldn't think like that. Nightwing's a vigilante, a detective, and an officer of the law. He won't attack willy nilly. Besides, it was too late to turn back now. Danny knew way too much about Nightwing's life to back off now.

Not allowing himself to hesitate any longer, he reached up and pressed the doorbell. He didn't hear the sound, but shuffling from inside alerted him that the man he'd come to see was now moving towards him.

'I hope this goes well,' Danny thought. Then, the door opened. "Good, at least you're taking care of yourself and actually eating proper foods. Now, I'm here to discuss your extracurriculars and how to time manage them properly without running yourself into the ground." He didn't mean to enter the apartment uninvited, but he didn't want to risk Nightwing closing the door on him or something. "I've brought my own board with an ideal itinerary that I expect you to follow." He turned to look at the man. "Any questions?"

Nightwing rook a second to process the words. Then, he said, "Yeah, just one: Who the fuck are you, kid?"

Well, he was in this deep, might as well dig himself a deeper grave. "I would say I'm your new legal guardian, but you're older than me and I can't exactly adopt a fully grown adult." Right? Yeah. Danny sat down stiffly, his bag on the floor and leaning against his leg. He pulled out the binder he'd cleared out and dedicated to helping the older vigilante and put it on the table. "I could say that you're my new legal guardian, but we run into a similar problem." Kind of. Being dead is a legal barrier, so adoption's off the table. Transferred custody on the other hand? Well, he's got that taken care of. Though, he had to wonder, "Could you adopt me?" No, he couldn't think of a way that would work. "No matter."

Nightwing, still standing by the open door, shook his head a bit as if to clear his mind. "I'm sorry, who are you?"

Introductions? Yikes. "I'm Danny! Nice to meet you!" He had no idea how he's not completely bombed this yet, but he wasn't going to complain.

Nightwing didn't move from the door, let alone shake his hand. Danny put it back on his lap. "Likewise, I guess."

"What, no name?" Was that pushing it?

"I'm optimistic, not an idiot." Yeah, he'd towed the line a bit.

Shrugging to try and rid himself of the nervous butterflies in his stomach, Danny opened the binder to the front page. It was mostly so he'd have something to do with his hands, but it proved to be a decent distraction for Nightwing, too. Though, he pushed down a blush when he saw the glittery blue writing. It was the only other pen he had on him and he'd stolen it from Jazz.

The distraction didn't last. "How did you find this place?" Nightwing asked, the door still wide open.

"Doesn't matter." He didn't think the vigilante would take kindly to being stalked followed around the subject of a kid's curiosity.

Nightwing very much did not seem to believe him. "Why do you think I have a day job and a night job?"

Did he- Oh. The man was probably holding out some kind of hope that Danny wasn't saying what he was saying. Oops. Should he apologise? "I'm a realist, not an idiot."

Throwing the words back at him was probably not the best decision. Then, again, Danny hadn't made a whole lot of good decisions since he'd stepped foot in Bludhaven. At least here, there was a chance he could get away with it, relatively scot free. Imagine if he were in Gotham? With how violent Batman got recently? No thank you. He'd rather take his chances with his parents.

Danny did his best to not clear his throat as he flipped to the next page. "First thing's first. Why do you do what you do? Why go out at night to fight crime when, I assume, that's what your day job is for? Why hurt yourself to help other people?"

Those were all questions he'd had to ask himself before the portal destabilized. Why did he do what he does? Why risk himself to help the people who'd never thank him for his help? Why put his life on hold to do the job of adults?

He'd thought he'd had solid answers for them back then, but he wasn't so sure anymore. Regardless, this was a good place as any to start helping Nightwing.

If he could help just this one person, he'd be satisfied.

Part 3 Part 5

Tag List: @flame-343

[jungle-angel]

Four Generations (Bob Floyd x Reader)

Summary: Imagine everybody's surprise when four generations of Floyd men suddenly show up at the base one day and Jake's shock that Bob has a wife

Warnings: Pregnancy, parenthood, the Floyd men definitely fuck, Bob's mom is a MILF etc.

Tagging: @floydsmuse @floydsglasses @withahappyrefrain @rhettabbotts @callmemana @attapullman

"Dumbest training exercise ever!" Natasha groaned.

"And of course this is where our fuckin taxpayer dollars are going," Rooster complained.

"At least it's over and we can go home," Hangman told them.

"Yo guys, check this out," Coyote said suddenly.

The sight of two older men making their way up the tarmac with a small, bespectacled child came into view. Beside them was a very obviously pregnant young lady, no doubt the mother of the child that one of the men carried.

"Who the hell are they?" Natasha wondered.

"Beats me," Rooster answered. "Maybe somebody's relatives?"

The four of them caught sight of Bob, still in his flight suit, hurrying to meet them. The younger of the two men set the small child right down on the ground, the little guy running right to Bob who scooped him up and threw him into a fit of giggling.

"No.......fucking.......way......." Hangman chuckled.

"So does that mean.......?"

"Yep," Natasha laughed.

Bob soon made his way over with the small group, smiling at the bemused faces of his fellow pilots. "Ya'll look confused," he said to them.

"I just.......we didn't think that......" Coyote stammered.

"What?" Bob chuckled. "That it was just me?"

The sheepish looks on their faces said it all.

"Well," Bob said. "Maybe this is the time for introductions. This is my dad, my grandpa and my lovely, lovely wife (y/n). And this little guy, is August Robert."

The four pilots were surprised to say the least, Bob's father and grandfather? A wife and kids? Bob had never talked about any of them before.

As soon as the day was done, everyone had met at The Hard Deck for dinner and a beer. Getting to know each other had been interesting to say the least.

"You Goose's kid?" Joe Floyd asked him.

"Yes sir," Rooster replied.

"I used to fly with your old man," Joe explained. "Flew with Mav and Iceman and all the rest of'em, callsign 'was 'Rabbit'."

"Why'd they call you Rabbit?" Natasha asked.

"Take a guess," Bob chuckled, munching on his fries.

"Bob's Ma and I already had a mess of kids by the time I was stationed out here," Joe explained. "I'd get back from a deployment and the next thing I knew, she'd tell me she was pregnant. Starting to think the boy's taking after me."

Everyone laughed but Bob was blushing with embarrassment. "How many siblings does he have?" Natasha asked.

"Eight," Joe said with a shit eating grin. "Four boys, four girls. Bob's the youngest."

"Jeez Bob!" Hangman exclaimed.

"Oh that's nothing," (y/n) told him. "Lowell, which one is Joe again?"

"Seventh of thirteen," Lowell answered with a laugh.

"WOAH!!!"

"Jeez!"

"Holy shit!"

"Yep, his Ma and I had thirteen," Lowell laughed.

A woman walked into the bar, catching the eyes of the Daggers, her white sundress swishing against her knees and a denim jacket tied around her waist. Joe got up to meet her, placing a chaste kiss right on her lips.

Coyote was the next to get up, asking to see Bob in private for a minute. The two of them slipped into the men's room where hopefully no one would hear them.

"Dude ya'll didn't tell me your mom was a MILF!!!" he whispered sharply.

"And why would I tell you that?" Bob questioned.

"Bro ya'll could've warned us!" Coyote told him. "I was not expecting to get half a stiff at the dinner table when she walked in."

"AW FUCK! WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?!" Bob exclaimed.

"I'm sorry dude."

"Man that's my mom!!!!" Bob groaned in disgust. "You're a sick motherfucker Javy."

************************

When everyone had finished and were heading home for the night, you and Bob buckled Auggie into his little carseat and made your way home.

"Did he really?" you asked when Bob told you about the bathroom conversation.

"Oh yeah, it was pretty gross," Bob chuckled.

You laughed. "I know your mom well enough," you told him. "She's sweet and innocent and all, but man. I remember when you and I got married and she gave me so much info that I thought she was Stifler's Mom."

You and Bob laughed the whole way home, Auggie still asleep in the back and your unborn son kicking away in your belly. You were glad to have met the rest of the Daggers, hoping with all hope that the family bonds would deepen and become unbreakable.

[itshype]

Like and Survive! (DC x DP)

Everyone knows who Phantom is. He was one of the very first heroes though he inexplicably chose to dedicate his life (metaphorically) to micromanaging the hell out of some random town no one has ever heard of. He's a specialist hero, only really useful for ghost stuff. He comes every time someone contacts him for help but it's only happened a few times in all of his years of operation.

Then, kid heroes become a thing. Robin, once perpetually hidden beneath the shadow of the bat emerges into the metropolis sun just in time to make the front page.

When Batman's child-raising skills are called into question, Kid Flash is brought out at a press release by Flash to show that these exceptional children are around. They just aren't common knowledge for their own health (aside from the villains - being a child star wrecks your brain).

A few villains do come forward and say "no, the sidekicks will go out on their own if their hero doesn't let them. And they have all the powers and none of the restraint. Please don't separate them."

(Batman and Robin are both very flattered that all their rogues think they have powers. Robin is ✨glowing✨ with pride.)

Cyborg calls Robin at 3am. He asks if he's seen the new 'BooTube' page.

Phantom has set up his own website. It's a dark and moody ripoff of YouTube with 1 channel. His.

Introduction Video: Transcript Hi guys, I can't lie to you, I was as up-in-arms as anyone when I saw what people are now calling "The Robin Reveal". But then I remembered that I started my hero work when I was mentally and physically fourteen years old...

Danny doesn't mention he was also chronologically 14 at the time. Secret identities and all.

...and I had no mentor, no training and no backup. It was just me and two humans, neither of whom even had powers at that time. I understand the call, in a way that none of the non-hero people criticising you could ever hope to comprehend. I'm glad to see most of you fellow child-heroes have an experienced adult watching your back. But if you don't. If there's even one of you out there who need a mentor, consider Amity Park open for business, and consider adding my number to your speedial. I'm not like those people in interviews saying "Oh, someone needs to help the children!" I am helping you, I am helping you whenever you need with whatever you want.

The ghost swallows and seemingly forces down his brimming sincerity.

And for those of you who do already have backup? Consider checking back here. I'm going over my old reports from my first few years on the streets to see what I most needed to hear, and what I wished I knew sooner. Hopefully no one else will have to learn what I know the hard way.

You know how to fight, this channel won't be for that. This is about coping with secret identities, and the messed up situations that can only happen to a vigilante or hero.

Anyways, the first video is already ready to be edited so in a few days I'll be back here to discuss what you do when you've been cloned. How to deal with that emotionally and physically. My clone isn't very well known outside of my town but I think she'll add a great perspective!

Within weeks, without his knowledge, Danny is somehow remote-mentoring heroes of all ages.

[demonslayerunhinged]

Unhinged analysis - Sanemi

Why's Sanemi so aggro? (Part 1)

Sanemi is one of the most controversial characters in Demon Slayer and the most misunderstood, along with Obanai. People in the fandom just take him at face value, and it is a disservice to his character. You don't have to love him, but at least try to understand him, his background and how it all contributes to his behavior. So this is a character analysis on, in my opinion, the coolest motherfucker in Demon Slayer. Lesssgoooo!

His introduction

Sanemi's Hashira intro remains one of my favorite in the series. This is because we're fed so much information about him in such a short time.

The first thing we see are the W7s, the uniform belts around his shins, instead of the standard kyahan that other characters wear.

Then we see his back, his white haori which tells us nothing about his breathing style. At least with the others we can make an estimated guess at theirs. The only decoration is the kanji 殺(kill). Which is interesting because it's in the same position as the 滅(destroy) that we see on the backs of other slayer's uniforms.

Then we hear his voice for the first time. His speech is similar to that of a Yakuza member. I'll explain more later.

We then get the first glimpse of our man.

We notice a bunch of things. One is the fact that he's holding Nezuko's box with one hand, which tells us yea, this dude is strong as fuck. Then we see that his uniform is open at the chest, indicating a lack of care for his safety. We see the scars which lets us know that this guy has been through some shit, and he still keeps his chest open??? Nah.

Then we finally see his face and woah! The scary jagged scars, wild hair and bloodshot eyes combined with his rude way of speaking. We come to the conclusion: Oh my God! This guy's a crackhead!

Only kidding! But we can tell that this guy is not to be messed with and from the Jaws music that plays in the background and his signature Hashira theme, we also know that he's going to be trouble for our protagonist.

So let's break it down further with the first aspect of his introduction.

His haori, the kanjis, and their significance

Destruction has a certain impersonal feeling to it, like you destroy bad things not because you want to, but because you have to. Within the context of Demon Slayer, it's no different, the slayers have to destroy the demons because they are a blight on the world and there are no personal feelings about it. We can see it from the way Giyuu almost killed Nezuko, the way he killed Rui, the way Shinobu and Kanao almost killed Nezuko, and the way Zenitsu and Inosuke also killed demons.

Even in this episode where the Hashiras are introduced, their plans to execute Tanjiro and Nezuko show no personal feelings towards the situation, no maliciousness, and no hate. Nezuko is a demon she has to be killed. Tanjiro was harboring a demon so he has to be killed too and something tells me this isn't the first time they had to deal with a situation like this.

Kill, on the other hand, is very much personal and malicious in its intent. It doesn't matter if the target is bad for the world or not. What matters is that the killer thinks they're bad, and that alone is a justification to eliminate them. It's not about duty, it's a want spurred on by hatred, and Sanemi is full of hatred. We can see it from the sadistic way he stabs Nezuko, and the way he laughs at Tanjiro’s pain. Even when he wanted to test Nezuko with his blood, he gives her more unnecessary stabs instead of just simply opening the box.

Honestly, just by the kanji alone, I would’ve been surprised if he didn’t stab Nezuko. A demon can save baby orphans and kittens and sweet little old ladies from a burning building, and Sanemi will still gut the motherfucker.

Then there’s the color of his haori. The haoris, or absence of haoris, of the other characters (excluding Muichiro and Mitsuri) reveal information about their heritage, past, beliefs, and other aspects of their identity that extend beyond their role as Demon Slayers.

Sanemi has no heritage like Rengoku. We’re not given anything that tells us about his past like Giyuu. The kanji for Kill on his haori is in the same position as the Destroy on the standard uniform because, for Sanemi, being a Demon Slayer or more specifically a killer of demons IS his identity. It’s all he cares about, his entire life and the core of his existence. He has a one-track mind, and Kill Demons is the only song playing on a loop.

He doesn’t have time for anything he deems ‘frivolous’, has no special variation to his uniform aside from the fact that he keeps the chest open, and the uniform belts he wears around his legs are probably faster to put on than the standard kyahan.

So from his haori and kyahan alone we can tell that this guy is very strong, very wild and very dangerous.

Extra note: While doing research for this post, I also noticed that Sanemi’s haori is similar to the shirt he wore as a child, which could indicate how much his childhood affected him and how it led to his hatred of demons. Instead of the sleeve stripes, there is now the Kill kanji on the back.

Now let's move onto the other aspect of his introduction

His way of speaking

This part is based on my little understanding of the Japanese language and the research I did. So please don't attack me!

Sanemi kinda speaks like a thug or a Yakuza member. It isn't really noticeable in the English subtitles, but he uses particles and sentence endings that are typically used by men and can come across as rude, unrefined, and uneducated.

He doesn't use honorifics (unless speaking to the Master) when talking to people, even his fellow Hashiras.

He uses sentence endings such as ぜ (ze), ぞ (-zo), な (-na), か (-ka), かよ (-kayo) and だな (-da na) that make his questions and statements sound commanding, rough and forceful.

Not only that, but he often uses words such as:

"Urusee!" - a rough and rude way of saying "Urusai"

"Temee" - a rude way of saying you.

"Ore" - a very informal pronoun for "I"

Sanemi's way of speaking bears a teeny tiny resemblance to the Kansai dialect, which is like the Southern accent in the US. Kansai people are stereotyped as being uneducated, stupid, loud and aggressive.

That's why Tanjiro(bestest boy ❤) was shocked when Sanemi switched up real quick as he was speaking to the Master.

His default manner of speaking, even when it's to those who he likes or is okay with, is rough, forceful, aggressive and sometimes confrontational. It tells us about his personality and most importantly his upbringing or lack thereof.

I'll be going into his background in the Part 2 of this post, I'll also talk about how all these aspects makes our boy act the way he does.

In Conclusion, to be continued?

[minty364]

DPXDC Prompt #61 Part 5

There were two new arrivals to the dining room. Both with black hair but one of them had an odd white stripe, the stripe reminded him of his hair in ghost form. 

The one without the stripe sat next to Tim and the other one sat next to Danny. 

“You weren’t kidding when you said they looked identical,” the guy without the stripe said, “Names Richard Greyson, but you can call me Dick”

Dick had a bright smile on his face, it was clear he was a morning person. 

Damian made another ‘Tt’ noise at his introduction. 

The guy with the stripe in his hair grunted in agreement before holding out a coffee mug for Alfred, who was already standing next to him ready to pour. He took a swig before speaking, “Names Jason, you may look alike but seeing Damian eat meat, even from an alternate universe is weird.”

Danny took a bite of his bacon and swallowed like he was making a point before speaking, “I go by Danny, I faked my death years ago, as far as I’m concerned we were all strangers in my world.” He started, he took a moment to think about exactly how’d he explain everything. He knew it wasn’t exactly a pretty story but he also knew from the stories Talia told him when he was younger that Bruce was all about planning ahead, so keeping information from  him might not be the best way to go about all of this. 

He took another bite and swallowed before speaking again, “My foster family is fine though, I have a roof over my head and food. They spend most of their time in their lab working. They study Ectology, or the study of ghosts.” Jason raised an eyebrow at this but didn’t say anything. Danny continued, “They actually succeeded in building a portal to their realm, the realm of ghosts, or Infinite Realm as we call it.”

“We? You say that like you're one of the ghosts” Tim asked laughing a little bit.

He quickly got silent when Danny wasn’t laughing with him.

Damian made another ‘Tt’ noise before speaking, “Clearly this imposter has lost it, ghosts don’t exist and all of this nonsense is just that nonsense.” He glared at Danny.

Danny smiled at him and it caused Damian to falter a little before he glared at Danny again.

“Yes, Ghosts are real,” Danny sighed before continuing, “Trust me, it sounds crazy but I’ve seen some crazy things in my world. Although now I’m wondering if just showing you guys would be easier… Alright I’ll show you all but know that no one except my sister knows. Secret identity and all.”

“Wait,” Dick interrupted, “Does Robin not exist in your world?”

“Robin existed but there hasn’t been a Robin since Joker murdered the last one.” Danny answered. 

Everyone fell silent at that and the atmosphere got heavy. Everyone, especially Jason was giving each other knowing glances.

Danny cleared his throat before continuing, “Anyways, yes ghosts exist, unfortunately the portal in this world probably doesn’t work like my own world. It’s been about a year since I turned it on and since I was here in Gotham when they tried it in this world there’s no telling what they did after it didn’t work. Actually now that I think about it, I wonder if they exist here,” he thought about the GIW in his world and it occurred to him. If ghosts weren’t running rampant in Amity Park, they probably didn’t exist here.

He brought out his phone from his pocket and looked it up. His eyes lit up a bit at the information he found. Or more accurately the information he didn’t find. Searching GIW in this world brought zero results, so great he wouldn’t be hunted for existing here. 

He let out a sigh of relief at this. He turned to everyone and they were watching him closely. He gave them a small smile, “It’s been a while since I had a moment where I didn’t have to worry about being hunted for existing.” He explained. He figured he might as well get the conversation out of the way no matter how difficult it was. 

Everyone at the table was silent as they waited for him to continue. The tension was thick in the air however, you could tell that even though Danny had just arrived everyone was ready to jump to defend him, even if he wasn’t their Damian he was still part of the family even if he had just arrived into their lives. It cemented Danny’s determination to tell them the truth.

He took a deep breath and then spoke again, “The portal didn’t work at first when they tried it, I of course wanted to help so when they were away I went in to see if I could figure out the problem… Long story short, it helps to build the on switch on the outside of the portal. I’m not proud to admit that even with all of my training, there were just too many cords that even I tripped.” He didn’t have to say much else about that as their faces told him they understood what happened. He gave a dark chuckle and continued, “Yeah hurt like hell but I don’t have to worry about losing anything anymore.” He then took his phone and phased it into his chest.

The room went silent again for a moment, but it was broken by Jason who started cackling. 

He wheezed for a moment before he got out, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t ready for not Damian to make a fucking pun!”

Meanwhile everyone else was still too stunned to speak. Finally Damian surprisingly spoke, “What else can you do?”

Danny smiled, this was going to be fun.

Master Post:

Last:

[joeys-babe]

Joey B Blurbs: Say You Love Me

————————————————————————-

summary: you prank Joe by not saying “I love you” back after seeing another couple do it on TikTok.

warnings: fluff, unserious/funny, pranks, illusions to smut at the end.

pairing: joe burrow x reader

Imagine universe: Into The Mystic

————————————————————————-

*no particular date for this blurb!*

(y/n’s pov)

It was a quiet afternoon in the Burrow home, which lately seemed to be a very rare occasion. Joe was upstairs getting ready to go over to Sam Hubbard’s house since a few of the guys were getting together over there. Mostly captains and a couple of other players.

The twins currently sat next to me on the couch while they babbled back and forth with the cartoons playing on the TV.

When I found out I was pregnant, Joe and I had set very strict guidelines for our future kids. Cartoons and tech limit being a huge one we both agreed on.

Well, that was before we became parents. We quickly realized that having two toddler boys at the same time meant using anything to calm them, distract them, keep them content, etc. The list could honestly go on forever.

Now that Joe was going to be leaving soon, I planned to keep them occupied with the TV til they eventually had to take a nap.

As I noticed Miles starting to get tired, Joe came bounding down the stairs loudly making an introduction as usual.

“Hey baby, I'm going to Sam’s now. I'm gonna make sure to get home before dinnertime so I can grill steak tonight.” - Joe

“Mmm. Sounds good.” - you

He made his way over to the couch and bent down to be at eye level with me.

“I've been craving a good steak for a bit so I'm def looking forward to it.” - Joe chuckled

“Okay, babe. Have fun.” - you

Joe leaned forward to give me a quick kiss before pulling away and standing up with a smile.

“Bye, mama. I love you.” - Joe

Let the prank begin.

In all honesty, as fun as this prank was going to be just to see how he'd react it was also kinda sad. Joe has always made it apparent to verbally profess his love for me, and not matching his statement would certainly be something he'd dwell on.

When we first started dating back in high school, Joe made it known to me that the statement “I Love You.” was not something he just threw around. To him, it was a more intimate thing and he'd only tell it to someone if he truly meant it.

I was lucky enough to be one of the people on the receiving end of those three special words leaving Joe’s lips.

But for right now, he wasn't getting the return of those special words.

“Bye Joe.” - you

I tried to study his expression when he realized the fact I didn't say it back but for a second it didn't seem like he had. When he did though, it was very obvious. Maybe she didn't hear me? Joe thought.

Joe leaned down and kissed me once again, this time a lot longer than the first.

“I love you.” - Joe

“Have fun at Sam’s!” - you smiled

The look he gave me wasn't a reflection of hurt but more of confusion and worry.

“You okay?” - Joe

“Yeah, why? I'm great!” - you

He stood there for a second trying to take in my body language, but there wasn't a noticeable difference to him.

“Okay, just checking.” - Joe

Leaning down once again, Joe pressed a very thorough kiss on my lips. My hand rested on his cheek and my thumb rubbed under one of his eyes as we kissed. After, our foreheads stayed touching, and Joe just smiled at me.

“Bye, I love you.” - Joe

“Bye, baby. Tell the boys I say hi!” - you

Joe abruptly stood up after that. They way you kissed him wasn't matching your lack of sentiment.

“y/n? Did I do something?” - Joe

“No. Joe are you okay?” - you

He scoffed before collecting his thoughts and speaking.

“Well I was but i’m kinda confused now.” - Joe

“About what?” - you

I watched Joe cock his head to the side as he narrowed his eyes at me, he was completely and utterly lost.

You were acting completely normal, and happy; kissing him and calling him baby, but you wouldn't say I love you back?

“Do you not want me to go?” - Joe

“What no? Do you want me to not want you to go?” - you

“I mean I wasn't going for that, but I feel like I should stay now.” - Joe

“Why?” - you chuckled

Joe crossed his arms across his built chest, making his muscles bulge, and huffed out a loud breath.

“Are you mad that I was gonna go hang out with the guys today? If you didn't want me to go you could've told me.” - Joe

“You know I don't care if you hang out with your teammates if anything I encourage it. Why are you acting like this?” - you

“What do you mean me?? y/n, what the hell is happening?” - Joe

“I don't even know what you're referring to.” - you

He dropped his arms and ran a hand through his soft curls while heaving a sigh.

“Okay nevermind, whatever. I'm going now. I love you.” - Joe

Joe watched me intently and very closely to see what my next move was.

“Have fun, Joe. I'll be here with the boys waiting for your return.” - you

His expression and body language stayed the same but the words that left his mouth next said the opposite.

“Do you not love me anymore?” - Joe

My mouth dropped open and my eyes widened at his question, have I gone too far?

“What?! Where did that even come from? That's a stupid question and you know it.” - you

“Yeah, sorry.” - Joe looked down at his feet

There were a few seconds of silence before Joe looked back to me.

“I’m gonna go now, or else I'll be late.” - Joe

“Okay, c’mere give me a kiss.” - you

Bending down once again, Joe pressed little pecks on my lips over and over again before pulling away.

“Love you.” - Joe smiled

“Thanks.” - you

“y/n… I’m your husband. Why won't you say it back?” - Joe

“Say what back?” - you

“Don't play dumb. Every time I say I love you, you completely dodge it. What’s that about? If I did something tell me. Please.” - Joe

“Dont know what you're talking about.” - you

Joe’s jaw clenched up and he looked at his two boys who were by now watching him and I instead of their show.

“Hey guys can you go upstairs so Mommy and Daddy can talk?” - Joe

Oh shit.

The boys nodded and eventually went upstairs to their room. Once Joe saw their little frames disappear he turned back to me, his nostrils were flared and he looked mad.

“y/n, what the fuck did I do? It's not our anniversary, you're not on your period, we were literally cuddling an hour ago, and you are kissing me like nothing is up. Why won't you say you love me? It's fucking me up like hell, y/n.” - Joe

I stood up abruptly and wrapped my arms around him, pressing my face into his neck.

“If this is a joke- I swear to literal God.” - Joe

“I'm so sorry Joe. It was just a little prank but I took it way too far, please don't be mad at me. I seriously didn't intend to get you this worked up. I didn't know it'd mess with you like that.” - you

He stayed silent and I moved my head to his chest, his heart was beating unhealthy fast.

“Joe? Baby, are you okay? Your heart is beating really really fast.” - you

I looked up at him as I rubbed his back with one hand, the other rubbed over his heart. Joe was looking straight ahead at the wall, trying to not acknowledge me.

“Say it.” - Joe

“Say wha-” - you

“Say it.” - Joe looked at you

I moved my hands to cup his cheeks and placed a huge kiss on his lips.

“I love you. I love you so much, Joe. I love you more than anything.” - you

“Thanks.” - Joe smirked

“You ass!” - you shoved him as he laughed

We eventually stopped laughing and pulled each other into a hug.

“I love you.” - you

“I love you too.” - Joe smiled and kissed you

Joe and I kept kissing as our hands started to roam over each other’s bodies. Though I protested, Joe pulled away eventually and pulled his phone out of his pocket.

“What are you doing?” - you

“Texting Sam and saying something came up last minute.” - Joe

I smiled and came up with a quick response.

“Oh, something def came up.” - you held eye contact with Joe before flicking your gaze down to his crotch

“Now you're in trouble.” - Joe

He tossed his phone onto the couch and picked me up bridal-style, running to the stairs as we both giggled.

I really loved Joe with my whole heart.

[erwinsvow]

how dad's best friend rafe and reader met ♡

"do you need anything else, mister cameron?"

the soft-spoken words come from somewhere behind him—and said with such sincerity he's a little taken aback. rafe's been to a million and one of these—events and outings and even smaller, more intimate dinners at home like this one—but the wife of whichever business partner he's entertaining this time has never asked this specific question in this specific way.

you sound young, pretty. it's not surprising—half the men at his work are a walking, talking stereotype with a divorce under the belt and a young girl on their arm, and you must to belong to one of them.

he turns around getting ready to tell you he doesn't need anything, but when he's face to face the sentence seems to evaporate into thin air.

you're not one of them—the wives who plaster on a smile and make small-talk while keeping one eye on the clock. no, rafe is sure that you're not.

he was right about two things at least—you are young, and you are very pretty. you smile sweetly at him, eyes blinking in anticipation of his answer.

his own eyes flicker down, first to your left hand. a breath releases by itself, the relief of not finding a wedding ring or engagement band on your fingers completely evident. then they wander down a little—taking in the hem of your dress which dances above your knees. finally, back to your waiting eyes, a little concern dancing around them.

"mister cameron?" it snaps him out, and rafe clears his throat. his hand tightens around the glass of scotch he's been clutching onto, and any tighter will have it shattering.

"no, no, m'fine, thank you. and it's just rafe, actually. rafe is fine."

your polite smile deepens a little, eyes meeting his own and then looking away quickly. he doesn't need your words to tell him—body language and those pretty eyes are enough for a guy his age to decipher you completely.

you're a little flustered, maybe you weren't expecting his response. now that he thinks back a little, just over the last half-hour he's been here, he's seen you floating around, each time with a drink in your hand, off to deliver it to whichever coworker of his was an asshole enough to make you fetch a drink instead of getting it themselves.

it doesn't make much sense—you're here as a guest too, not a waitress, and you know names before introductions are made, and yet-

"i don't know if my dad would approve of that," you say with a laugh, a sweet, sincere laugh to match all of your other sweetness.

things start clicking—remember the name on the invitation for tonight and the coworker who always talking about his family and then it finally comes back—'my daughter's home from school, so you'll get to meet her.'

"yeah." it comes out quiet.

rafe clears his throat, suddenly feeling a little tight even though he was just fine a moment ago. he takes a sip of scotch while looking back at you, and this time he drags it out. starting from your cute heels to your matching dress, the long expanse of exposed skin in between them. how you play with your hands while talking to him, particularly fiddling with that left ring finger. it just makes him think he should get you something to put on there, something to play with instead of your soft skin.

"yeah, kid. wouldn't wanna make him upset, would we?" the question teeters on the edge of teasing. he doesn't want to be too upfront, doesn't want to make you uncomfortable.

what rafe's failed to recognize is the way your eyes have been glued to him since he walked through the door. how you had to go through a seemingly endless list of your dad's work-friends before you could make your way over to the one you wanted to talk to. and while he's taking in you, you're taking in all of him, staring up at a man who towers over you wondering what exactly is hiding underneath his suit jacket.

"i mean.. he doesn't have to know everything. right, rafe?"

"yeah, kid.." he falters, staring at your expression trying to understand what you're really thinking. you smile back at him brightly, taking a step closer. "right."

[stargalaxxy]

⋆˚࿔ Boyfriend Scenarios 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ - Ninja Boys - How They Fluster You ⋆˚ʚɞ

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･AAAAA WHAT HAVE I DONEEEE okiii so since I finished the whole introductions and stuff now it's time for the meat and potatoessss I will admit this is suggestive but by golly gosh was I kicking my feet and giggling like a maniac so I hope y'all do to while reading thissssss BUT FOR ZANES PART I WAS REALLY IN MY FEELINGS LIKE NINJAGO WRITERS PLEASE GIMMIE MORE ZANE CONTENT PLEASSEEEE DROP A DISS TRACK AND MY LIFE IS YOURSSSSSS but I hope you guys enjoy I did hah.... No headcannons this time just short stories so it'll be shorter... Everyone is aged up, all of y'all are in your 20's °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

𝜗𝜚Now Playing: You Right x Luxurious by, Doja Cat, Gwen Stefani𝜗𝜚 (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈) *

♡‧₊˚One Boy a Thousand Feelings♡‧₊˚

♡‧₊˚Lloyd Garmadon♡‧₊˚

‧₊˚ ⋅Shirtless‧₊˚ ⋅

୧ ‧₊˚ 🎀 ⋅ ☆ ˖°

You were outside the bathroom door of the Monastery waiting for Lloyd to come out so that you could do your nightly routine before heading to bed, “Lloyd, c’mooon, I wanna go to beeed” you whine as you try the door again still locked.

You hear Lloyd hack as you could guess was brushing his teeth, the sink goes off as you hear him spit. “Alright alright I’m coming out” Lloyd huffs playfully, chuckling at your impatience as he pictures you rolling your eyes on the other side.

You hear the door unlock as the doorknob turns, “geez Lloyd you’re becoming just as bad as kai” you sass crossing your arms shifting your weight from one foot to the other grinning as you waited for Lloyd to come out. 

“What can I say, I have a girl to impress~” Lloyd teases as he opens the door his hand on the door while his other held the door frame. 

You stop for a second as you take in his appearance, why did this man not have a shirt on?

Not that you were complaining.

“Uhm-uh” nothing could hide the blush on your face as you admired Lloyd’s build, from his abs to his chest beads of water that dripped from his poorly dried hair. 

Slid down his body, your eyes snap away to look at his arms as he shifts his weight gripping the door frame absentmindedly flexing his muscles. 

You finally make your way to Lloyd’s lips holding a big grin, you finally snap from your drooling and stomp your feet, “Where is your shirt!” you yell as your face erupts into blush making Lloyd laugh loudly. “you’re sucha prude!” Lloyd jokes as he wheezes, you gasp pretending to be offended as you try to hide your smile. “Shut up, you’re sucha- a!” you try to find your words as you look away still blushing from your teasing boyfriend, you groan as you try to make your way into the bathroom only to be blocked by Llyod’s chiseled, body. You pout looking up to Lloyd. He grinned showing his sharp teeth, “Lloyd, stop teasing” you whine as you look away from his smirk. “Y’know this is for all the times you teased me when we were kids~” Lloyd stares down at you having finally towered over you, failing to hide your smile as you look to Lloyd. “C’mon Lloyd forgive and forget” you hug his torso as you lean your head up, you could smell his body soap and see a bit of toothpaste on the side of his mouth as Lloyd smiles again. He hums as he looks to the ceiling, “I guess I could, how about a truce kiss~” Lloyd abandons the door frame to point to his lips. You fidget as you play with the hem of Lloyd’s pajama pants, nodding shyly as you close your eyes puckering your pink glossy lips for Lloyd to kiss.

Lloyd exhales through his nose a soft smile on his face as he enjoyed your cute face, praising you with a kiss on your waiting lips. He leans in to deepen the kiss as you hummed into the taste of mint, you both pull away sharing a sigh as your face settled with pink blush eyes sparkling from adoration for the blushing man holding you. 

“Hey, do you wanna-“

“Get ready for bed yea!” you interrupt Lloyd as you swing behind facing his back as you push him out almost falling on his face,

“Woah! (y/n)-“ Lloyd looks back to your playful grin holding the door as you wiggle your fingers at Lloyd, 

“Cya in bed, dork~” you stick your tongue out a finger pulling down the bottom of your eyelid as you mocked him slamming the door before Lloyd could try anything.

Lloyd took a moment to process the few seconds as he huffs stuffing his hands into his pajama pants pockets.

He’ll get you next time~

♡‧₊˚Kai Smith♡‧₊˚

‧₊˚ ⋅Training‧₊˚ ⋅

✧˖°.🍒ֶָ֢⊹ ࣪ ˖🍓₊ ⊹✧

You searched around the Monastery for your boyfriend Kai, Nya invited you to hang out before called for a solo mission, wishing her safety she said that you should go talk to her brother who was training.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get use to this place” you comment to yourself as you opened a sliding door to find a meditation room. Luckily no one inside, you huff as you close the door, you’ve been searching for what felt like forever. With no luck you decided to try waiting out for Kai in his room, making your way there you run into Cole having a towel over his shoulders patting his sweaty forehead. 

“Hey Cole” you smile politely walking over to the earth ninja, “Oh hey (y/n), you lookin’ for Kai?” Cole asks as he returns your smile. You nod scratching the back of your head, “Your home is so big with so many doors, I’m surprised you guys don’t get lost” you joke as Cole snickers. “Eh, you get used to it” he points behind him to the end of the hallway with two big sliding doors, “He’s out on the court, just got finished his training actually” Cole looks back to your grateful expression.  “Thanks Cole, cya later!” you walk to the sliding doors after Cole waved you off continuing his way, you open the doors as the afternoon heat greeted you. 

You look around to see dummies and training equipment with Kai in a fighting stance, you slowly slide the doors closed as you watch him not wanting to be a distraction as you go to sit on the steps. 

Kai’s fists were tightly closed as you followed the lines of his muscles of his sleeveless shirt flexing as he gives quick and powerful blows to the spinning equipment. The planks come back around as Kai quickly blocks the quick turning equipment with his arms, grunts slip from his lips after every blow he gave. His eyebrows scrunched as sweat drops from his brow, you watched as he moved, he was so strong. Soon the equipment starts to get faster from each hit that Kai gave, he then uses one of the bottom planks to push himself up into the air performing a backwards flip as he lands on his feet as the equipment spins. 

You look to Kai in amazement at his skill you were starting to realize that watching Kai train was starting to become your favorite activity. 

Noticing the way Kai’s healed scars on his muscle would tense and release as he grabbed heavy objects, wishing it was you, and continued with his training for a little while. Kai threw the weights down as a sigh escapes his lips finally taking a break. He starts to fan himself using his tank top, letting out a breathy laugh Kai looks to you with a teasing glint.

“How long d’you wanna stare?” his exhausted deep voice sounded like heaven, “Huh!” you finally pop out from your thoughts ripping away from his glorious, scared face and arms. 

“Wh-Whatever~” You look away embarrassed a smile creeping it’s way on your red cheeks, Kai starts making his way towards you.

“Was my sister too boring~ Did you need me to entertain you, bunny~?” You look to his cheeky smirk with an unamused grin, “ha-ha, aren’t you hilarious~” you joke as you turn away from your boyfriend. “I was just coming to hang out with you since Nya had a mission, but since your busyyy” you go to walk away with an expectant reaction from Kai to pull you back into his sweaty body. Oh boy was that a mistake.

You gag as you inhale his very worked out body odor, “Kaiii, you smell like burnt charcoal and outside!!” You squeal as Kai holds your struggling form close to his uncomfortably wet body. 

“I’m sooo sorry, baby~ Let’s hang out~” Kai swings your body from side to side as if printing his scent onto you. You let out a playful scream as you try to get away, “fiine, whatever, just let go you smelly dog” you complain as you continue to wiggle. Kai laughs as he turns you around to face him, “I’ll let you go for a kiss~” Kai taunts as he comes closer to your face visibly pleased by your blushing face. “Mmm, Kaii” you whine as you scrunch up your nose after catching a whiff of his neck, Kai made no movement of letting you go until he got what he asked for. You sigh in defeat as you shuffle your arms away from your boyfriend’s grip to cup his cheeks you slowly bring him down to your lips as Kai hums into your mouth, he blushes from feeling your lips mold into a smile. 

You both part as you try to catch your breaths; Kai lays his head on the crook of your shoulder holding you close. 

“Kai, I love you-“

“Me too-“

“But you stink, honey, take a shower.” You say deadpanned, 

“yep” Kai lets go finally as he goes to take a well-deserved shower.

♡‧₊˚ Cole Brookstone♡‧₊˚

‧₊˚ ⋅Muscles‧₊˚ ⋅

✩°｡⋆⸜ 🎧

Cole is a sweetheart around the kitchen when he would volunteer his help especially when gathering supplies from the highest point of the shelf or lifting heavy objects like big bags of flour or sugar. 

You appreciated his help especially when your father couldn’t be at the shop, you tried paying him for helping you, but he refused saying, “what kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t help my favorite girl?” however, he did say that you could pay him in samples of new recipes and kisses from you. Which you completely oblige to, 

It was early in the morning on a Saturday, your shop closes on weekends so during this time you would take time to restock incoming supplies and throw away old ingredients. 

Cole would invite himself to help you during these times he enjoyed the quiet of the shop as you played music in the background from yours and Cole’s combined playlist that you both worked together in making. Cole enjoyed spending those times with you, it made him happy to think about having a domestic lifestyle with you. 

You held your favorite-colored clipboard with your checklist in hand of things to check for, ensuring all your supplies came in and ingredients hadn’t passed its expiration date. 

After the satisfied check you asked if Cole could carry in the big bags of flour to their respected places. 

Nodding Cole lifts one of the bags securely on his shoulder and the other under his arm with zero effort. Since Cole has helped from moving and grabbing objects you’ve found yourself staring at his arms. Enjoying the way, they flexed as he moved the supplies at your order, his muscles would tense and veins protrude as he would hold objects in his arms firmly. Why can’t he hold you like that?! You bite your lip to distract your deep desires as you slowly peel your eyes away from his arms. 

Soon you hear a chuckle from your boyfriend you snap your head back as Cole doubles over, placing the large bags on the table so that he doesn’t drop them.

“Why are you laughing!” You smile nervously as you had a suspension as to why, “You are so obvious, (y/n), oh my gosh” Cole places his hands on his knees once again going tense as he holds onto them seeing his veins and blushing at the sight. You were losing too much respect for yourself, oml, “What, can’t I appreciate the looks of my man~” you try to play it cool as you grin placing hands on your hips as Cole smiles regaining his composure. 

“Hmm, your man, I like the sound of that~” Cole saunters over each step he took was in tune to the music as you blush forcing your eyes to look at him. Cole then wraps his arms around your waist as he pulls you close swaying both your hips to the music that was playing on your phone. 

You wrap your arms around him fighting the urge to look at how his arms looked wrapped around you. Feeling tiny under him knowing he could probably pick you up like it was nothing made your heart flutter. 

“It’s true, you’re my man~” you smile as you repeat into his neck as he continues to sway you, he slowly spins you to A dip, “I’m so lucky to be yours, babe~” he lowers his head to kiss your lips. You close your eyes to accept his affection-

“ahem” you felt Cole tense up above you as you jumped you both pulling away to see your dad at the door with an unamused face.  D-daddy!” you nervously greet him to try and hide any happenings to prevent an aneurism from him.

“H-hey, Mr. (l/n)” Cole waves as he chuckles nervously leaning against the counter to try and act calm in front of your dad.

He huffs as he walks away to pay off bills most likely for the shop, you both sigh with relief more of Cole as he had a hand over his beating heart. “Geez, do you think your dad will ever like me?” Cole asks with a grin; you chuckle as you grab Cole’s hand. “He likes you, he’s just…not thrilled with you” you try and explain your fathers’ thoughts as best as you could.

Cole hums as he places his other hand on the bottom of your chin placing a quick kiss to your lips, “well, these bags aren’t gonna move themselves~” Cole kisses the back of your hand as he lets go to finish his task. Placing your fingers on your lips you smile as you continue your own work as music from Cole’s selection starts to play as you sway your hips absentmindedly to the beat. 

♡‧₊˚Zane Julien♡‧₊˚

⋆｡°·☁️His Hands⋆｡°·☁️

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚

Zane was over at your apartment for a date night, you both were cooking dinner as he was frying fish, and you were cutting vegetables and making rice on the side. You enjoyed Zane’s cooking he made everything one hundred times better, he could make toast taste like a delicacy.

You especially liked helping him by passing him things or adding things into dishes when his hands were full. It made you feel like a married couple making dinner together it was so romantic to you, Zane seemed to enjoy it as well as he always had a smile on his face, he seemed to love teaching you how to do things as well. 

You remember when Zane was behind you as he guided your hands when cutting into the fruit, you were so focused but on the wrong things. Not on Zane’s voice, not in the motion of his cutting. But his forearm, his muscles visible from each motion as he would talk you into cutting properly. His quiet voice close to your ear your back against his smooth chest. Blush was visible on your face as you squeak when Zane calls for your name,  “(y/n), are you alright? Your heart rate has increased” Zane points out as his blue eyes glow in a scanning motion. “D-don’t point that out!” you squeak as you close your eyes from embarrassment, Zane tilts his head to the side as he looks to your face. “You are red, you are displaying characteristics similar to when we kis-“ you interrupt him with a squeal as you duck away from his hold. 

That was a month ago, you’ve learned your lesson or so you thought as you finished chopping the vegetable you go to turn off the dial to the rice to let it sit as you look to Zane again. Having tongs in his hand as he lifts the finished fried fish from the pot, and places them on the paper towel to dry any extra grease as the fish sits. You were staring again looking at his forearms as they flexed from gripping and releasing. Watching the muscles on the back of his hand flex as well, “ow!” you flinch back as the grease popped you on your hand. Zane broke from his concentration as he places the tongs down to tend to you.

“Are you alright?” Zane was quick to grab your wrist as he examines your hand, “you are not burned however, running your hand under cool water should ease the pain” Zane explains as he walks you to the sink and runs your hand under the water. 

You flinch under the sudden temperature change and sudden pain that danced on your hand, Zane was quick to notice your pull back. As he starts rubbing his thumb on the palm of your hand in comforting motion, each time his thumb would run against your palm his muscles on his wrist would once again show. Putting you in a trance of its movement, you found yourself once again against Zane’s body, blush found its way to your cheeks as you hum against his touch admiring his hands movements. 

“(y/n)” Zane calls to you as all you could do was hum a response to him, his touch was so calming and soothing. “Your face is warm, and your heart is starting to pick up speed” Zane was now confident enough in understanding your emotions to tell when you are not harmed but displaying satisfied emotions during your intimate moments together.

Zane smiles as he holds you close closing his eyes as he leans down to the crook of your neck, you mold your hands to hold his as they stayed under the cool water. 

“I have noticed how attentive you’ve been of my hands, why is that?” Zane asks as he continues rubbing your injured hand with affection. You blush as you look to him as you rub your cheek onto Zane’s synthetic one, “I just…like them” you spoke quietly as you tried to save any type of dignity you once had by not saying how hot his hands were when he would grab or subconsciously flex them. Wishing he’d grab parts of your body so that you could feel how much power he puts into them to make them flex like that. 

But someone would have to torture you to get that information out. 

Zane’s smile grows as he traces his nose up your neck, “Is that normal for people to like features such as that?” Zane asks, was he teasing you? 

You huff out a laugh as you look away, “it’s what I like, others have different preferences, but hands are a common one.” You explain to your boyfriend, he nods as he hums at your answer still smiling. 

“Are there other parts of me that you enjoy?” Zane’s question surprised you as your face exploded into red, your ears were pink as Zane’s lips formed into a grin. “I-uhm, well-“ before you could explain you hear beeping come from your smoke alarm. You both jump from each other as Zane was quick to turn off the stove smoke coming from the oil pan as he transfers it over to a cool part of the stove. You race to open a window as Zane puts on the oven fan and shuts off the smoke alarm.

Once there was quiet again you and Zane let out a sigh of relief, “th-thank you, hah” you laugh as Zane smiles shyly scratching the back of his head. 

“I apologize I should have turned off the stove” you giggle as you pat Zane on the shoulder in a reassuring manner, “It’s okay, the important thing is that we’re safe~” you kiss his cheek as you place the fried fish on the table with the rice and vegetables. You look back to Zane who was looking at you with blush on his face, 

Smiling you ask, “are you ready for dinner?”

♡‧₊˚Jay Walker♡‧₊˚

⋆˚✿˖°❀See Through Shirt ⋆˚✿˖°❀

🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Jay shared his interest in inventing new technologies for the team with you, his hobby of fixing things around his home and even yours, if you asked him. Which he was so happy to do, it was like a dog wanting to please its owner.

It was adorable to you when Jay would tell you different parts that he was using to fix different things. He was happy to know that you wanted him to show you how to fix things, so you didn’t always ask him in fear of annoying him.

Jay would ease your worry by saying he’ll always be there to help you, dropping anything that he was doing to help you with heart eyes.

In return you would make him food or drinks to which he’d gush thanking you multiple times for the food, you giggle as he would eat the food you made with a smile on his face as if you cured hunger. 

Jay has expressed how much he’s loved your cooking several times, ever since you made dinner for him when he came to your house to get away from his brothers. 

After that he was hooked, you were sure he was overexaggerating, but he’d always come to your house whenever you invited him. 

So now Jay is fixing your car, it was a great price and a dream car of yours, however not even three months later did your car start experiencing problems. No wonder it was a too good to be true, you asked Jay if he could fix your car since you knew finding someone to fix it would cost a fortune. That is why you had Jay over that night working in your garage under the car, you would talk to the chatterbox to keep him company until you left to make dinner. 

When you came back to tell Jay that it was done you saw him in his white undershirt wiping oil off his hands, his concentrated brow furrowed as he tries to clean up. You stare at his thin white shirt cover in sweat as it stuck to his body, his rippling muscles showing through his shirt, it almost looked unnatural on his cute face. To see a chiseled chest hand crafted by the gods on your adorable boyfriends freckled face, but there it was. Manipulating his arms to clean the oil from your car, 

You stare at him jaw on the floor at his form. Jay satisfied for what he could get off throws the rag in the bucket going inside to tell you what he’s found and how he can fix it just to meet your shocked expression. 

“O-oh hey..” Jay waves as he looks to you with a questioned look wondering as to why you looked like you were trying to catch flies in your mouth, “are you okay?” he tilts his head like a puppy. But the cute face was instantly shadowed by his form, “J-Jay, you look…great” you force out any dignity that you had left, you walk over with your hand out.

Jay blushes but stays still wanting to know what you would do; you touch his wet shirt that was protecting his muscles you feel a spark shock your finger as you ignore it for your personal gain to glide your finger delicately down his abs. 

Jay squeaks as you continue your nails tickling his stomach as he stares at you with loving eyes as you revered in his body, “(y-y/n)” Jay breaths out as you finally snap out from your trance to look up at your boyfriend. He looks so cute with his flustered expression over his scattered freckles, you smile as you cup your hand on his cheek gliding your thumb as he rests his head on your palm.

“Dinner is ready..” you whisper loud enough for him to hear you as he hums staring at your face, “You’re so handsome Jay, y’know?” you ask as you glide your hand down to his chin so that he’d look at you. “I do now, but c-can you say it again?” he squeaks out as he looks away for a second to land back at your adoring face, you coo as you exhale a smile on your face.

“Of course, blue jay~ My handsome boyfriend~” you grab his face you pull him down to a kiss, separating to continue your praises calling him handsome and yours.

Jay soaks up your words like a sponge, you giggle at his pleased face as you pull away rewarded by a pout. “c’mon silly, let’s get you something to eat” you wink as you bring him inside, Jay chuckles as he looks away, “y’know if I get this from just my shirt maybe I should wear this all the time~” Jay teases as he looks back to your blushing face. 

“You’d do that for me?” you bite your lip at future encounters of Jay and his body, Jay’s confidence instantly plummets as he turns to mush from witnessing your face at his comment. You giggle as you pat Jay’s back, “go shower and I’ll have your plate ready” you walk over to your stove to prepare any last touches.

Jay smiles as he goes to your bathroom for a needed shower, once you were by yourself you place a hand on your heart feeling it’s beat increase at your actions. You had to calm your breathing as a smile grows bigger, you were coming to the point of a fangirl freakout, as you fanned your face and squealed soon wrapping your hands around your body.

“Eek, my boyfriend is so hawt!” you squeak as you place your hands on your cheeks that was growing hot by the second, from your freak out.

“Hehe, so this is why you pushed me out the room~” you hear Jays voice as you stop in your tracks, you slowly turn to face your smug boyfriend, “I needed a towel, so I came down to ask for one, I’m so glad I came at the right time to see this” Jay smiles at your embarrassed expression. 

You chuckle nervously as you look away, “w-well I can’t help but think that I’m the luckiest girl in the world to have a cute hot boyfriend” you try to explain as you scratch the back of your head. Jay chuckles as he comes over to hug your embarrassed form knowing your reaction all too well, 

“I’m the lucky one for having such a loving girlfriend~” you smile as you accept his embrace. “I love you, (y/n)” Jay exhales as you hug him tightly, “I love you too, Jay.”

Okiii I doubt I'll post anything for a while bcs I literally have nothing, I used up every inch of my creative writing juice that I have no idea what to write...ᯓᡣ𐭩 °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ P.s. If you couldn't tell I love guys with musclessss hehehe Love, ⋆˚࿔ Karrots 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

[sunshine-theseus]

Fools | Kyra Cooney-Cross x ND!Reader

Words: 4.3k

Summary: no one understood your mind, until you met Kyra.

Notes: Guys I have no knowledge of how Emirates is laid out, how meeting players off the pitch works etc, so I’m completely making this shit up I’m sorry. also sorry for the super long introduction, and the shit writing, I haven’t written in months.

Warnings: mentions of abuse - not proofread. i'm so sorry if this is so shit i genuinely haven't written in months. i wanted this one to be good so bad but i just don't think it is

the person who requested this has since deactivated so i actually feel so bad that i didn't get this out while they were on here. i'm genuinely so sorry for the past like 6 months.

I always struggled with social interactions. I didn’t understand it for a long time, why I always had to smile and hug people, why I had to lie about certain things like how I thought my aunt’s bright green hat looked, why I couldn’t ramble about Star Wars or the new penguin facts I just learned.

Then there were the sounds, and lights and the way things felt. Everything had to be specific, or I couldn’t focus. Sometimes if it was bad enough that I would have a breakdown, unable to do anything. My parents tried to scold it out of me when as a kid I couldn’t eat certain foods or wear the clothes they wanted. Sometimes if they deemed it worthy, I’d be met with the flesh of a palm against my cheek or bottom.

-

When I was 12, I presented the idea that maybe I was autistic to my parents. I’d researched it at school for a social emotional learning class we had to take, and I couldn’t help but notice the similarities I found within myself. If I think about it hard enough, I can feel every burning outline of the dark red hand marks that bloomed on my skin hours after the interaction, and the burning of my eyes as my stomach rumbled, drowned out by the music rumbling through my headphones.

-

At 17 I emancipated from my parents and moved to North Watford, renting out a small studio apartment above a record shop. I completed my final year of high school, working part time in the store, building a much-desired routine. The man that owned the shop and my apartment, and his young daughter, were migrants from Cuba, and more than happy to accommodate to my needs. They even chipped in to help me pay for my autism screening after I graduated high school.

I think they were the first people I willingly hugged ever.

I stopped masking when I moved, so the daughter, Elena; 5, took a few months to understand why I didn’t like touch or loud noises and why I didn’t understand some of the jokes she said that others usually laughed at. Not that I’d had the diagnosis at that time, but she was happy to just spend time with me. Every afternoon when I came back from school and started my shift, she’d beg me for more penguin facts, asking which was my favourite penguin. In return she’d spend the 2-hour shift drawing me something, usually a penguin, to pin on my corkboard at home.

I’d then help with her homework while Camilo closed shop and posted any online orders. It was a routine I cherished deeply.

-

Now, 3 and a bit years later at 21 years old, they managed to drag me to a football game. Equipped with headphones and a couple small sensory toys, as well as a hoodie under the “Miedema” jersey, the material of which originally had me tugging and prying the shirt away from my skin.

Elena and Camilo had been big fans of Arsenal for as long as I’d known them, going to every home game, begging me to join them every week without fail. I finally caved during a break in my uni courses, with nothing to do and Elena’s birthday falling on the day of a game, there was no other choice.

The newly 9-year-old basically imploded when she saw my printed ticket stub, tucked tightly into her birthday card. I gently ruffled her hair, which had become my version of hugging her, and showed her the 3 matching red and white #11 jerseys I purchased not long ago. She’d talked a lot about this Vivianne Miedema and how she wanted to be just like her when she grew up, but she’d never gotten a jersey, or seats on the bottom tier. Today was the day.

~

“Come ooonnn I want to get to our seats!” the pinky of her left hand links with my right one as her other hand is holding her dad’s, and she’s dragging us down the lane toward the entrance.

“Slow down Pollito! We have 20 more minutes until we need to be seated.” My special schedule for the day runs through my head as I check my watch. Plenty of time as long as the crowd keeps flowing.

“I wish you didn’t learn Spanish. It’s such a silly nickname.”

“But you’re my little chicken.” I send a joking frown her way and she replies with a toothless grin.

With the abrupt end to the conversation, we arrive at the gate. Showing the stewardess our tickets to be scanned, we then head toward our seats. As Camilo and I take our seats at the very front, instead of make way to their usual seats a tier up, Elena stops and looks back and forth between us.

“There’s no way you got us these seats.” Without a word I pull the girl in between us and she begins to ramble about how excited she is to be able to see the game so close, still able to be clearly heard through my headphones I manage to slip over my ears.

~

The game is drawn 1-1 just after half time, but Arsenal is close to having the upper hand. From across the pitch, Elena spots the tall and lanky number 11, Vivianne Miedema, pulling off her fluoro yellow bib and warm up shirt and lining up next to number 32 behind the fourth official who is prepping her sign. With a couple of whacks to my arm and an aggressive point of her finger, Elena makes me and Camilo very aware of the impending entrance of her favourite player, and another really attractive girl who is very obviously wearing her socks on the wrong feet. The thought makes me squirm but a shot on goal quickly manages to take my focus.

“Who’s the one coming on with Viv? You’ve never told me about number 32.” It’s hard to take my eyes off the girl as she jumps from one foot to the other, anticipating her entrance.

“Oh that’s Kyra Cooney-Cross! She’s Australian, she transferred at the start of the season. Jonas should play her more.” I acknowledge her words with a hum and a nod before we join in cheering Viv and Kyra on.

My eyes are glued to Kyra the rest of the game. Without any knowledge of how football works, I’m left to assume she’s good with the way she dances around players and passes the ball. It was weird, but her movement was so free flowing it would not be atrocious to confuse her with a ballerina. Elegant and calculated, no hesitation.

~

“Where are we going?” my pinky is once again linked with Elena’s as I drag her and Camilo through Emirates.

“Papa where is she going? The exit is that way.”

“I have no clue chica, but I suppose we should trust her aye?” with that, the father-daughter duo track behind me.

Eventually I stop just where the opening of the tunnel leads out on to the pitch and show a lady the pass I’d been carrying around all day. She smiles and begins walking down the tunnel, waving behind her as a sign for us to follow.

“What’s going on?” Elena asks once again, but I just follow the lady onto the pitch, where multiple members of the Arsenal squad are now loitering around, obviously waiting for something, or someone. At the front of the group is Viv, and when she spots the small girl behind me her eyes light up.

“Hi! You must be Elena. We’ve heard a lot about you!” she sends the girl a smile, but Elena doesn’t make any move to continue the conversation. My head whips to her and I nearly have to laugh from how adorable she is. Her jaw has dropped open and her eyes are welling up with tears, so I ruffle her hair and bend down to her height, removing my headphones.

“What’s up buttercup?” I lightly tap her head.

“That’s really her.” she whispers to me, her eyes not leaving the Dutch woman, who lets out a chuckle.

“Yes it is.”

“How?” I tap the side of my nose at her question indicating it’s to be left a secret.

“Can I have a hug?” Viv kneels on one knee and opens her arms and Elena suddenly breaks lose from her trance and runs up to her hero.

“It’s nice to meet you liefje, I hear you’ve been a fan for a long time. And today’s your birthday. How old are you turning?”

“Nine!”

“Oh wow, you’re growing up!”

“I know, but Y/N still calls me Pollito. I’m not a little chicken.” Everyone looking on bursts out laughing as Elena frowns, and while I join them, the loud sound simply reminds me of the lack of protection on my ears.

~

Elena gets whisked off to talk and play around with Viv and some of the other girls, who seem to all have taken a genuine liking to the young girl, Camilo following to watch over them. I stand firmly on the sidelines, fidgeting with an infinity cube and trying to forget the sudden scratching of my hoodie’s tag on the back of my neck and the tightness of my socks, when a now familiar face pops in front of me.

I don’t notice her at first, my eyes are closed and I’m trying breathing patterns in hopes that the overstimulating sensations with dissipate. It’s only when I open my eyes to check on Elena that I get the shock of my life. Number 32 is just standing in front of me, staring, waiting for me to notice her. no less than a minute ago she’d been spinning Elena around and laughing with her, which I’d found alarmingly adorable, how’d she get here so fast?

She doesn’t say anything, she just smiles and waves, and I realise she must think I can’t hear her with my headphones on, which many people tend to ignore. Wow she’s much prettier up close.

“Hi, I’m Y/N” I return her smile, but don’t make any move to remove the headphones.

“I’m Kyra.” Her voice is muffled but her accent is incredible and like music to my ears.

“You played really well today.” Is she blushing? Red creeps up her neck and finds home on her round cheeks as she smiles brightly.

“Ah thanks, I try to give it my all. Hoping to prove I deserve more game time.”

“You don’t get played often?” another chuckle passes her lips and I feel my stomach tighten.

“Uh no. I take it you’re not a big football fan?”

“What gives you that idea.”

“Well rocking up to an Arsenal game with blue nails for a start.” I cock my head to the side and give her a confused look. I did a lot of research for today, there was no room for me to mess up.

“Chelsea, our biggest rivals, their colour is blue. It’s basically forbidden for an arsenal fan to wear blue to a game. Trust me, I learnt the hard way.”

I’m quick to hide my hands in the pocket at the front of my hoodie, fidgeting with my nails. How did I manage to fuck that up?

“You don’t really have to worry, just maybe keep it in mind if you ever come to another game. I hope you do by the way.” She flashes me a smile that makes me feel warm and I can’t help myself.

“You’re very pretty.” She’s about to reply when I glance down and notice her socks are still wrong.

“And I’m not sure if you know but your socks are on the wrong feet.” It’s quiet for a moment and I’m not sure if my common candour has once again overstepped. I can’t even open my mouth to apologise before she giggles.

“I knew there was something wrong. I keep doing it but no one tells me until after the game… and you’re quite beautiful yourself. If you don’t mind me saying.” My eyes continue to avoid her face as I bounce on the balls of my feet and try to refrain from shaking my hands, my most common stim.

“Thank you.”

We’re silent for a minute or so, which I don’t mind now that I’m more familiar with her. I continue to watch Elena and Camilo, who are now playing in a 5v5, Viv carrying the girl halfway down their makeshift pitch before helping her kick the ball. When her laughs echo through the stadium, joy breaking through her screams and from the yells of her dad who is playing a rather poor referee, I’m reminded of how much I love this family. I can’t help the smile on my face.

“Your sister is very adorable.” I glance to my side where Kyra now resides and contemplate telling her she isn’t my sister, but the words get stuck in my throat. If I were to say they weren’t my family after all they’ve done for me, then I’d be lying.

“Yeah. She’s basically my whole life.”

“Hey can I ask about the headphones? I mean you don’t have to say anything if you don’t want but-“

“I’m autistic. Struggle really bad with sound and other stimulants. I wear headphones to dampen sounds, especially in public. And stadiums are full of sounds.” My palms sweat a little and my breath is laboured for a moment. This is usually the part where people decide I’m a freak and never talk to me again.

“Oh cool. I totally get that, the sound thing.” That warm feeling returns. She doesn’t question anything, she just agrees.

~

Eventually the meet and greet had to end, but I manage to get a few of the girl’s numbers, including number 32’s. Something I hadn’t expected was that the team would love Elena so much that they wanted to organise season tickets and some more passes to meet up after home games. I couldn’t help but be a little proud of myself as the young girl rambled about how amazing it was to get to hang out with her idols, and the prospect of seeing them again.

~

Uni starts back up the following week, so I don’t join the two for a game for quite a while. Despite that, I find myself texting Kyra most days, a good morning and goodnight routine quickly being established. We ask each other questions about each other. ‘What did you want to be if football didn’t work out?’ ‘What made you want to study your course?’ ‘what’s your favourite thing about Australia?’.

She liked to ask me about parts of my autism every now and then. She wanted to know what things to avoid, what topics made me ramble for ages, safe foods. The only other people who had ever cared this much were Elena and Camilo. The two of which had definitely taken note of how happy I’d grown since the game.

“Who are you talking to Angelito? You haven’t smiled this big in a long time.” Camilo takes a seat beside me behind the desk of the store

There is no need to hide the blossoming relationship from him, so I turn my screen to show the messages between Kyra and I, a bold ‘No. 32’ under a very weird but unmistakable picture of the girl. He hums and smiles, lightly nudging our shoulders together.

“She likes you.”

“Pft no she doesn’t.”

“‘you’re so cute.’ ‘I really like you.’ ‘I’ll save that for when I take you on a date.’ With a winky face emoji. She literally admits she likes you. Twice.”

“I thought that was that flirty thing people do with their friends.”

“I know when people like each other.”

“How Milo?”

“I have a gift.”

“A gift hmm?” he just smiles widely down at me before taking my phone again. He begins to type something.

“What are you writing Milo? Milo!” I glance over his shoulder.

‘I really like you and would like to go on a date if you’re free.’ I’m about to scold him but three dots appear as Kyra begins typing.

“If this works you owe me an extra hour this week.”

“You are an evil schemer Camilo.” I say before squeezing his shoulder, a common sign of affection we’d developed.

‘I’d really like that. Tomorrow’s our day off if that works.’

I can’t help the squeal I let out as Camilo writes a response in confirmation.

“I’m going on a date.”

“You deserve this kiddo.”

~

Kyra and I agree on a dinner date at a restaurant I’d mentioned really enjoying a few months ago, that I hadn’t had a chance to visit since. I’d made the reservation, asking for the specific table I’d sat at the last time I came, and I’d already decided on what I was getting before I even hoped in the car to drive there.

I’d planned everything perfectly. The place, my outfit, what time I had to leave to arrive there 10 minutes before our agreed upon time. I hadn’t taken into account the car speeding through a red light and crashing into the car in the right lane beside me. Or the fact that due to the momentum I’d get caught between the 2 cars and the building on the corner of the street I was just about to turn down. No more than 15 metres from the restaurant but I’m trapped and the seatbelt is too tight and my head hurts. I’m crushed between my door and the centre console and all the sirens and ambulance lights approaching are too much and all I can do it cry.

If I could just reach my bag in the footwell of the passenger seat I could get my headphones to relieve some of the stimulation, but I can’t bend that way without my ribs screaming and whatever is poking my hip in my back making itself known.

I pray to every god I can name that I pass out, but no one hears as the jaws of life pry open my door. When were the other cars moved?

“Ma’am we have to cut you out. my colleague here is going to hold you up. Is that okay?” I don’t have any energy to say no, so I nod, waiting for some scissors to snip away at the seatbelt. Instead, I hear an electric saw whir to life.

“W- what’s the saw for?” my words are barely recognisable as they slur together.

“Ma’am everything is okay, just stay still for us okay?”

The sawing is over quicker than it begun, and the paramedics make an effort to move me as carefully as they can onto the stretcher, then into the ambulance. I make no move to complain about how the neck brace is itchy and feels suffocating.

A minute passes and through the newly developed ringing in my ears, I hear someone calling my name. they sound so far away but when I open my eyes again, Kyra is standing above me, next to the paramedic who’s hooking me up to monitors,

“Do you know this lady ma’am?” she asks me as I stare up at the girl I was meant to be on a date with.

“Yeah she’s my girlfriend.” A voice in the back of my head is worried that maybe that will freak Kyra out, but I know they won’t let her ride with me if we don’t have some close connection and for some reason friend does not cross my mind.

They allow her to take the extra seat beside me and she loops her pinky with mine. She keeps glancing down toward my stomach and taking deep breaths as we make our way down the streets of London. I try to see what she’s looking at but the brace doesn’t allow me to look that far down.

“You’re going to be okay.” She whispers as they roll me out of the ambulance, and she manages to quickly kiss me before I’m gone from view.

~

I don’t know how long I’m out for, but when I wake up there is a sterile white light beaming down on me and I have to instantly close my eyes. I’m quick to take note of the horrible feeling of the hospital gown I definitely wasn’t in when I’d gone under.

“Papa! She’s awake!” I let out a groan at the yell but and quick to smile once the voice registers in my head.

“Pollito.” My voice is no more than a whisper, hoarse and dry.

“Hey Angelito. How are you feeling.”

“Horrible. The light’s too bright and the gown is so itchy.” Neither Elena nor Camilo leave my side, but the light is off within seconds.

“I more meant physically. You were hit pretty hard.” The screeching of tyres, the smell of burnt rubber, the flashing lights, all rush back to me. So does the pain.

“Now that you mention it. What’s the damage?” it’s meant as a joke but I’m trying not to cry.

“3 broken ribs, 2 fractured, a torn vastus lateralis in your thigh, a lot of muscle damage in your back. It’s going to be a lot of physical therapy kiddo.” The thought has bile rising in my throat.

“Fuck me.”

“It’s okay, we’re going to be here the whole way. All of us.” By now I could know the voice in a crowd of people.

I turn my head and there she is. Kyra is sat in one of the uncomfortable hospital seats with her hand on top of mine.

“If it’s okay with you, Camilo, me and some of the arsenal girls are going to sort out a schedule to take turns helping you with PT. Viv was really hoping she could give some tips considering how long she spent doing PT.”

“That sounds perfect. But please tell me one of you has my pyjamas. I need to get out of this gown.”

~

There was no lie in how difficult rehab was. I had an hour appointment at the hospital every day and additional work at home that Milo, Kyra and some of the arsenal girls happily helped with. The hardest hurdle was amount of physical touch that was required. My physical therapist, Jordan, always made sure I knew when she needed to touch my leg or something, but that did very little to sooth the feeling that crawled beneath my skin. She was able to dim the fluorescent white lights and allowed me to wear my headphone which did help a small amount.

Kyra basically moved into my room above the shop. Milo insisted he could do all the work of getting me around the house and the shop, but we knew he couldn’t while maintaining the shop and looking after Elena. Elena tried her best to help by making me breakfast. She gathered pre-made versions of my safe breakfast food and carefully place them separately on a plate, with a glass of orange juice every morning. After the first week she realised I’d be in a wheelchair and struggling to move around much for much longer than she thought, so she quickly gave up on that idea and began making me penguin drawings at school.

I’d adapted to having Kyra around much quicker than I expected to. When I moved in at 17, it took me months to get used to the layout and the fact that I was alone, despite Camilo and Elena living in the house across the road. I adapted to Kyra’s presence within weeks.

After the second week we’d decided it was easier to share the bed rather than her sleeping on the couch, which had been the biggest change. I struggled with it the first few nights. I had a sleep routine that was already disrupted by the injuries, now I had to take another person into account. But she was so warm, and I felt so safe in her arms. Whenever I woke up from a nightmare about the crash, she grabbed me an iced tea and my headphones and would ramble about whatever interests she had recently developed or whatever was happening at training.

It was in the second month things took a more serious turn. Well serious for our relationship. I was sitting at the table chopping the vegetables for dinner while she begins cooking, when I took a minute to just look at her. The warm lighting softened her features, her quiet humming to whatever song was playing carried throughout the room, the smile that seemed to never leave her face sat perfectly on her lips as she listened to me ramble about the newly discovered yellow king penguin. She was so radiant and attentive, and she was never annoyed at me when I was overstimulated or wanted to infodump. She was seemingly unaffected by my rehab and most importantly unaffected by my autism. After a life full of negative interactions and losing people because of one thing I couldn’t control, I’d found a family and a partner who embraced me.

I didn’t realise I was crying until she turned and asked me what was wrong.

“I’m just grateful.”

“For what?”

“You, Milo, Elena. I love you all so much.” I didn’t realise I’d said it really. I was just being candid, as I always was.

“You love me?”

“Yes.” There was no hesitation even as it dawned on me.

“Well, I love you too.” There is a split second between the end of her sentence and the meeting of our lips in a kiss.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” I ask as we pull away.

“Wait- I thought- when you called me your girlfriend on the ambulance I kind of took that as you asking me to be your girlfriend.” She begins laughing.

“What? This whole time I’ve been nervous about actually asking you and you already thought I had?” I can’t help but join her laugh.

“We’re such fools.” She whispers, and we kiss again.

I'll always be a fool for her.

[peppermintquartz]

(Tommy's pov of this)

He's in the process of making sure the bird is ready to go when he turns and sees Howie, as well as two unfamiliar young guys following him.

Good-looking faces too. Maybe they should do the calendar next year. The shorter one has large, soulful eyes and a confident stride that speaks of military experience; the other is a tall, leggy man with a boyish smile and seems to be visibly thrumming with energy.

Of course they bring in the studs after I'm gone, Tommy thinks, half-exasperated that he's missed out on eye candy and half-amused at his own shallowness.

"Howie, hey!" Tommy says and embraces his former colleague and current friend. It's not always possible for them to meet up, but a life debt is not something Tommy will forget. "Long time."

Howie claps him on the back. It feels like a silent thank you, which, given the enormity of what they're going to do, the less said aloud the better.

Can't risk someone overhearing that they're going to steal a helicopter on a mere hunch.

Tommy knows he has a good poker face, and it's proven to be effective because no one seems to realize how nervous he is. They may cause an international incident if anything goes "pear-shaped", as his old instructor Winslow used to say, but Tommy isn't about to back out now.

"This is Tommy, Tommy Kinard," says Howie to the other two, telling them about him being a former member of the 118 and also about his being a fathead. At least Howie acknowledges that Tommy's grown out of it.

"Thanks to you," Tommy says. He sticks out his hand to the new faces.

Soulful Eyes grins when he grasps Tommy's hand. A firm grip, almost challenging. "Eddie Diaz."

Tommy smiles, feeling like he's found a kindred spirit. "Pleasure. And you are...?" He extends the hand to the other young guy.

"Uh, Evan," he says, eyes wide and curious like a puppy in a new environment. His hand is warm and dry. "E-Evan Buckley."

"Hi Evan." The splotch just over Evan's left eye is a birthmark, Tommy discovers. To his amusement, Evan doesn't let go of his hand, as if he's completely forgotten that they were just shaking hands in introduction. Tommy doesn't want to embarrass the guy, but he doesn't want to rudely snatch his hand away either. He opts for a slight tease. "I'm gonna need that hand to fly the chopper, kid."

"Oh! Oh, right. Sorry." Evan drops Tommy's hand like it's hot. His ears go red. Tommy thinks, That's so cute, and then sternly warns himself not to read too much into anything. He's not falling for a straight guy again, just because they're cute. And he's glad that he doesn't read too much into Evan's fluster because Evan says, "I was just, um, thinking, about Cap and Thena."

Bobby Nash must mean a great deal to Evan, judging by the way his gaze skitters from Tommy's face to the chopper and bounces lightly on his heels. For some reason, he reminds Tommy of Bambi.

Howie sticks his hands in his pockets. "Yeah, we're gonna need Hen to show soon with some coordinates. Can't go flying all over the Gulf of Mexico."

Tommy makes a mental note to re-check fuel levels. It's definitely topped up, but ninety minutes one way and ninety minutes back in what will definitely be rough conditions is not a walk in the park. Nevertheless, he keeps his tone light. "We'll do what we can."

A pair of headlights slide along the road that leads to harbor. Tommy doesn't really know if it's Hen, but his nerve is starting to give, so he says quickly, "Wait, I see a car pulling in. Might be her. Get in the backseat, strap yourselves in. Once I get Hen clear of Melton, we'll dash. Hopefully she has a good cover story..."

Eddie doesn't hesitate as he scrambles in, nearly knocking his head on the roof of the chopper.

Seeing that they aren't about to call him out on his fake calm demeanor, Tommy blows out his cheeks to center himself. Then he smiles, asking, "If we're all arrested, can I blame it on you, Howie?"

Howie snorts as he gets in next to Eddie. "Yeah I really twisted your arm with the 'Please help us save Cap and Athena'."

(In fact, Howie actually said, "Hen has a hunch, she won't let us help, but she''ll need a chopper. So I'm gonna need you to steal one for us to save Captain Nash and his wife." And Tommy agreed instantly. He trusted Hen Wilson's hunches too.)

"You know it's because of your irresistibly pretty face," Tommy quips as he helps guide Evan - the tallest of the three - in without hitting his head. "Alright, put those helmets on. Careful, Evan," he says when Evan nearly bounces the helmet off the bridge of his sharp nose.

It's a very nice nose. Be a shame to bruise it.

Fuel. And preflight. Tommy inhales sharply and gets into his seat as the three firefighters strap themselves in. It's a calming ritual by now, and he feels ready. He knows he is ready.

And Hen should be here by now.

"Alright. She's ready to go when we are," Tommy announces, patting the stick fondly. As he opens the door to get to the hangar, he says to the three men, "Don't touch anything. I'm gonna hang out near Melton and run intercept."

Howie rolls his eyes. Eddie holds up three fingers of his right hand, like a Scout's promise. "We'll behave."

Evan beams a dazzling smile at Tommy, like they're not actually about to commit a crime.

It's a good thing Tommy has to focus on flying into a hurricane, because otherwise his heart will be tripping all over itself to get Evan to smile like that once more.

Nope. No crushing on a straight guy, Kinard, we've been through this.

Instead, Tommy jogs towards the hangar where he sees Hen approaching Melton, holding a form that Tommy knows will not stand up to scrutiny.

Boy, if you can't convince someone, confuse them, Winslow used to say over drinks after their flying lessons. Act like you know exactly what you're doing and seventy percent of the time they'll let you get away with it.

Tommy takes a deep breath, puts on a smile, and walks into the light of the hangar.

--

edited on AO3