#anyway enjoy love ya

[saturdaynightghostclub]

Leander Mason, Prince of Chicago

Leander Mason is late. Which is not necessarily unusual, but for the fact that he’s late to his own engagement party. Which consequently has made you late to your own engagement party.

You wouldn’t normally mind, you swear. Honestly, this party wasn’t either of your ideas. It came about three months after Leander’s hurried late-night proposal, after which you’d both sworn to keep the news under wraps from your respective families, at least until you’d ironed out the important details of the wedding. The date, the venue, the catering—these were things you wanted to take care of yourselves, refusing to leave the door open for family interference of any kind. Naturally, though, an eagle-eyed uncle of Leander’s spotted your engagement ring in a photo his too-thoughtful nephew had sent alongside some holiday card or other, and then the entire Mason clan knew, which meant you had to tell your parents, and then the combined force of your two unhinged families became too much to bear and you buckled, both of you, allowing them this one concession in exchange for a (theoretically) peaceful wedding-planning process. So really, you wouldn’t normally mind if you missed a few minutes of this whole ridiculous affair, only it happens that Leander Mason is late because he procrastinated picking up his dry cleaning, neglecting to consider that the dry cleaner is closed on Sundays, and cannot possibly think of a better solution than driving all the hell over Chicago in search of a suit jacket that matches the trousers he plans to wear. He called you from a phone booth an hour ago to let you know. If you’d left an hour ago, you might have been a few minutes early. If you leave right this second, you’ll be twenty minutes late.

It’s not that you’re in any rush to fraternize with your estranged family. On the contrary, you’d rather never see them again. But being that they’ve invaded Chicago like cicadas and are unlikely to leave without torturing you for at least an hour or two, you think you’d better just get it over with.

The crash of a gangly frame through your front door sets you alert, and you’re met with Leander, haloed by the glow of the hallway light, panting from exertion. No suit jacket to be seen.

“Hi, darling,” he breathes, crossing the room to kiss you on the forehead, “I’m sorry, I thought I could make it, but then Saks was closed, and I hit every red light on the way here, and—my god, you’re beautiful.”

You can’t help the smile that crosses your face. You do look stunning, if you do say so yourself. “Next time you send yourself on a wild goose chase to avoid our families, take me with you,” you reply.

“Roger,” he says, smiling apologetically before he bolts into your bedroom. When he comes out, his hair is artfully tousled and his dress shirt is pressed within an inch of its life. “Ready?” He asks, taking your face in his hands and examining it as if for signs of regret or apprehension. Both of which you feel in spades, for the record.

“Ready,” you confirm in spite of yourself, unable to keep the nerves from your voice. Leander kisses you hard.

“No matter what happens tonight,” he murmurs, eyes locked on yours, “we’ve got each other’s backs, deal? You are my priority, Professor.”

“Deal,” you nod. And then you’re in the car, and then you’re in a small hotel ballroom with, like, one million rich Midwesterners and twenty or so of your own confused family members, most of whom (yourself included) have never experienced an opulence of this magnitude.

Leander sticks close to you as you enter the party, long fingers stretched across the small of your back. Where you have complete tunnel vision, he’s scanning the crowd like a hunter in search of game. “Come here,” he mutters suddenly, pulling you gently but firmly toward him with a nasty look over his shoulder. You glance behind you to see which of his family members he’s shielding you from, only to lock eyes with your own father. Jesus, here we go.

You turn fully to face your father, ignoring Leander’s insistent tugging and efforts to pull you away. “Dad,” you say, keeping your voice impressively neutral.

“Hi, sweetheart!” Your father beams, moving as if to hug you. You take a reflexive step back, feeling Leander’s hands on your shoulders as you do. He knows the hell your family has put you through; hell, he’s probably angrier about it than you are at this point. Your father’s smile falters for a split second, and you instinctively fear the rage that will follow if he’s made to look foolish in public. “This the man who’s stolen you away from us?”

“This is Leander,” you say, refusing to indulge his comment which, though delivered with the cadence of a joke, is certainly intended to bite. Cool, calm, collected. Measured and calculated, even.

“How do you do,” comes Leander’s voice, deeper than usual, as he leans into your back to extend a steady hand. Your father shakes it evenly, Pan-Am smile firmly back in place. Before he can say anything though, Leander speaks again. “Love, we’ve got a lot of people to greet, yeah? Let’s do a lap, maybe catch up with Dad later?”

“What are you doing?” You hiss as Leander sweeps you away.

“Trust me, Professor,” he murmurs in response, face carefully neutral as he navigates the crowd, “I know men like him. He’s angry, right? He’s miserable, he’s mean?”

“Sure,” you say.

“Then let him be angry with me,” he says. You’ve reached the corner of the ballroom now, his fingers gently circling your wrist as he attempts to maintain a facade of casualty. “Let him think I’m keeping you from your family, or whatever he wants to tell himself. Better me than you.”

You’re formulating a response, trying to decide whether you want to start an argument or fall into his arms and sob, when a bony, manicured hand lands on Leander’s shoulder. He spins to face the woman trying to get his attention, who you recognize after a moment as his aunt Livia.

“You two are just adorable!” she exclaims in a frankly impressive misreading of the situation.

“Thank you,” Leander replies, exasperated once again. You can see the frustration rising in him, as it so often does when dealing with his family, and suddenly you’re a fish out of water. Actually, you’re a fish in the razor-sharp beak of an eagle, and the eagle is soaring over the city at warp speed, and you knew it would be intense, but you couldn’t have predicted how completely overwhelmed you’d be when it really came down to it. His family and yours. Clueless and cruel, two sides of a really, fantastically stupid coin.

Jesus, girl, you think, you raised yourself better than this. So you roll your shoulders back, inhale (cigarette smoke, whiskey, heat) and exhale (pure unadulterated rage), and enter survival mode. If Jerry Cantrell was born to wail on the guitar and Leander Mason was born to be a (beautiful, wonderful) thorn in your side, then you were born to navigate the psychic minefield of family dysfunction.

The next few hours pass–or maybe they don’t–in a haze of “Good to meet you” and “Yes, we’re very happy” and “Sure, I’ll call more.” You can feel Leander’s anxiety spiking, too preoccupied with your own to do anything about it. And then, like magic, you’re back in his car. His forehead is on the steering wheel, his entire body curled forward in an impressive display of defeat.

“Leander,” you say softly, laying a hand flat on his back. His response is a low, guttural groan that you think wouldn’t be entirely out of place in a medieval torture chamber. “Want to run away to Iceland?” you ask, only half-joking. The poor man has been needled within an inch of his life tonight, by his family and yours alike.

He barks out a surprised half-laugh, righting his posture to look at you. “Yeah,” he says. His voice is raw. “But we’re not going to, right?”

“I mean, I don’t see why not.”

“Alright, give me your elevator pitch.”

You grin in spite of yourself. “You, me, and a little apartment on a river. No family to speak of.”

“Well, we don’t exactly need to go all the way to Iceland to have that, do we?” He asks, lifting your hand to his lips from where it rests on the center console. You raise an eyebrow. “If it’s a river you want, we’ve got a perfectly good one right here in Chicago.”

“And our families?”

“Fuck ‘em,” he says, eyes steady on yours, “You and me, my love. We’re more family to each other than all the people in that ballroom combined.”

You lean into your seat, letting your head fall back. “Yeah,” you say softly.

Part of you always sort of wondered if you’d eventually regret cutting off your parents the way you did. But wouldn’t it have happened by now? It’s been almost a decade, and you’re just as angry with them as you were at eighteen. The only person in the world who’s managed to make you feel sane about the entire thing is sitting beside you in the driver’s seat, and if that makes you both assholes then fine, you’ll be assholes together. God, fuck ‘em. You’ve got your family. And you’re definitely fucking eloping.

[petite-phthora]

Please don't shake the cat

[DP x DC fic]

[Love at first... murder? - part 13]

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Part 1

Ao3

---

Private chat nicknames:

RedHood = Jason

Danny = Danny

---

Private chat

RedHood: *picture*

RedHood: this yours???

---

Seeing the picture of Ellie clamped onto Red Hood’s arm Danny lets out a sigh while rubbing his forehead. He takes a few seconds to look at the picture while deciding on how to reply.

---

Private chat

Danny: you don’t happen to be in Mexico right now by any chance, do you?

RedHood: No.

RedHood: I was out patrolling when I was suddenly bitten by her.

RedHood: Thought it might have been a criminal or stray cat or something like that at first.

RedHood: I was not expecting a feral teenager, but I can’t say this is the first time it’s happened.

Danny: damn, she was supposed to be in Mexico 😕😥

Danny: I guess this is what she was trying to tell me with that cryptic message she sent me huh

Danny: and the stray cat analogy isn’t too far off to be perfectly honest 🤔

RedHood: So you know her?

RedHood: Can you help me get her off? I’ve tried prying but she’s got some sick ass jaw strength.

RedHood: Which would have been pretty cool any other time, but it’s currently not really working in my favor.

Danny: I’m so sorry about her 😓 😓

Danny: we’ve been trying to teach her to ask for consent first

Danny: but it’s still a work in progress 😅

Danny: of course I'll help you get her off!! 😊🙃

RedHood: Great! You’re at your apartment, right?

RedHood: I’ll be there in two shakes.

Danny: please don’t shake the cat 😰

Danny: she’ll get grumpy and might latch on even tighter

Danny: I’ll come to you instead 🙃

Danny: you said you were patrolling, so crime alley, right? 🤔🤔

RedHood: Well, yes, but I doubt you’ll be able to get up where I am right now.

RedHood: Let me at least come down to the ground first and I’ll tell you how to get here.

RedHood: Danny?

---

Jason looks down at his unread messages with a slight frown. He puts his phone away and looks back at the teenager on his arm.

He gives his arm a small shake, causing her to growl at him which immediately makes him stop.

Right… No shaking the cat.

Jason lets out a weary sigh before looking down over the edge of the building to the ground below. He’s trying to think of the best way to get down with only one functional arm when a voice breaks him out of his reverie.

“Hey, Hood. I’m here!”

He turns around, slightly alarmed that there’s a second person who managed to sneak up on him tonight.

Damn, he’s getting rusty

Though from anyone whom he had been expecting to see, he had not been expecting to see the guy he messaged a minute ago standing behind him on the roof.

“How did you get here so quickly? And for that matter, how did you even get up here?” Jason asks confused.

“Oh, I flew” is Danny’s casual response, which gives Jason more questions than have been answered. But before he can decide whether he should bother asking for clarification Danny already moves on to the next topic.

“Anyway, let’s see what we can do about this,” he says, approaching Jason’s arm and the girl that’s hanging off of it.

“Good luck,” Jason says, holding out his arm a little better and watching bemused as Danny and the teen have a stare-down.

“Ellie, what did we say about biting others?”

The teen, Ellie, narrows her eyes and growls at him. Danny just crosses his arms and gives her an unimpressed stare.

“Nah-ah, you have to let him go. We ask before we bite someone. It’s called consent. Don’t make me get Jazz to give you another lecture”

It’s clear to Jason that Danny’s attempt at talking to her isn’t working when the teen proceeds to glance at Jason calculatingly before giving Danny a challenging look and biting down harder.

Apparently, it’s clear to Danny as well, as the next thing he does is let out a put-upon sigh before declaring “Well, I gave you a chance. Guess we’ll have to do this the hard way”

Danny then grabs a hold of her and tries pulling her off of him.

What is his life? Jason thinks as he’s standing there while Danny tries to physically pull the teenage girl, who decided his arm looked like a nice snack, off of him.

Though luckily for him, it seems to work as not a few seconds later Danny has pulled her off of his arm and is now holding the teenage girl with a bloody mouth up by her armpits.

Danny sets her down with a sigh but before he can speak up, the teen crosses her arms and levels Jason with a sharp look that makes him straighten up.

“Thou winneth this round, Red-Helmed Knight of the Night. Though thou should be prepareth, as the upcoming trials will be even more toilsome” Ellie declares while pointing at him, uncaring of the blood on her face.

“And I,” She points a finger back at herself for emphasis, ”Sir Ellie of the Infinite Realms, will—” she gets cut off when a fly enters her mouth.

Danny moves to help her but she holds up a hand to stop him, using her other hand to thump on her chest a few times.

She spits the dislodged fly out onto the floor and glares at it.

“Curse you! Foiling my monologuing once again!” she yells after the fly as it flies off.

Right…

Jason turns to Danny.

“So is she your sister?” he asks curiously. And totally not trying to fish for more information about Danny and his family.

Instead of Danny answering the question though, Ellie cuts him off.

“I’m his love child with the mayor of our town.”

Danny gives her a disgusted look.

“Ellie—”

She looks back at Danny with a shit-eating grin on her face.

Yeah, definitely siblings.

“I love my dads!” she says proudly, her eyes still on Danny.

Danny gives her a deadpan look in response before it changes to a more mischievous one.

“Oh, I’m sure Vlad would love to hear all about how you reclaimed him as a father figure—”

“Oh Ancients, no. Don’t even joke about that” She fake gags at him before turning back to Jason.

“Can I change my answer? I’m his bodyguard” She says, pointing her thumb at Danny.

That makes both Danny and Jason raise an eyebrow at her, though Jason’s can’t be seen through the helmet. They speak up at the same time.

“A bodyguard, huh?”

“No, you’re not, that’s Frighty”

Danny’s statement makes Jason pause and turn to look at him.

He’s got a bodyguard?

Ellie shakes her head happily.

“Nope! I took over the position. My knightly title isn’t just for show, y’know? I earned it fair and square!”

“When did this even happen? And why was I not told?” Danny asks, bewilderment covering his face.

Jason stays silent as he tries to make sense of the conversation.

“About…” Ellie takes a moment to think about it “3 months ago? I think it was when you were dealing with some time chores. And I thought it’d be a nice surprise, so… Surprise!” she exclaims, doing some jazz hands at the end of the sentence.

“What did you even do?”

“I snuck up on him and threw a Fenton Wii remote at his head which knocked him out cold. It counted as a win so I earned the position by right of conquest and gained my knighthood” She says with a shrug.

“Huh… think that would’ve worked for Pariah Dark as well? Would’ve made things so much easier…”

Ellie gives another careless shrug as Danny lets out a small reminiscent sigh. Meanwhile, Jason stands awkwardly to the side.

“Well, either way, I’m proud of you. Do you have a video?”

“Tucker filmed it for me, yeah”

“Nice”

They high-five with grins on their faces. At this point, Jason lets out a small cough which has the Fenton siblings turn around startled and proceed to then give him identical sheepish smiles.

They really look like they could be twins…

“Ah, sorry Red Hood. And again, I’m sorry for Ellie.” Danny says, rubbing the back of his neck with a small blush on his face.

“I’ll take her back home. And uhh… see you next time?”

Jason gives him a smile from under his helmet.

“Sure, if you’re still up for that next date?” Jason trails off with some hope.

His words make Danny’s blush darken.

“Ah uh, yeah! Yeah, of course! The next date! Uhmm, I’ll text you! Or you can text me. That’s fine too!”

Next to him, Ellie rolls her eyes and makes some fake gagging motions. She then grabs Danny by his arm and starts dragging him away.

“Come on, Loverboy. You can and your paramour can flirt later. When I’m not there… and after he’s passed my trials” she says, muttering the latter part low enough that Jason can’t hear. But, judging by the way Danny’s head snaps back to her and how his brows furrow, he did hear.

Just as Jason goes to reply, giving them a thank you and a goodbye of his own, perhaps even an offering to help them get down from the roof, he picks up on movement behind him.

Quickly turning around has him regretting not leaving the rooftop earlier, as he watches the Bats (and birds) land.

Fuck.

---

Taglist:

@i-always-say-yea   @uraniumwizard    @why-must-i-be-like-this   @griffinthing @i23432i @imsotiredfanficlovertm

[aroaessidhe]

2024 reads / storygraph

Road To Ruin

start of a postapocalyptic fantasy series set in an Asian-inspired desert world plagued by dangerous storms

follows a courier who transports romantic letters between a prince and princess, who helps the princess escape across the wastes towards the prince’s safe haven

but they’re pursued by bounty hunters, and accidentally uncover some ancient secrets. and also she’s in love with both of them

dinosaurs, magical motorbikes,

bi MC, start of polyam triad

[what-is-it-to-be-pk-esque]

Ok I know I'm heavily biased here but like I kinda love that Astarion's romance is one of the few in this type of video game where you basically end up canonically unmarried and childfree in his "good" ending? Just travelling the world??

Like it's honestly the millennial dream lmfaoo cannot believe i chose what would undoubtedly be my favorite option, first try

[wexhappyxfew]

you, me, and the stars

(a/n): judy x rosie girlies, this is for you!! this is for all the ones who have never been in love, who are trying to protect the last parts of themselves in the face of others, and for the ones deserving of love!! these two represent all those awkward, newly-found emotions and feelings, that surprise even themselves, so please enjoy! :)

Judy had dwindled into down to just this; home was more of a feeling, not entirely a place.

The flak house was beautiful, an escape, somewhere to get one's mind off of the mental torment that was the God-forsaken war they all seemed stuck in.

But, it wasn't Thorpe Abbotts; with its metallic scent of air, voices and grinding machine parts echoing at all hours of the day, the marching, the footsteps, the way the air danced through the tree leaves. The flak house was quiet, save for the occasional flight path overtop. Thorpe Abbotts was loud and enough to make you feel like your brain was being knocked about inside, but it was home in a way the flak house wasn't.

The thing that made Thorpe Abbotts feel like home was especially the people. All the men in the 100th, their leaders both lost and MIA, and the women of Silver Bullets.

It was just like her home, in North Carolina. With Ma and Pa, that large house on the river, big meals to feed all six kids, making sure the lambs, chickens and cows were kept up with, that laundry was hung, crops harvested, plates and bowls washed in the river.

They didn't have much, but they had each other.

And even across the ocean they still did - in more ways than one.

Now, Judy felt them even in the women beside her. Strong and courageous, putting on their brave faces against the waging war of the world. Something her family had done ever since they'd come to America.

"The stars are so bright out here," Bessie said from Judy, their arms interlinked, sat side by side on the steps in front of the flak house, the light dripping out from the main door where cool, night air rushed in,

"I almost wish Tommy could see it." Judy looked towards her with a small smile.

"He does," Judy whispered quietly, reaching a hand forward to gently brush her hand over Bessie's calloused palm, "where ever he is right now. He sees it. Maybe not this instance, but he does." She watched Bessie smile, the corners of her lips turning upward, before she glanced over at Judy, a big grin on her face, her eyes glowing, the softest they'd been in days, the least stressed Judy had seen the navigator.

"You know, when we were kids," Bessie started, "we sat in his parents' apartment, right by one of the windows and watched the stars one night, all night practically, side by side. Not only was it my first kiss, but…he also told me he'd name a star after me. I think he named it 'Bee'….something or other." Judy giggled into Bessie's side and clasped a hand over her mouth with a gleeful smile.

"You two were meant to be," Judy whispered quietly, "everything you say, about him, about you, about the two of you together. God, you'll make the cutest babies, Bessie, I'll tell ya." Now, it was Bessie's turn to laugh and shook her head.

"You know he told me one time that if he had a daughter, he'd name her Charlotte," Bessie said, "he thought the nickname, Charlie, would be cute."

"Taste." Judy said with a laugh, nudging Bessie's side, "Charlotte McKenzie has a ring to it."

"And so does Bessie McKenzie." Bessie said back, sending the two of them into a fit of chuckles under the moving dusk. They fell quiet for a beat and then Bessie sighed and wrapped an arm around Judy's side, giving her a tight squeeze and rubbing her shoulder.

"Well, I'm heading up, going to get some rest and enjoy waking up and drinking coffee without having to hear a bunch of bullshit from Blakely," Bessie said with a chuckle, "you good out here? Staying up a bit?" Judy smiled and wrapped her arms around her sides and nodded.

"Yeah, just a bit more," Judy said, "you go though, I'll be up in a bit. And…Bessie?" Bessie watched her as she stood and sent her a smile.

"Just...give Lieutenant Bradshaw an extra hug for me," Judy said sadly, "her eyes looked like she'd been crying all night. About Captain Brady, so….incase I get in late, just do that for me, please?" Bessie smiled at her and nodded.

"You think she loves him?" Bessie asked Judy. Judy stilled.

"I don't know a whole lot about love, but I know he looks at her like she's the only woman in the room," Judy said softly, "and she gets all blushy around him, all soft and sweet. I like to think the universe doesn't just do things for the hell of it." Ripping them from each other, Judy thought to herself. Bessie grinned and then looked at her sadly.

"Try and get some rest," Bessie said, "don't stay up too late, okay? You need to keep yourself well-rested. Goodnight, honey."

"Night, Bes." Judy called after her, watching Bessie offer her a smile and then disappear inside. Judy smiled softly, looking forward again towards the oncoming darkness and comfort of nightfall, the singing birds and bugs all around and sighed.

Lieutenant Bradshaw's eyes looked sadder more often than not, but she was trying and that's all the credit a person like Annie Bradshaw needed - that she was being seen.

To be seen, was to be loved.

"Hey," Judy looked over her shoulder and was almost surprised to see Rosie Rosenthal there, coming towards her from the doorway, hands in his pant pockets, his A-2 jacket over his shoulders and a soft smile on his face, "mind if I join you?" Judy watched him for a moment - he looked so….different, a nice different. A different that made her think they weren't in war for a second.

"Of course, sir," Judy said, watching as he came forward and settled down on the step beside her where Bessie had been, "come to watch the stars?" Rosie let out a chuckle and then glanced towards her, his face bathed in blues and purples from the night, his eyes like a doe's as he watched her.

"You could say that." he said, then he grinned, nodding at her,

"How've you been?" Judy watched him, unable to contain the grin wanting to grow on her face and then chuckled lightly.

"Good," she said, and then smiled nervously, "sir, uh, good, being away from base, it's been….a breath of fresh air, I'll admit. Just, not having to get those planes going in the morning, get in the ball turret and shoot, over and over. It's nice to just….." she watched as he watched her, "be."

"Good," Rosie said, his voice light, "good, good, I'm glad. Really. You've all been putting out the last few months. I know that - Pappy's been talking Kennedy's ear off and well…."

"Collateral damage." Judy supplied and Rosie nodded with a small chuckle, looking down at his hands in his lap.

"Exactly, exactly," Rosie said and then glanced up at her, "I'm just glad the Silver Bullets crew is getting some deserved rest. All of you."

"Thank you, sir." Judy said, her voice tender, watching him in a moment of seriousness that was different than a few seconds previous.

He watched her for a moment, just taking in the feeling it seemed, the same she was allowing herself to feel in her heart. They both seemed to come to at the same time and smiled, laughs leaving both their lips as Judy shyly looked away and crossed her arms.

"I'm sorry, Judy, are you, uh, cold?" Rosie asked leaning forward a bit, and placing a hand on her shoulder, "October's never been a great month for short sleeves." Judy watched him, looking between his face, his hand and him. Short sleeves, right, she was in that right now. And freezing; he was right. How'd he know? She glanced down at her short sleeves, her right side hidden beneath his hand and then looked to him, his face full of worry and seriousness. And then she let out a shy laugh and blushed quickly and then nodded.

"A bit, but," she shook her head, "I was planning to go upstairs in a bit anyway, so, it's okay."

"Here," Rosie said quickly, shrugging himself out of his A-2 and then leaning to his side to lay it over her shoulders, "just to warm up." And warm up she did in fact do; to the point, she was blushing all over and inhaling the scent from his jacket and him beside her and suddenly very overwhelmed with his presence. Alright, so it was a stupid feeling she had been trying to hide, but it was a feeling she had never felt all too well. And in a war, she wasn't sure what to even feel. But right now, with this jacket and him beside her, she wasn't as eager to head up to bed anymore.

"Thank you," she said softly, grasping the edges and then looking at him, "I appreciate it really." Rosie watched her with that tender gaze of his again before leaning back a bit and looking up.

"You can really see the stars from here," he said, his voice a small bit of astonishment and adornment for the world above them, glowing with the life of the night, shining little orbs so far away they'd never be able to actually grasp them, "they're beautiful."

"Yeah," Judy said, her eyes traveling back up to the night sky above them, "sitting in the darkness, on the ground, staring at the stars? It's almost like home." She could feel Rosie staring now, and glanced his way. Something so harrowing, yet nostalgic in a way. A mixture of feelings lingering between them at her simple statement - thoughts of home, seemingly so far away now, a place that'd be changed in a thousand different ways by the time they did actually got home - if they got home.

"Where is home?" he asked quietly, leaning to his side to bump her shoulder. She laughed quietly.

"North Carolina." she said, glancing at him in the quiet - she could practically hear him breathing. It was so … comforting.

"A tiny town," she admitted, "nothing big, a river, a general market, a wood mill, friends here and there down the road. But it was home." Judy looked over slowly towards Rosie beside her and quirked out a smile as she saw him sitting there, grinning.

"What?" she said grinning, "Where you from?"

"Brooklyn." he said, looking at her. Judy's face hurt from smiling, but it was okay because it was Rosie.

"Brooklyn," Judy said with a soft smile, "never really been in one of those big cities."

"You'd like it," Rosie said, looking out towards the darkness, "you'd fit right in. Bright lights, the people, the music. All of it." He looked at her. Judy smiled and pulled her knees to her chest, and glanced towards him again.

"Music, huh?" she asked him and he looked at her with a smile.

"Yeah, can't sing real well, but my mom, my sisters, they're pretty good. Far better than me," he said with a nod, and then grinned, "still love music though. You can never go wrong with Artie Shaw." Judy smiled, her thoughts consumed with the idea of what a younger version of this Rosie could've been, home with his family, dancing and attempting to sing. Far away from war and fear and grief. She liked the thought of that at some point, they were all like that. Young, youthful and free.

"Did you do a lot of music and dancing before the war then?" Judy asked him quietly, with a hopeful smile, watching as he comprehended her sentence and then let out a small smile. He shook his head and then leaned forward on his bent knees.

"I was a lawyer before the war actually," Rosie said and Judy's eye widened in near amazement, "yeah, was doing that and then the war broke out. Couldn't just sit back and do nothing." His face grew serious at that last statement and then melted as he looked at her.

"What about you? What was the thing Judy Rybinski was doing before this whole thing started?" he asked, leaning forward, with genuine curiosity and she watched him before letting out a laugh and shaking her head.

"I'm afraid nothing as cool as being a lawyer," she admitted and she watched Rosie's face soften as he tilted his head towards her, "but I was 3 years removed from high school, didn't have money for college so….I worked in the local mechanics, fixing cars, boats, anything and everything. Learning what I could. Made some good money, too." Judy watched him and sighed.

"But….I always dreamed of getting to go to college, continue to learn, allow myself to grow," she said, her thoughts swimming back to that time her parents told her they didn't have enough to help get her through schooling and Judy had cried herself to sleep and then gathered herself together and gone to the mechanic to start learning some trade, "maybe get a job teaching. Maybe geography or something of that sort….I don't know. One day, that's the goal." Rosie stayed watching her, his eyes holding her gaze as she looked at him.

"You should go for it," Rosie told her, "when the war is over, I mean. You'd be a great teacher, great with kids, getting to teach, you just…." Rosie cut himself off for a moment and then smiled at her, suddenly looking more shy and unsure of himself than in recent minutes. Judy watched him, her cheeks warming slightly at his encouragement and genuine thought. It made her stomach twist pleasingly. Rosie let out a nervous laugh and then looked at her, crossing his arms and leaning against his upbent knees.

"You're just someone I like being around," Rosie admitted quickly, running a hand behind his neck and then glancing at her, "and I think you'd be someone good at teaching kids. And being a teacher so….I think you should go for it." Judy was watching him, her cheeks all crimson and her heart racing and for a moment, she caught his gaze and she saw things that made her heart race faster.

Rosie Rosenthal was equally someone she liked being around, but the thought of telling him that made her sweaty and panicky and she figured she'd embarrass herself, so instead, she blushed further and smiled.

"Thank you, sir," she said quietly, and then let out a small laugh, "sorry, it's just….I haven't really told many people that, so…it just means a lot - the support I mean." Rosie smiled at her and nodded.

"You deserve good things after this war, Judy," Rosie said and then swallowed, "all of us do." Judy watched him, this urge to reach out and brush her palm against his cheek inviting her closer, a wish to curl up beside him and let the stars stare down at them, the need for human touch, to be looked at and loved.

By Rosie.

"You too, sir," she said quietly, her smile soft, "only the best." This staring, these lingering glances, they seemed to be whatever they couldn't say and just that look in his eyes made her blush further. Judy tried to control her racing heart, and her breath, and then cleared her throat.

"I think I'll be heading up now," Judy said, and pressed her palms against her cheeks and then sighed and looked to him, "Bessie said she'd braid my hair and I don't want to keep her up."

"Of course," Rosie said, standing to his feet and then offering his own hand towards her, which she took rather quickly, and then stood there, staring up at him like a goof, "try and get some rest tonight, alright?"

"You too," she said, and then chuckled, "sorry, Lieutenant Bradshaw said she couldn't sleep last night and it ended up being the two of you down here, with Doc, unable to fall asleep, just talking and stuff. So….yeah, just, you too, sir." Rosie laughed at her words and then schooled his facial expressions again.

"Thanks, Judy."

Staring at him, she couldn't constrain what she felt and stood on her tiptoes, before placing a small kiss to his cheek, and then turned and walked away, as fast as her feet could carry her and up the stairs, towards the room she was sharing with Bessie. Her mind raced, her thoughts knocking at the edges of her brain as she hurried in, shut the door, and let out a sigh, before turning to the two beds, where Bessie was sat up in one, reading a book and staring at her, confused.

"Since when did you get a jacket….like that?" Bessie said, raising a brow, "And that, large?" Judy blushed and then tried to speak and choked on her air a bit before clearing herself up.

"It's just Lieutenant Rosenthal's," she said, stepping forward and settling on the side of her bed to take her shoes off, "he saw me outside, gave it to me because he said I looked cold."

"Judith Rybinski," Bessie, sitting up and then practically launching out of the bed to sit beside her, "you're blushing like a loon! What happened?" Judy looked at Bessie, her heart pounding, her thoughts racing, emotions running high in far too many wacky ways. Bessie watched her excitedly, but then slowly let her face fall and wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

"I think he's just being nice," Judy whispered quietly and then shook her head, "and then I gave him a kiss on the cheek because I wasn't thinking-"

"-a kiss? On the cheek?"

"Yes, yes, a kiss on the cheek, it was stupid, he was just trying to be nice-"

"Giving you his jacket in this cold is never just him being nice, Judy-"

"It's a part of it-"

"But not all of it!" Bessie said and looked at her, and smirked, "He probably wants to you know….get to know you more." Judy stared at her and then let her shoulders fall and shook her head.

"No….I don't think so," Judy said and then crossed her arms and bit back her lip, "and plus, did you know he was a lawyer before the war? Bes, he's probably, I don't know, someone from some sort of money to do that sort of thing, ya know? My family comes from people who've lived on the streets, we showered once a week as kids. What am I thinking?" Judy ran her hands over her face and sighed, before squeezing her eyes shut.

"It's stupid," Judy said quietly, "it's just a stupid crush, it'll go away. He's just being nice, and I latched onto that because a nice guy, is a nice guy. But that's it. And….it's fine. I'll be fine." She grew quiet and watched as Bessie stared at her, eyes full of that lingering worry.

"It's not a stupid crush, alright?" Bessie told her, "You're allowed to feel that and if someone's ever told you otherwise, they're the stupid ones. He clearly is someone who is interested, too, Judy. Don't discredit that about yourself. You're one of the sweetest peaches I've ever met. And someone like that? You deserve that." Judy looked over at Bessie and then offered a small smile.

"Thank you, Bessie," Judy said, leaning to her side to pull Bessie into a hug, "you're too nice to me." Bessie chuckled into the hug and patted her back.

"You deserve it, Judy." Bessie said, "A whole lot of things, but sweetness is one of the many."

[paperbagzz]

Please write absolutely ANYTHING about simon being constantly teased by the reader ie: wearing a low cut shirt, purposefully stretching and moaning around him and things of the sort I'll die happy, unless you don't write nsfw adjacent stuff pls don't ever feel pressured to do that

oml yes- i don't usually write nsfw things, but uhh we can make exceptions.. >:) anon, i hope you enjoy this; you're so kind for asking whether i write things like that or not beforehand <3

------

Simon walked into the living room to see Y/N sitting on the couch, the cushions dipping beneath their weight. They were on their phone, scrolling absent-mindedly. Something caught Simon's eye as he looked at them; they were wearing a rather.. showing.. shirt. The article of clothing was frayed in certain areas, exposing quite a bit of Y/N's chest.

With a slightly embarrassed face, Simon tilted his head at them. "Uh, hey, Y/N..! I see you went shopping?"

Y/N glanced up from their phone with a small smirk, taking a break from the Internet to talk with their roommate. They nodded. "Yep! Do ya like it..?" There was a slightly different tone to their voice as they spoke with him, and Simon sighed, sitting next to them with a grunt.

"Yes, but it's.. revealing, at the very least." He said quietly, his face a bit more red than before, his eyes refusing to meet Y/N's.

Y/N chuckled, moving closer to him with a slight groan; when they inched near Simon, there was a noticeable change in the tension of his muscles. Y/N was enjoying this, in a strange, teasing, manner. They could step it up a bit..

As Simon clicked the remote, turning the TV on, Y/N adjusted themselves a bit more, placing their exposed flesh onto Simon's clothed chest. Although his eyes were focused on the bright television, you could tell he was dying to look at you. As he spoke, there was a note of strain in his usually soft voice;

"What would you like to watch, Y/N, hm..?"

Y/N shrugged. "Anything, I don't really mind." They pressed themselves progressively closer to Simon, pushing their exposed chest closer against his upper body. The tension rose in the man's arms, and his face was rather red. In a teasing tone, Y/N murmured, "Anything wrong, dear Simon?"

Simon gave a low, almost inaudible, chuckle. His head shook, and he slowly placed a hand on your hair, ruffling it slightly. He really couldn't help himself, honestly, and you didn't mind. "No, nothings wrong, Y/N, I'm doing quite pleasantly, actually."

He smiled, and you noticed his face turn towards you. Y/N let out a small moan at his touch, and Simon raised his eyebrows, but continued to stroke your hair softly. You continued to make small noises and suggestive murmurs, but at this point, he didn't mind at all. You could moan and groan all night, and he would enjoy every moment of it.

Simon set the TV to one of his favorites: Cheers. The two of you cuddled for the majority of the night, listening to the quiet hum of the television.

[batssybaby]

u ever wondered how a sane person would react to seeing batman and the joker doing their odd shit and then fucking nasty?

do i have the fic for u (14.2k)

[melted-snowperson]

picrew chain thingy!!

me fr vs me in my head

tags:

@thinkingaboutctommy @paldeanbooper @b0nejaangles @pancakewithamace and anyone else who wants to join!!

using: https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/644129

[crybaby-bkg]

Dabi is surprisingly a lightweight. You honestly would’ve never figured by looking at him, but as you think back on it, you’ve never really seen him drink a lot. Not when there were celebratory parties, or when things didn’t go right for him. It’s why you’re so shocked when you convince two shots into his system, why he suddenly looks so loose, why his grin splits so wide.

He’s a clinger, you’ve also learned as you’ve started observing the blue eyed man where he shoves his face into the crook of your neck. His body bends over almost uncomfortably to fit into the position, and you can’t help but flinch a little when his damp breath blows a quiet little raspberry on your flesh.

omg wait my favorite thought is of you not even necessarily being a heavyweight, you can just handle your liquor a little better than anyone expects. you love to knock back drink after drink, convince Dabi into some stupid competition that he falls for because he’s such a little nerd and secretly wants to impress you. he does it thinking you’ll be the drunk one first, the one hanging off of his arm and hopefully his dick by the end of the night.

it belatedly shocks him when it’s the exact opposite. when he’s slurring a little and smiling at you, when you watch him through low eyes with a wide grin, when he wraps himself around you like a python, when you shake his face gently as you squish his cheeks together in hand. he’s just so utterly obsessed with you in these moments, and maybe it’s the liquor in him, but he knows his lowered inhibitions are only bringing forth the feelings he’s always suppressed.

drunk sex with Dabi where he’s the one too loose limbed and limp and weak. he flops onto bed like some rag doll with his arms and legs spread wide, but he musters up enough strength to release the heavy weight of his cock from its confinements. doesn’t do much besides lift his head from the pillows with a point to his crotch and a lazy grin, an announcement of, go ahead and hop on already before he’s flopping back down again, ready to lay back and get fucked like how he knows he deserves.

[edwardwonghaupepelutivrusky4th]

technically if it's not simmered in the champagne region of france it's a sparkling best boy friend

[brainfilehasstoppedworking]

Amy Rose, I love you. You're just like me. They could never make me hate you 🫶🫶

[im-still-watching-anime]

one piece is crazy fr like what do you mean you’re following up Everyone’s Dead™️ with Objectifying Women: The Arc™️

[cautiously0ptimistic]

𝕄𝕪, 𝕞𝕪, 𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕤𝕖 𝕖𝕪𝕖𝕤 𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕖;                                          𝕀'𝕞 𝕒 𝕨𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕖𝕕 𝕚𝕟𝕤𝕖𝕔𝕥—                                                                            𝕐𝕠𝕦'𝕣𝕖 𝕒 𝕗𝕦𝕟𝕖𝕣𝕒𝕝 𝕡𝕪𝕣𝕖.

[ineffable-doll]

"It’s Not Too Bad When You Get Used to It" by IneffableDoll

T, 8 chapters

CHAPTER 1: 3.3k

Following Armageddon’s failure, Aziraphale and Crowley perform the bodyswap, prepared to be captured by Heaven and Hell. But after both factions fail to show up the next day, the angel and demon must pretend to be the other for much longer than anticipated… Hilarity ensues, feelings are felt, and no one anticipated so much breakfast being involved. But that’s ineffability for you. * Prewritten; will update every three days until completion. Come back on December 29th to binge!

A silly romp of Aziraphale and Crowley poorly playacting as each other, with fluff and feels because I can't help myself. Queerplatonic, aroace, lots of banter and humor! Book vibes and characterization with season one canon.

[kakusu-shipping]

Finally got my Mario Shipping chart together!

Despite having the least amount of characters compared to my past shipping charts, this one took a lot longer to format sense the main 5 are all connected in a big square. I ended up having to leave out Mario and Bowser’s dynamic and make the Just Platonics it’s own chart to get everything to actually flow correctly. 

Sense it’s so few characters though I added in everyone’s opinions on who they’re connected to so you can get a better sense of the dynamic. Let me know if it’s hard to read in any way and I’ll add a transcript under the cut to make it easier.

[b0nkcentral]

drew myself in @a-scary-lack-of-common-sense’s artstyle! because holy fuck do i love it