#he's so tired of 'having one of those days' hes so tired of never being able to do enough to Be enough

[steor-ra]

Bring back the dead

Y!batfam x neglected!Gn

(I do not own any characters named mentioned! )

Being a Wayne had disadvantages, especially as the forgotten child of your father. You aren't supposed to be born, your mother isn't supposed to conceive, and you're not supposed to be linked to Bruce Wayne.

Yet here you are

You may not exist to your father, brothers, or sisters, relying solely on the butler for emotional support that your family has never provided since the day you arrived at the house. However, you do exist in the eyes of the media, scandalized by the fact that your mother was a whore who was snatched away by the drug she had consumed since the day you were born; your mother did not want you.

Growing up, you kept that information buried deep within you, along with the notion that your father never wanted you. No one in the family does. No matter what you do, how you do it, or where you do it, they will never bat an eye at you. Get it? Because they're a bat vigilante, so it's ironic that they will never be the bat hero that they are to you, and instead be the devils who made you occasionally ponder if you were born simply to be a ghost to someone who made you.

Haha

And now you live with the fact that your family will never come to you; they don't have the reason now that you're all independent and working for yourself with Alfred's long-term support. You don't expect them to come and help you, not even in costume.

Being a Wayne means dealing with villains who know Batman's secret identity and use it to kidnap his most vulnerable child and threaten the bat, or criminals who use you for ransom for a large sum of money, but you already knew how to handle it from all those years, and you already knew how to handle these situations because of all the years they occurred, and you've always managed to escape them without the help of your vigilante brothers and sisters.

It stings to know that there is no chance that your siblings will genuinely spend a moment of your time rather than brushing you off with a sheepish apology and a pat on the back using the same old justifications. They're busy.

Adding some promises that will always be broken again and again and again Until there's no hope for you to tug on.

As for your father, Bruce. He is too busy with two of his lives to even acknowledge you. Despite being the greatest detective of all, he never appears to recognize you among your siblings. Always rejecting you without even looking at you, too preoccupied with continuing to read his important papers to notice how his own child is rapidly dissapearing from his life.

Dick Grayson, your brother who has the potential to notice you but never does. You understand that his duties are in Bludhaven, and that he only visits the manor for whatever purpose, and you hate that one of them was because of Damian. Bonding with his newly added sibling and assisting the child in adjusting to his new surroundings. Doing all the things that he never did with you when you were a small child, hell, even younger than Damian, when you were first brought to the manor. Dick, the guy who adores his family but never looks twice at you.

Tim, just like bruce, that guy is always tired because he never leaves his duties as a vigilante, is too busy to care for Bruce's neglected child, and would rather uncover some unsolved cases than acknowledge the person who can heal him and the family dysfunction, but you don't hate him for his negligence. Aside from being the red Robin, you don't know much about him, and he's more of a stranger to you than an acquaintance. Isn't this sad? That is why he will not come to mind when you eventually decide to leave the manor without looking back; in fact, none of them will.

While Jason Todd have the chance to be forgiven by you because, out of all your "siblings," he has more fond memories with you than any of them, despite the fact that he rarely visits the manor. However, he is more of an acquaintance than a personal friend to you. But at least you know him better than Tim. Jason is the most difficult and easiest to grasp, so you'll feel more at ease with him should they decide to take notice of you and kidnap you back to the mansion.

Finally, Damian, the demon sent by the cosmos to make your life miserable, is not ignoring you like your other brothers; he is there solely to mock you until you die. Always harassing and degrading you in the manor's hallways, calling you names and talking about how you are undeserving of walking through this house because you are just an accident caused by a whore and his father, calling you weak because you can't defend yourself against someone younger than you and instead choose to ignore him and run away. You've never loathed someone so much that you'd die to be rid of them; you despise Damian Wayne, your own blood brother.

You tried to be the best siblings for him, fantasizing about how you two would bond, spending sleepless nights planning how you'd take advantage of your chance to finally have siblings in the manor despite having so many, only to be heartbroken by his heartless rejection of your offer.

And of course there's Barbara, Stephanie, duke and Cassandra but you never really got the chance to get to know them that much since you've already left the manor for good.

Leaving no trace of your existence.

Living alone in Gotham is difficult; there are too many risks everywhere you go, especially as a Wayne, and even if you've tried to distance yourself from any ties to being a Wayne, you can't simply make the media forget about the infamous but forgotten accidental child of playboy billionaire Bruce Wayne. Only Batman, your father, can, but he won't since he doesn't care; you don't need his help anyhow. You already learned how to protect yourself against the crooks of Gotham ever since you realized that no matter what happened, Batman wouldn't save you from it, therefore that's why you always carry a knife with you, and with the help of material art, you learnt not too long ago.

You're not that confident walking through the streets of Gotham though. There's many people who could recognize you for being Bruce Wayne's child, so they'll swarm on you, asking multiple questions. 

'Why are you walking all alone?'

'Where is your father? '

'Is it true that you're the biological child of bruce Wayne'

'Where is your mother now? Is she still roaming on the underground and whoring herself out?'

They'll laugh that your face and will continue to ask multiple questions that your teenage mind couldn't even comprehend as you've always thought the same thing

There's also some time where you've been kidnapped for ransom, only there when bruce declines their call on your phone multiple times that they'll realize that you're not worth it, so, they'll let you go as you question your worth.

But you're strong. You don't need bruce to save your ass like how he does to your siblings despite them being professional on fighting unlike you.

Oh, god. why are you so selfish? They fight villain's who could actually kill you meanwhile you're just handling some thugs that could be knocked out with their single punch. Stop complaining.

Would they like me better if I was kidnapped by someone more villainous like the joker or Scarecrow? Would they actually care if I die right now?

they wont wouldn't they?

You've been held captive in a warehouse in the middle of nowhere for an amount of $2 million. Your limbs are currently tightly roped together, with no way to release them. You tried two hours ago, but it is still not moving. You can only beg the gods to allow Bruce to answer the call they've been trying to send him, but it's always been denied.

You can't help but let out another sob as you hear the call being sent to voicemail instead.

The kidnapper lets out a frustrated sound when the phone is declined again, "Alright! If this motherfucker doesn't answer one more time, I am going to torture you alright, sweetie?" It smirks and rolls in a tray of equipment, which you think is the torture instruments, sending shivers down your spine as the silver's shone upon your eyes.

"If your big ol daddy don't pick up this call, you're dead."

Dad, please... i don't want to die...

The manor felt more lonely than it ever was. The hallways felt like a never-ending tunnel, and the silence felt so uncomfortable for all of them that they couldn't help but squirm slightly in their seats.

Dick felt like something is missing...He doesn't feel that nagging feeling about talking to you for months now...

Oh yeah.

You, when was the last time he checked on you? Why can't he remember your voice or...or...The way you look?

Fuck, it's been a year since he checked on you huh?

So he checked each door one by one; the more he checked, the more guilty he felt for not knowing where your room was, and suddenly, it struck him... All of these rooms look the same; don't you decorate yours or even mark it as yours!?

He panicked. Do you even live in the manor? Where is your room, you didn't mention anything about leaving—ah!

He could just ask Alfred! Yeah, and he'll lead him to your room where he'd greet you and ask how your day was...

What exactly are you doing right now? He's ashamed to admit it, but he couldn't recall any occasions when you two would hang out; did he ever try to approach you? I do not think so. He'll make sure that will change as soon as he Sees you, whether you like it or not. right now, he needs to make up for all of his negligent behavior over the years. In fact, he'll remind Bruce and the rest of his siblings of your existence so that nothing will bother him anymore.

"Alfred!" Dick's lone hope of finding you stood out in all its grandeur, with a somber expression on the butler's face. Maybe Alfred knows where you are? He is the only individual who has ever been close to anyone joined to the Batfamily, so perhaps he does.

"Yes master dick? I assume you stand of need for something?"

"Um yeah– Alfred," he stammered. "Do you know where...y/n's room is?" The way your name sounds foreign on his tongue makes him want to rip it out.

"Young Master has left the manor a year ago, Master Dick. I've completely forgotten where their room is, considering it's the same as the rest of the guests rooms"

A year ago? he checked on you a year ago did he not? Why didn't he notice anything...that day.

Oh god, his baby sibling wouldn't survive outside of gotham. What makes you think that you can handle the harsh wind of gotham, You can't!

Shit he has to take you back, He has to take his baby sibling back. you'll die if you last outside longer. He have to find you, but how!?

He–he doesn't have your number nor know anything about you at all!

"Alright, thanks, Alfred," he murmured dejectedly, winning Alfred's sympathy. Who reconsidered something that you'll mostly get deranged at.

"Perhaps if you'd like, I can give you some video documentaries about them so you can find them."

Deeply apologies, young master, but your absence is making me worry all day.

(Next chapter)

A/n: just a random thought at a random night lol, will probably be a series, sorry if I ever mischaracterizes anyone here, I just stick to the way many people views them like ಥ_ಥ english is not my first language so I apologize for any grammatical error as I just rely for translation of some of my languages there. Also! This is heavily inspired by @acid-ixx with his again & again series, @gotham-daydreams 's work, @i-cant-sing's work, and @klemen-tine's work make sure to check those out! OR ELSE!

[imsandra]

A breath

Pairing: Azriel x female reader

Summary: In the silent embrace of the night, Azriel found in Y/N the comfort he never knew he needed.

Warning: Fluffy comfort, I think that's it.

Word count: 1120

Notes: I believe many creators have written similar pieces, so this may not be a new concept. Feel free to leave your comments, suggestions; everything is welcome as long as it's with the intention of teaching and with respect.

English is not my native language, so I apologize for any spelling or grammar issues.

Original story, written by me. Please do not copy or plagiarize my work.

I appreciate any comments, reblogs, and likes I receive.

Happy reading!

Master list

The night in Velaris always had something special, but this one, in particular, felt magical. The gentle murmur of the Sidra River, the mild air filled with the scent of night-blooming flowers, and the clear sky full of stars that seemed to shine only for those willing to observe them closely.

Azriel was flying back to the House of Wind. He had had one of those long days, the kind where the exhaustion wasn’t just physical but emotional too. Azriel had spent hours training the Illyrians, dealing with disputes, and making sure everything ran smoothly in the Night Court.

Y/N had seen him enter, his posture stiff, and the shadows around him more restless than usual. Since they had begun spending more time together, she had learned to read him, to notice when he was tired or when something bothered him, even if he never said it. That night, however, something inside her told her that Azriel needed more than just company; he needed someone to care for him for once.

Without a word, Y/N followed him to the sitting room where Azriel usually sat after his missions or training, right next to the large window that offered a panoramic view of the city. He was there, staring out at the horizon, the stars reflecting in his golden eyes, but without his usual spark.

With a soft smile, Y/N entered and walked up to him. She sat beside him in silence, respecting his need for quiet. She didn’t need to ask what was wrong; she knew him well enough to know he would speak if he wanted to.

They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes before she suddenly got up and said, "I’ll be back in a moment."

Azriel watched her leave the room without asking where she was going. In his mind, the shadows kept whispering, but there was something about Y/N’s presence that calmed them slightly. She always made him feel less alone, less lost.

A little while later, Y/N returned with a cup of hot tea in her hands and a couple of blankets. Without asking, she offered him the tea and then draped one of the blankets over his legs.

"Wait, what are you doing?" Azriel asked, his tone a mix of curiosity and amusement.

Y/N shrugged, smiling. "Taking care of you. You look exhausted."

Azriel took the cup of tea, surprised by how comforting such a simple gesture could be. No one usually took care of him like that. He was always the one looking out for others, the one protecting, the one watching over his loved ones from the shadows. But with Y/N... she made him feel like someone worthy of being cared for.

Y/N sat back down beside him, wrapping herself in a blanket, and gently snuggled up against him. At first, Azriel tensed reflexively, but then he relaxed when she intertwined her fingers with his, softly caressing his scarred hand. Though he hated the scars for the horrible memories they brought him, Y/N didn’t feel the same. To her, they were part of his story.

The touch was so light, so intimate, that it surprised him how much it soothed him.

"Do you feel better?" she whispered, without looking directly at him, her focus on the nighttime view of Velaris.

Azriel gently squeezed her hand in response. "Yes... much better," he answered softly.

The peace he had been searching for all day, the calm he so longed for, he found there, in that moment, sitting next to Y/N, with her hand in his and her warmth comforting him.

"You know," Y/N continued in a low voice, "you don’t have to carry the weight of the world on your own. You can rest, lean on someone every now and then."

Azriel remained silent for a moment, his thoughts deep. Y/N’s words resonated with him in a way that few things ever did. He was so used to being the shield for everyone else, to protect and care, that he rarely allowed himself to be vulnerable, even for a moment.

"Thank you," he finally whispered, his voice full of sincerity. "For this. For... taking care of me."

Y/N lifted her head to look at him, her smile soft and understanding. "I’ll always do it, Az. Anytime you need it," she told him, a promise between them.

Azriel turned to her, his eyes meeting hers, and in that moment, something inside him broke, in the most beautiful way possible. He leaned in, pressing his forehead against Y/N’s, closing his eyes as he breathed deeply, letting her closeness envelop him completely.

They remained like that, together in the stillness, simply enjoying the peace they had found in each other. For Azriel, it was a reminder that it was okay to be vulnerable, that he didn’t always have to be strong—at least not with Y/N. And for her, it was a moment of tenderness, knowing that, although Azriel was a warrior in the shadows, in her arms he would always have a place to rest.

"Come," Y/N said softly, shifting a bit and pulling him down. "Let’s relax a little more."

Azriel let her guide him, leaning back into the cushions of the sofa as she nestled at his side, resting her head on his chest. His wings instinctively moved to wrap around them, creating a warm, protective barrier.

"I promise tomorrow will be better," Y/N whispered, her fingers gently playing with the dark strands of Azriel’s hair.

Azriel smiled for the first time all day, his hand softly caressing Y/N’s back. "With someone like you by my side, it will be."

Y/N kissed his cheek, and the spymaster blushed.

Under the blankets, under the night’s veil and the shelter of Azriel’s wings, they both found comfort in each other. A shared peace that didn’t need grand words or elaborate gestures—just a simple promise to always be there for one another.

*divider by @cafekitsune , thank you <33.

A/N: After an angst-filled Azriel x reader it's only fair to have a fluffy one. I hope you liked it and I'm sorry it was short, let me know what you think. Kisses, love you guys.

[a-fangirltrash]

"Ford treated Fiddleford so bad!!" As if him treating Fidds like shit wasn't directly a product of being constantly gaslighted and abused by Bill.

I'm genuinely getting tired of people flaming Ford, but in a serious tone. Like people are acting like he's a toxic selfish man that used to put Fidd down... and... no he never did???

Ford ADMIRED Fiddleford, he TRUSTED his friend for what he described as "the project of his life" and Ford, being the most prideful man in the world, decided to ask for help because he knew how CAPABLE Fiddleford was.

When Fiddleford arrived Ford let him know how thankful he was that he was there with him, the man even took a bath and made sure to make him feel like he was at home. Ford even remembered his favorite bean brand?

When Fidd got traumatized by the gremoblin, Ford TRIED to help with what he knew. He tried to help him meditate, took days off for him, decided that they could go out and have some good time. Be mindful that this might've been the total OPPOSITE of what Bill wanted, and he still did for his friend sanity. Bill would make Ford work like CRAZY.

Also, for him it wasn't "putting him in danger!!" For him it was sharing adventures with his friend! Just like hi did with *cofcofSTANLEYcofcof*. That's love language all around.

Fiddleford could abandon the project anytime, but he didn't because he liked being there. And Ford is NOT the guilty one for Fidds creatinf the gun :/ it's nor his fault that fidd interpreted "using his creativity" in that way. Ford NEVER approved that gun.

Also, Ford noticed that RUBIK THING, HE APPREACITE HIM SO MUCH HE KNEW HIS HABITS. AND GOT CONCERNED RIGHT AHEAD.

"B-but he free Frilliam!" The portal was close, did you all READ how much gaslighted Ford was at that point? He didn't free it because "ugh i don't care about this shitty axolotl" but because Bill started to freak out and yell at him to get rid of it. Ford wrote "A friend" with a heart in the title??? Wdym he didn't appreciate it aaaagh

If Stanley took the diaries (i don't like this universe because...stanley:() he WOULD have looked for Fiddleford, they'd have made the Institute of Oddology, he'd have shared his success... with the man that helped him the most.

TBOB SPOILERS AHEAD

He got sad when Fiddleford told him he was gonna get back home to spent time with his family, he PLANNED holidays with him. Even if he DIDN'T like holidays.

He took a day off just to make him happy after his atrocious christmas party, he USED RESOURCES that as you know ford is the most practical mam in the world JUST to decorate the portal as a tree and make Fiddleford happy.

And that atuff of "h-he doesn't appreaciated Fiddleford gifts!" IS SO DUMB OMG, he wore the gloves in the snow and was incredibly thankful about them. When BILL that dumbass triangle pretty much LACERATED his hands, he used Fiddleford gloves as a way to hide those scars, and in a sense, probably to comfort himself because he was ALONE.

I think that was the reason of Fiddleford fast forgiveness, not only because he's a sweet heart, but because after fighting with Bill i think he noticed how BIG was the monster torturing his "partner".

And after all of this i'm not trying to excuse Ford treating him poorly and not listening to him in time

BUT FORD IS NOT A PERFECT VICTIM

Even if i believe he wasn't "the" (at least only) reason of Fiddleford becoming crazy, i know it could have been better for him and he could have avoided so much trauma. But can we please stop seeing Ford as a selfish, evil mad scientist and start seing him as a victim... of a terribly abusive relationship that checks in for all types of domestic abuse... please!!! Ford is not a perfect VICTIM Can we blame Bill!!!

All this rant is because there's certain ship... which i kinda like, but i just HATE HATE HATE the interpretation and how much they put Ford as a villian on it omg

Edit: fixed the use of word narcissism, since it might've been ableist! Replaced with words that actually relate to what i intended to say, instead of referencing a personality disorder

[venomhound]

Hazbin Hotel - Vox Kink Headcanons

Personal kink headcanons for my beloved tv man Vox. Not doing the more obvious/universally accepted kinks. Instead I'm writing about some of my more... niche takes.

WARNINGS: Gender neutral reader, but is AFAB for the last section; all the kinky shit obviously; Valentino mention (18+), MDNI, NSFW below the cut ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Domestic Kink ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

For those who don't know, a domestic kink is being turned on by doing everyday couple things. Things like cooking, cleaning, that type of thing. Vox basically gets turned on by you two being a couple and taking care of each other. The man is so love starved he just gets sent to another planet by those simple everyday shows of affection.

If you start helping Vox get dressed in the mornings, he will melt into a puddle. Every. Time.

It started simple enough, Vox was in a rush so you thought to help him put on his coat. Sliding it onto him, adjusting the collar, straightening his bowtie... You didn't notice how still he went until you went to fix his sleeves and you looked up into his wide, almost feral eyes.

Vox desperately crashed his lips against yours as he pulled your bodies flush together causing you to squeak. Only then did you feel how hard you had made him as he grinded into you... Needless to say, Vox had to reschedule his entire morning.

Vox will come home to you cooking dinner and just bend you over the counter. Whispering in your ear, 'Your so sweet doing this for me, Sugar. Now let me take care of you."

I have had the scenario floating around of you making Vox breakfast in bed one morning just as something nice to do for him. You dont think too much of it, he has been so tired and overworked lately so you figure any extra sleep he can get would do wonders for him

Vox however, absolutely fucking loses it. When you wake him up with tray in hand, he... just kind of stares at you. What do you mean you already made breakfast? Wait you have breakfast? For him? For him in bed?

You actually thought the man might have bluescreened. It takes you setting the tray down and grabbing his hand before he starts moving again.

Vox pulls you into his lap and starts peppering kisses all over you. He just cant believe that this is actually happening; that your here with him, that you did such a sweet thing, and oh god does he love you so much.

He actually is daydreaming about it the rest of the day and bragging about it whenever he can.

Comes home early that evening just to surprise you and spend a romantic evening together (totally not because he accidentally pent himself up gushing over you all day ABSOLUTELY NOT).

✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿

Recording/Being Recorded ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

(This one might not be a niche take but I'm putting it here anyway cause I want to yap about it)

I wasn't quite sure if there was a specific name for this kink. But what I mean by this is Vox loves to specifically record you two having sex. Like an amateur porn thing. However. These videos are meant for his eyes only.

Vox would murder anyone who so much as tried to get their hands on these videos. God help them if they actually saw one. Its not even a matter of honor or anything, its a matter of only Vox is allowed to see you come apart like that. Vox is the only one allowed to hear you make those sounds.

Vox honestly isnt going to even bring this whole 'recording you two' thing up unless he trusts you completely. Even then he is super sheepish the first time he asks about it. Vox knows your going to be suspicious and, yeah, you rightfully are due to his association with the porn moth.

It takes a bit of prodding for you to get out of Vox that he sees it as a different way to enjoy you. To experience you. He will get to see your beautiful body at angles he never could while he plows into you. He can finally see the look of pure ecstasy on your face as he eats you out, diving his tongue as far into you as it can go.

Vox is over the moon when you finally agree to let him place a camcorder in your shared bedroom.

You viscerally notice how much more relaxed and strangely content Vox seems to be next time you two have sex. Vox always had this certain tension to him and its just... gone now.

What you don't realize is that 'tension' was Vox's underlying fear of how transient you were. He was always trying to absorb as much of you as he could, to memorize every part of you. But now he felt like he could truly let himself enjoy the moment knowing that he will be able to listen to your heavenly sounds on repeat, analyze every little twitch he causes, and fully see every expression you make.

A deep, deep, dark part of Vox want to tell Valentino to cancel every shoot he has for a day. To reserve the studio just for you two. To spend an entire day taking you in every way imaginable. Bringing you to bliss in every messy way he possibly can. Getting you to make every obscene noise that beautiful voice of yours can make.

But Vox knows that he could never trust Valentino to not make a copy of you two for himself. So he will stick to his amateur recordings. Anything to keep you safe and to himself.

Whenever Vox is missing you at work (or whenever he gets a free moment honestly), he starts watching back one of your now countless sex tapes. He will let the odd feeling of comfort wash over him as he sees the adoring looks you give him and hears you two exchange words of love. God, he can't wait to get back home to you.

✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿

Cock Warming ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

OKAY. I think I've gotten the point across that Vox is a certified lover boy™ who basically wants to imbibe your very being. Whelp. This is just more of that.

Don't get me wrong, Vox loves sex. Sex is great. But having you on his lap, his cock inside you, the two of you as close as two beings can physically get, and just- enjoying that... It hits differently you know?

Say its due to his mechanical nature all you want, (insert joke about 'plugging in' here) but Vox loves to feel like you two are truly connected. When your bodies actually become one like this, he is just that much closer to perfect.

As stated previously, will let you sit on his lap and cockwarm him anytime you please. Vox's absolute favorite times are when he has to do work ironically. He can never stop the blissful smile he makes as he has you in his lap. Vox will gently hold you with one arm while the other tries to get work done. You always end up giggling whenever you kiss up the side of his neck or monitor and Vox lets out the most contented sighs.

Honestly, just start going to work with him, becoming his personal cocksleeve whenever he is in his monitor room. A blanket draped over the two of you to hide what's actually going on.

Since the poor guy has no choice but to sleep on his back; you can easily do the same thing for bedtime. Climb on top of him and delicately slide him inside of you. Vox will just look up at you with the most lovedrunk expression as you bend over him and nuzzle into his neck, your body draping over his, and Vox pulling you impossibly close as you both fall asleep.

Its times like this that Vox questions why anyone would even need heaven.

[ghostsangel]

Could I request being friends with Ghost (who's desperately in love with you) and admitting to him one night that you don't think anyone would ever love you? If reader is plus size that would be amazing! Thank you 😊

oh my god this is adorable!!! sorry if this is too short or it sucks. totally felt like writer’s block.

simon “ghost” riley x fem!plus-size reader

tags/warnings: a lil internalized fatphobia, smitten ghost, this is legit fluff bro, a bit of angst if you squint

You’re so tired of being alone.

It sounds stupid, but you’ve never had a boyfriend. Never been kissed or had sex or even held hands with a guy. A big part of you feels like it’s because you’ve got a bit more meat on your bones—apron belly, saggy boobs, thick thighs. How would you expect anyone to love those parts of yourself when you barely do yourself?

“You alright?” Simon’s voice tugs you out of your thoughts.

You blink and look at him, forcing your lips to tug up into a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just thinkin’.”

“About?” He takes a sip of his beer, leaning back against your couch.

You’ve been friends with Simon for a couple of years. You met through mutual acquaintances, and found he’s really fun to hang out with. Caring, a bit goofy when he’s drunk, protective. In truth, you’ve developed a bit of a crush on him. But, surely, someone who looks like Simon….yeah, you’re out of his league.

You shrug, crossing your arms in front of your belly and leaning back on the couch. “Things.”

Simon raises his brows. “Things,” he repeats. “Come on, tell me. We’ve been friends for a long time, doll.”

His eyes pierce through you, and you can’t help the heat that rises to your face. Averting your gaze, you rub your thighs together, shaking your head. “It’s stupid.”

Simon grunts and sets his beer down, moving to sit next to you on the couch. He turns your head to face him, fingers on your chin. A prickly subject for you—your double chin makes you so self-conscious, you could cry.

“C’mon, nothin’ you say could be stupid,” he reassures you, releasing your chin.

You’re silent for a moment before you sigh. “Just thinkin’ about me. And how I’ve never been loved, and probably never will be.”

Simon blinks at you, brows drawing together. “And why do you think that?”

You look at him incredulously, your hands gesturing to your body. “Because I look like…this. I’m fat. And guys don’t—”

“Shut it,” Simon says, tilting your head up by your chin. There’s a look in his eyes, one you’ve never seen before. “You’re bloody beautiful, doll. Your body makes men like me weak, and it drives me crazy.” He leans in, and your breath hitches in your throat. “Ever since I met you, you’re all I fuckin’ think about. Think I’ve loved you since that first day.”

Your heart stops, and your brain scrambles as you try to reply. “I—what? You…what?”

Simon laughs softly, his fingers moving to cup your cheek. “You don’t have to worry about anyone not loving you, sweetheart. I already do. Been crazy about you since we met.”

“Really?” You breathe out, meeting his eyes. “You’re not just lyin’ to me or makin’ fun of me or—”

Simon shuts you up with a kiss, his lips pressing against yours slowly. You kiss him back, clumsily, not sure what to do. You just follow his lead, letting him take control. The kiss causes heat to run down your spine and you pull back after a moment.

“I’ve never…” You trail off, meeting his eyes.

“I know. Don’t worry, love. I’ll be all your firsts if you let me.”

[buckyshoneybunny]

Their Babydoll

WinterWidow + Shy!Stark!Curvy!reader 

Summary- Bucky and Natasha take a liking to the shy designer. 

W.C.- 2212 

Warnings- Smut, fluff, cursing, unprotected sex, oral (fem, reader), cum eating, let me know if I missed anything. 

A/N- I hope you guys like! Sorry if the smut sucks, I was tired lol. I know these fics are usually Bucky x Reader x Steve but I would want Nat more. Anyway I already have an idea for a new series and it includes Biker Bucky! Not proof read, all mistakes are mine. Hope you enjoy it my lovelies!  

Masterlist 

“Please Uncle Tony!” You beg for the hundredth time.  

“No,” he says, not even looking up from the device he was tweaking.  

“But-” 

“No,” he interrupts you.  

You stick your bottom lip out and give your best puppy eyes. It would always work when you were younger. Now though? 

“No”  

You groan and cross your arms. You smile to yourself. “You know, Aunt Pepper has been wondering what happened to her-” 

“Okay! Okay,” he sighs and pushes the protective glasses further up his nose as he looks at you. “There’s no need to bring Pepper into this.” 

You giggle and lean your hip against the table he’s working at. “You always were afraid of Aunt Pepper.” 

“I’m not afraid of her,” he huffs. “I just happen to have a healthy amount of respect for her.”  

“You’re afraid of her, Tony,” Bruce pipes up from across the lab.  

You giggle as Tony sends you and Bruce a glare.  

“Why do you even want to use the holographic interfaces?” Tony asks. 

“Because it would make designing floor plans so much easier! Using your tech would help me with the critical parts of my job.”  

“But you don’t even know how to use them.” 

“You could teach me.” 

“But I don’t hav-” He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Fine,” he huffs.  

You squeal and hug him. “Thank you, Uncle Tony!”  

He pats your arm, “Yeah yeah.” 

Most people didn’t know Tony had a sister; hell no one knew he actually had any siblings until you showed up with your stuff one rainy day. 

Freshly 19 and ready to make a name for yourself in the world of Interior Design, you’d moved to New York thinking this was the best place to do so. 

Your mother, Tony’s younger sister only by a few years, called to express her worry of you moving there and being alone.  

So, Tony being the ever so giving person he is, and a few not-so-subtle threats from your mother, told you that you could stay at the Avengers Tower. You were furious, ranting about how you wanted to make it on your own and didn’t need any help. But when he mentioned you’d get to meet and spend time with the Avengers, you quickly got over it. 

You were so excited to meet the Avengers, you’d always had a major crush on Bucky. You even wrote a paper about him for your history class in the 6th grade. His sparkling steel blue eyes taking you captive. You wanted nothing more than to run your fingers through his shoulder length brown hair, hoping it’s as soft as it looks. And you can’t forget those full, pink lips that could make a gal melt like butter on hot asphalt.  

But he was taken, by your second favorite Avenger, Natasha Romanoff. You definitely had a girl crush on her. She was so strong and skilled, every womans idol. She was the reason you tried and failed at learning how to fight. So what if you were thicker than the other girls? Yeah okay, you had thick thighs, a pudgy, soft stomach and flabby arms, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t learn some moves like the other girls. To be fair though, that instructor was a womanizer. 

He said, and I quote, that you’d ‘never make it anywhere in life looking like that’. Boy did you prove him wrong. You were one of the best Interior Designers in New York, you had a special touch that other designers didn’t have. And you loved your job, you loved bringing peoples dreams to life and seeing the joy on their face.  

You enjoyed it, but it wasn’t always easy. The meticulous planning, writing up contracts, getting a crew for certain aspects in and out on time could be grueling at times, but seeing the looks on your client’s faces when they’d see the finished product was always worth it.  

You had been worried when you first got to the Tower, worried the other Avengers wouldn’t like you. It was all for nothing though because they absolutely loved you, you were a part of their dysfunctional family now and they had no plans of letting you go. Everyone had really taken a liking to you, especially Bucky and Natasha. 

When you introduced yourself to them with your cheeks flushed, hands nervously fidgeting behind your back, and your shy little voice, it made Natasha want to wrap her arms around you and protect you from the world.  

But, on the other hand, seeing your long thick thighs on display, juicy ass just barely covered by the shorts you wore, and your tank top that hugged your curves just right made her’s and Bucky’s mouths water. That body paired with your shy, innocent demeanor made them want to swallow you whole. 

They had been happy just the two of them, rekindling their love once they both were free. They never thought about having someone else in their relationship, never wanted anyone else, until you.  

One knowing look and desire fill conversation later they knew they had to have you. They just had to be careful so they wouldn’t scare you away, and make sure Tony didn’t find out and do something crazy. He was very protective of you. 

So, the next couple of years were spent with heated looks, lingering touches, and subtle hints thrown at you that you never seem to catch. They were tired of this game of chase, frustrated and on a level of horny so high that they couldn’t fuck down no matter how hard they tried. Bucky was this close to fucking up against the closest wall, Natasha not far behind. But they’d soon get what they longed for.  

You studied your reflection in the mirror again. The thin strapped, black dress that stopped mid-thigh, and had a slit going up your left thigh, hugged your body perfectly. You wouldn’t normally wear something so revealing but Wanda said this dress was perfect.  

She’d said you’d definitely be getting fucked tonight. She may or may not have read Bucky and Natasha’s minds and knew this dress would make them lose it.  

Tonight was Sam’s birthday party, although his birthday wasn’t for two more days, he’d be in Louisiana visiting his sister so Steve wanted to throw him a party before he left.  

Making sure your curls were perfect, you sprayed on some perfume and put some black heels on and headed down to the floor the party was being held at. 

Natasha and Bucky were sat at the bar area, formulating a plan on how to make you theirs. Natasha wore an off the shoulder, floor length, blood red dress that fit her just right, with matching lipstick and heels.  

Bucky had a tailor-made, black suit that showed his defined muscles. His face clean-shaven, displaying his sharp jaw and his hair tied back in that low, sexy bun he’s always sporting.  

Natasha was the first to see you, choking on her drink as she takes you in, causing Bucky to follow her line of sight. His cock rock hard instantly. She bit her lip and one shared glance; they knew tonight was the night and they had just the plan to do it. 

You lock eyes with Natasha and she beckons you over.  

“Look at you, firefly,” she grins and you blush.  

Bucky whistles and looks you up and down. “You’d give poor old Steve a heart attack in that dress, doll. You look amazing.”  

“You think so?” You shyly ask. 

“Definitely,” Natasha adds.  

You begrudgingly do a shot with them after the persisted you do at least one to help loosen you up, even though they knew you didn’t like alcohol. They didn’t leave your side the rest of the night, not that you minded, you loved being the center of their attention. They were waiting for the perfect moment to sneak you away, that moment came after the cake and presents, everyone having gone back to drinking and dancing.  

Natasha loops her arm with yours. “So, firefly,” she smirks. “Me and Bucky were thinking of changing up our room, think you could help us?” There a devious sparkle in her eyes that you miss. 

Your eyes light up. “Yes!” You smile.  

They lead you away from the party and up to their room. Once inside Bucky locks the door. You look around as Natasha comes up behind you and puts her hands on your waist. She runs her nose up the side of your neck, taking in the scent of your perfume. You freeze. 

“Nat?” You ask on a shaky whisper.  

“Yes, firefly?” She nibbles on your ear, causing you to shudder. 

Bucky stands in front of you and cups your face, tilting your head to make you look at him. His lips inches from yours. Your follow-up question gets stuck in your throat. 

“Do you know,” Bucky starts, leaning forward to nudge his nose with yours. 

“How long we’ve been waiting for you?” Natasha finishes, kissing your shoulder. 

“What?” You ask through the already forming fog in your brain. 

“We want you, firefly. Will you let us have you?” She slides her hands up to just under your boobs, waiting for your consent. You whimper and nod. 

“Words doll,” Bucky says. 

“Yes,” you whisper breathlessly.  

Bucky smashes his lips to yours as Natasha cups your boobs, squeezing them. You moan and grab Bucky’s forearms.  

He steps back and takes his suit jacket off, instructing Nat to take your dress off. She slowly unzips the dress and pushes the straps off your shoulders. It gets bunched around your middle, you blush, insecurities sneaking up on you. She just pushes it the rest of the way down. 

Your hands itch to cover yourself but stop when Bucky lets out a deep groan. He whispers a fuck and reaches down to squeeze his throbbing cock. You let out a whine. 

“Get on the bed and spread those gorgeous thighs, doll,” he rasps. His eyes black with lust. Your bra and panties come off and you get on the bed, laying on your back and shyly spreading your thighs.  

Natasha moans. “Look at her Buck.” He hums and pushes the straps of her dress off her shoulder, revealing she had nothing on underneath. He groans and kisses her; she unbuttons his shirt. You whine, more slick coming out and coating your folds. They break apart and grin. 

While Bucky finishes taking his clothes off, Natasha comes beside you and starts to play with your breasts, pinching and tugging your nipples causing you to moan. Bucky, now naked, kneels between your legs, taking in the sight of your soaked pussy.  

“Already so wet and we’ve hardly touched you babydoll,” he taunts. You whine, the feeling of his hot breath causing you to shudder. 

“Don’t tease her Buck,” Natasha says as she takes one of your nipples into her mouth.  

She nips lightly at the bud as Bucky presses his tongue to your clit, you let out a high-pitched moan and grip his hair. As she teases your nipples, Bucky eats you out like a starved man, mumbling out how good you taste in between slurps and gasps of breath. 

Bucky can’t handle it anymore and stands up before you can cum. “I gotta be in you, doll, fuck.” He gets in between your legs and lines his leaking tip up with your entrance.  

He slowly slides in and your eyes roll back. He gives you a second once he bottoms out, letting you adjust. Natasha rubs your clit as he starts to move. 

“How does she feel?” She asks 

“S’fucking good, so tight, shit” He groans and pounds into you. 

Natasha oscillates between making out with you and sucking you breasts and leaving hickies. She keeps rubbing your clit. You grip the sheets, panting and moaning. Bucky angles his thrusts just right and you scream as he hits that spot inside of you that causes you to see stars. 

“I-I’m go-....gonna...” You can’t even finish your sentence. 

He speeds up his thrusts, “Cum, doll, soak my cock.” 

Your eyes roll back and your back arches as you squirt, soaking his balls, thighs, and the bed. His hips stutter as he cums unexpectedly, he rides out both of your highs, his cock not softening at all.  

Natasha motions for him to pull, when he does, she immediately gets between your legs and eats you out, moaning at the taste of your slick and Bucky’s cum. He groans and starts to fuck her. 

This goes on for hours, both of them pull orgasms out of you. By the end of it, you lay cuddle between them, exhausted. They say that they want you to be a part of their relationship, you agree, feeling like you’re dreaming. The two people you’ve had the biggest crush on actually wanted you to be with them, you couldn’t have been happier. 

When Tony finds out he whacks both Natasha and Bucky in the back of the head with a rolled-up newspaper. He also now carries a spray bottle with him for when y’all get a little too handsy.  

All in all you’re living your dream and you couldn’t be happier.

[opal-owl-flight]

TIRED OF WAITIN’ MAKE UP YOUR DAMN MIND

YEAH ITS ALRIGHT, WE BOTH KNOW THAT YOU WANT IT, DONT YOU BE SO SHY, SHY!

OH MY GOD I LOVE STARKILLER WIDNEKD. I had this idea for Tartar manipulating 3 with words similar to the song…

more abt that below + the piece without the words :]

I wonder if 3, at that point in OE, carry a thought within them... something Tartar can use.

The sanitization is absolute mind control, yes, but it would be neat if it was preceded by a sort of hypnosis; a suggestion that tartar puts out for a victim to bite onto (not that it really matters. The forced body control happens anyway.)

Theres a yearning for the past. That much I know. But I do wonder if Tartar also suggested something else alongside that.

"Ah, the legendary captain of the Squidbeak Splatoon. He probably was the one who pulled you out of that life, hm?"

"...Yes."

"Despicable, this old coot, forcing you to fight a war that ended a century ago. Forcing you to dig up a city your nation already buried.

Making you a weapon in this...disgusting show of continued dominance."

"..."

"Dont you want to end him, right here, right now?"

"...."

"Avenge that younger self, child. Join me, and we will make sure he never hurts you again."

"..."

They look at Cuttlefish. Cod, theyre so weak, their head hurts, they are in no shape to defend themself. Neither is the old man, but...

Their hearts were burning with a feeling theyve been burying for years. A feeling thats gotten stronger and stronger over the long patrol.

This...doubt. Towards the captain they followed the ends of the earth for. Day by day, being pushed to their limits for his continued war. Wanting his approval, wanting to make him proud. Believing that theyre indeed keeping this fragile world safe.

Wanting to...keep being this hero he said they were.

But its getting harder to believe those words now. Not when that Octarian from earlier was such a sweet soul...among others theyve encountered and observed in other patrols.

Their arm burned. It was drenched in that cyan ink the telephone was oozing.

They have no reason to trust this thing that almost killed Cuttlefish and that Octarian that he was with moments before.

Still...

They feel...

Their mind is slipping.

So tired...so hurt...

"Join me. I can give you rest.

Ill bring you...to the promised land."

"...Okay."

--------

They went fully unconscious for awhile. When they "awoke" (but is still under Tartar's control), they were already fighting 8. And their body hurt even more than before.

They never shouldve trusted him.....

--------

This baiting rings familiar, doesnt it. Order did it to 4, as well. Much to 3s horror, they were the reason she took that bait. Her desire to be their perfect agent, and their desire to never be hurt or used by anyone like Cuttlefish again...

They wanted her to be strong enough so she can stay safe and live her life the way she wanted to. But their fear spoke louder than their adoration for her.

Hurt people hurt people, cycle of violence, and all that.

[xmads-omensx]

It's Okay, I've Got You

Noah Sebastian x reader One Shot

Masterlist

Word Count: 1,736

Content Warnings: Swearing, fluff, slight angst if you squint, thunderstorms

Summary: Y/N has never let Noah stay at her place, and she has never let herself stay at his. Noah gets to the bottom of it one night when a thunderstorm forces her to stay at his place.

Noah and I had been dating for around three months, but hadn’t spent the night at each other’s places yet. Don’t get me wrong, I would love to be able to stay over at his place, or for him to stay at mine, but I just hadn’t made that leap yet.

It wasn’t for Noah’s lack of trying however. He had asked me if I wanted to stay over after movie dates at his place, dinner dates that ran late int the night, even driving aimlessly after getting a drive-thru meal.

He had stayed late at my place, clearly hinting towards him staying the night, but I had always played as being completely oblivious to it.

One night in particular, he was sprawled out on my sofa, with me curled up in his side as we talked about how his tour that he had just finished had been. He was visibly exhausted and all that he wanted was to curl up in bed and sleep “for at least twenty seven days” as he had said to me when he walked through the door of my apartment.

I felt his breathing start to slow as sleep overtook him, and as guilty as I felt about it, I started to shake his shoulder to wake him up. His eyes fluttered awake as he gave me a sleepy smile. “Sorry baby.” He grumbled.

“Do you want me to call you a cab?” I offered, rubbing his arm affectionately. “You probably shouldn’t drive home if you’re this tired honey.”

“I can just crash on your couch if you’re cool with it?” He said, fighting to keep his beautiful brown eyes open.

“No, Noah you need to be in your own bed. You’ve just come back from a big tour.”  I tried to convince him.

“Yeah, you’re probably right. But I’m so fucking tired.” He mumbled sleepily.

“Noah, I’m calling you a cab.” I told him, grabbing my phone and booking an uber to take him home.

“Baby I promise I’m fine on the couch.” He tried to convince me.

“Noah. You’re going home and that’s the end of it.” I huffed, frustrated.

I felt guilty for doing this to him, but I didn’t want to have to make up some bullshit excuse and this was the best I could think of. he was just back from tour after all, and a night in his own bed would do him some good.

Truth was, there was a reason that I didn’t want him to stay, and why I couldn’t stay at his place, but I was too embarrassed for him to find out. It all came to a head one night during a terrible thunderstorm that began whilst myself and Noah were curled up on his bed watching Demon Slayer together.

I heard the pitter-patter of rain on the windows and didn’t think much of it. I had always liked rain and it didn’t seem so bad that it would stop me from driving myself back home when our date was over.

Noah pulled me closer into his side as the rain got heavier, making me feel so much cozier and my heart warmed at his action. He kissed the top of my head and rested his cheek there. “Rain’s getting heavier.” He whispered.

“In that case, I should probably head home before it gets worse.” I started to pull away from him as I moved to gather all of my belongings.

“Baby no, just stay.” He protested.

“No, Noah, it’s fine. I don’t live far and the roads will be quiet. It’s fine.” I grabbed my phone charger and shoved it into my bag, moving to grab my phone and car keys off of his bedside table. Before I could, Noah grabbed my hand and placed a kiss on the back of it.

“Please baby, I want you to stay. Plus you hate driving in the dark.” He tried to convince me.

“It’s fine. It’s a short drive. I’ll send you a photo of me with a spoon on my head or some shit like that so you know I’m home safe.” I said with a laugh.

“Baby it’s raining.” He said.

“It’s not that bad and I’m sure it’ll pass soon.” I replied.

As soon as those words left my mouth, a huge crack of lightning lit up Noah’s bedroom, followed by a huge crash of thunder.

“Okay, you’re definitely not going anywhere.” Noah stated, standing up and walking towards his wardrobe. “I’ve got some clothes you can borrow and then you can head back to your place tomorrow.”

I couldn’t control the fear that overtook my body as tears involuntarily fell down my face.

“Here’s an old shirt you can borrow…” Noah trailed off once he had turned back round to face me. “What’s up baby?” he walked over to me, placing the folded shirt on his bed, before taking me into a warm hug.

“Nothing it’s fine.” I mumbled into his hoodie.

“It’s not nothing if you’re crying babe. What’s going on?” He pushed.

“It’s embarrassing and you’ll laugh at me.” I said, looking at my feet.

“How about you get changed and we get into bed and we can talk about it?” Noah suggested.

Feeling defeated, I nodded my head and shuffled towards his ensuite bathroom. Locking the door, I looked up into the mirror and saw that my eyes had started to become puffy and my makeup had started to run. This was so fucking dumb.

After wiping my face clean with some of the makeup wipes Noah had bought when I started to hang out at his place more, I realised that I was going to have to tell him my deep, dark, embarrassing secret.

Accepting my defeat, I unlocked the bathroom door and opened it. I was greeted by Noah already sat in bed with a warm smile. The room was now only illuminated by his LED lights that were turned on a warm orange.

“Feel better baby?” Noah asked softly. I nodded weakly in reply, walking towards the bed. I hopped up and curled up with my head resting on Noah’s chest.

“You want to talk about it?” He whispered. I shrugged my shoulders. “It might help to talk about it.”

“It’s embarrassing and you’ll laugh at me.” I sighed in defeat.

“I swear to god, I won’t laugh. I would never laugh at you, beautiful.” He reassured.

“Imscaredofthedark.” I quickly mumbled into his bare chest.

“Hmm?” He questioned. “What did you say baby, I didn’t hear you.”

I sighed and said quietly, “I’m scared of the dark.”

There was a beat of silence before either of us spoke up again.

“I’m scared of heights.” Noah stated simply.

“What?” Questioned.

“Sorry, are we not just listing things that we are scared of?” He asked with a smile on his face.

“No Noah! I’m being serious. I’m scared, and I was too embarrassed to stay over or for you to stay over at my place and see my stupid fucking nightlight and laugh at me! There! I said it! Happy now?” I yelled at him in frustration.

“Wait here.” Noah got out of bed, put a shirt on and left his bedroom. I could hear footsteps pattering down the stairs. I sat back and sighed in frustration. He was going to leave me because I’m so fucking childish and too much of a pussy to be taken seriously by any man ever. Fuck my life.

About ten minutes had passed and Noah still wasn’t back. Oh my god. Was he downstairs telling Jolly and Jesse? They would all be laughing at me too!

There was never a real reason why the dark scared me so much. I knew nothing would hurt me. I guess it was always just the idea of being alone in a space that didn’t allow me to see everything. The unknown aspect of it always creeped me out.

That’s why my grandmother had bought me a nightlight when I moved out of the family home. She was the only one who had ever taken my phobia seriously. She had passed away about a year ago, and no one had ever understood me since, so I just stopped telling people when my nightlight came up in conversation, or staying over at other people’s houses.

Tears welled up in my eyes again and I began to cry softly into Noah’s pillow that still smelled like him.

Suddenly, his bedroom door opened slowly and in walked Noah. His hair was wet and his shirt was drenched and stuck to his chest. I looked at him with an expression of pure confusion. He whipped off his wet shirt and threw it in the laundry basket before grabbing a towel and drying hir hair slightly.

He held out his Bad Omens bag and handed it to me, then climbed back into bed and sat where he previously was.

“Where did you go?” I asked.

“Open the bag.” He smiled down at me, wiping the tears from my cheeks.

I pulled on the zipper and opened the bag. Inside was a nightlight. But, not just any nightlight, MY nightlight. The one from my apartment. He had gone out in the thunderstorm and gotten it for me.

“Do you want to do the honours or should I?” He asked with a smile.

“What?” I replied. Still in slight shock from this romantic gesture.

“Plug it in? Do you want to do it, or should I?”

“Hmm… You can.” I said.

“Hang on then.” He gently took the nightlight from my hands and walked over to the outlet that was next to his bedroom door. He turned it on and it lit up with a soft, warm glow. Noah waked back over to the bed and climbed in. he then reached over to his bedside table and turned off his LED lights, making the room darker.

Noah could feel my body tense up slightly, so he pulled me closer to him and placed a kiss on top of my head.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you.” He whispered as he slowly began to rock me back and forth to comfort me. “Nothing is going to hurt you. Not when I’m here.”

I could feel sleep take over my body as I listened to his calming, steady heartbeat.

That was the best night sleep I had gotten in years.

[hyunjinsjeans]

Winter Madness (Han x Reader)

Summary: trying to take things slow with Chan after a certain conversation turns into a weekend getaway to remember.

Type: Fluff 🧸, SFW 👍

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy, mentions of health issues.

Word count: 1992 Words

Related: He Knows (Han ver.)

Masterlist Here

AN: This fic is a part 2 to Han’s version of the He Knows Series. It can also be read as a stand alone. This one is not as horny as Bangchan’s version hehe, I wanted more Hannie fluff, so here we are! Enjoy!

You did not struggle to get pregnant, after all the worrying Jisung did for you, it turned out to be a simple task. As simple as simply having unprotected sex a few times. Jisung had been incredibly overprotective from the moment you came home with the lab results. You were supposed to wait until your doctor’s appointment, but the two of you just had to take a little look at the papers in the envelope. 

There was one single line that indicated “pregnancy” and after the long line of dots the next word would either be “negative” or “positive”, in black bold ink your result was “positive”. Han was worried sick, those first few months he would lose sleep over your aches and symptoms. 

You went through nothing special, but to Han it was all his fault. He would sometimes let his anxiety take the wheel. Fortunately, there was a big tour to get through while their baby grew healthy in your belly. You did not stop working until your stomach was so big you could not sit comfortably at your desk, by which point you were almost at full term. 

You were excited to tag along with Han and some of the boys on a short weekend to Busan, I.N was excited to have everyone with him in his hometown as his girlfriend tagged along too for the first time. You did not think much about it, packing and leaving thinking how you were programmed for a c-section in three weeks time. 

Of course, things never go quite as planned. You were taking a walk down the cold streets of Busan with Felix and his girlfriend while Han got bullied by Seungmin ahead of you when you felt something cool and wet on your leg. You stopped with a frown and looked down, the couple besides you took notice and Felix!Reader passed her little girl to Felix as she turned to you and asked if you needed to use the bathroom. You shook your head and then tried to look down, asking her why she was asking. 

“Y/N… there’s a poodle… are you okay? Did your water break?!” 

And that was the moment the penny dropped, right as I.N and his girlfriend reached you, you touched your stomach and nodded. 

There was a little bit of chaos after that. From the youngest in the group figuring out where the nearest hospital was in order to take you, to Han frantically trying to reach your obgyn on the phone. You were happy to at least have the girls with you, Innie’s girlfriend was a nurse and knew a thing or two, she helped quite a bit keeping you comfortable while Felix!Reader tried to remember all the breathing exercises from when she gave birth. Felix and Seungmin entertained themselves by keeping Felix’s girls occupied. 

You were not expecting all the planning you had spent months working on, to be useless. 

You ended up giving birth naturally in a hospital in Busan while on a weekend getaway. Han was beyond anxious at the prospect of something going wrong because you did not know the doctors here. He had to trust everything would be okay and in the end it was. Han held your hand the entire time, speaking words of encouragement and kissing your sweaty forehead whenever you looked too tired to go on. He kept his nerves to himself the best you had ever seen him do, sitting strong next to you, being the support you needed and more.  At around 9:00 p.m. you had a beautiful baby girl. Born only a few days before Christmas, your baby was small and healthy, crying loudly the second she came out. You cried along with Han, his eyes comically wide as the doctor announced it was a girl. Both of you were expecting a boy, but it was in the air as your baby just did not cooperate during scans. 

“It’s a girl!” He kissed the back of your hand, “we have a girl!” 

You laughed with your eyes closed and your head lying against the pillow, too tired to react any other way. “Is she okay?” 

Han was able to cut the umbilical cord and took a glance at his daughter in the safe hands of one of the nurses.

“Babe,” he brushed your hair back, “you did great, our baby is perfect.”

While the doctor and nurses got your baby clean one of the nurses asked if you had decided on a name for her, so they could put it on the bracelets. You looked up at Han, both of you lost for words, you had decided on a boy name. It felt like suddenly all the planning really was for nothing. Having to do a complete 180, you offered your husband a smile. 

“My nana’s name was Hae-rin. I feel it might suit her.”

Han’s eyes scan your face as he remembers your Nana, who passed a few months prior. She was a funny woman, it certainly felt empty going to your parent’s house after her passing. She was a bright lively woman, she could never stay still. Han could see what you meant. He nodded. 

“Haerin,” he kissed your knuckles. “That’s her name”. 

The nurse nodded and carefully wrote the name on the two bracelets, placing one around your wrist and then wrapping the other one around your babygirl’s tiny wrist too. After that, you were able to hold her. An exhausted smile on your face as you were handed the most delicate little thing in the world. You watched Han standing next to you, his hand coming to cup your daughter’s head as you held her into your chest. The two of you cried happily, finally meeting the little girl you spent the last year waiting for. 

Haerin was a beautiful little girl, she met her first two friends the following morning when the guys came to see her. Felix’s girls both entranced as they watched the baby sleep. You giggled as the girls ooh’ed at her in your arms. Felix!Reader held her eldest as she pointed out Haerin’s cute little nose, Felix kept his youngest’s hands at bay as she tried to touch the newborn baby girl. 

You were able to take her home a couple days later, Han had to stay at a hotel while the rest of the boys went back to Seoul to work. You spent that first week in the hotel in Busan, making the most of the surprise arrival of your little one. She was an angel, she cried little, although whenever she did it was loud. You and Han spent almost two hours in the bathroom with her the first time you gave her a bath. First struggle was getting her out of her onesie as she felt so fragile and delicate. The second struggle was being able to support Haerin’s head while bathing her. Han helped hold her, his hands seemed so big then that you two giggled at the sight. He was happy to pick her up out of the bathtub and wrap her in a soft towel, drenching the front of his shirt in the process. 

Luckily, you were back in Seoul after that one week. Entering your home again, this time as a family of three. Han grunted as he spotted your “birth bag” on the entryway. 

“We could have used that last week…” He pointed out as you entered behind him with Haerin in her brand new baby carrier. 

“I even got special pj’s for the hospital, socks, flip flops and a little blanket for her!” You pause, chuckling “well, it was blue, I thought we were having a boy!”

Han laughs, now looking at you with furrowed brows but a smile on his face. “Her entire room is for a boy…” 

You cover your face with your hand and smile, you walk into the home with your sleeping baby. “I hope she likes blue and bears…” 

You bring her into her room, setting the baby carrier down and pulling her out of it carefully. Han watches you as you pull her into your chest. He sighs, looking at the pastel pink bundle in your arms. The nursery was all baby blue and grey. Her crib was adorned with a white blanket and a couple of teddy bears, a single HanQuokka in the corner. 

“It’s okay, we can redo the room when she is a little bigger,” you said, knowing well that having your baby born so close to christmas was going to mean the two of you were going to be busy. 

Han was a top notch dad from day one, arriving home he was nothing less than a sweetheart to both you and your baby. He woke up in the middle of the night to change her diapers, helping you feed her and calm her down when she simply couldn’t sleep. He went to work but kept checking on you two; sending you messages or calling to ask if everything was okay. You could confidently say that Han was a wonderful dad. 

He also made an effort to talk to you, to ask about how you felt and open up about his worries. Whether he had work things or personal things in his mind, he told you about them at night when you got ready for bed, and he held you close whenever you needed a little cheering up. 

The one thing that you found the hardest about having a baby was the sudden rush of hormones that seemed to assault you that first month after giving birth. You loved your baby so much, you missed having her be a part of you… she felt so foreign in your arms, you felt like it was not right and you struggled with the anxiety of being unable to change it. Han helped you, listened and supported you; making sure you knew it was okay and it would be okay. He held her every chance he got, going as far as sitting quietly in the living room just holding her to spend time with her. And seeing this helped soothe your nerves a lot, it made your brain reason how important it was she was her own person. 

On Christmas you had Han’s parents visit, they met her and filled her with gifts and love. You saw the excitement in his mother’s face when she got to hold her for the first time. Haerin was already growing so much in just two weeks… Considering she was born a little early, she was doing fine. Growing and growing, eating well and beginning to take in her surroundings, showing how comfortable she was in Han’s and your own arms, quickly becoming picky about who got to hold her, she absolutely hated being in Han’s dad’s arms, and at best she tolerated his mom’s. 

“Oh, she just likes to be in her dad’s arms,” his mother commented once Haerin started crying and Han picked her up, holding her in his arms and calming her down. 

“Mom…” he tilted his head, “she probably just needs to get comfortable with you.” 

“No, no… babies know their parents,” his mother waved him off, “it’s natural. It’s okay, Jisung.”

“Don’t let him fool you,” you told your in-laws. “He spends most of his free time with her, he has basically turned himself into her bed.”

Han smiles sheepishly and his ears burn pink. “Well, she’s my baby! Of course I’ll hold her all I can!” He cradles her head softly, “she’s so small too… my baby girl…” 

You could tell that with a dad like Han, your little Haerin would be loved and cared for, she was going to live a good life being spoiled by her parents. She was going to be a daddy’s girl for sure as Han was already wrapped around her little finger. 

———

Comments, likes and reblogs are appreciated! Thank you for reading!

[g1rld1ary]

hope your requests r open! lockwood x reader where lockwood think reader likes george (but she doesnt) and reader thinks lockwood likes lucy (he doesnt). basically just a whole bunch of misunderstandings with angst and a happy ending please <3

miscommunications - anthony lockwood x fem!reader

wc: 6316

cw: swearing, angstish, series typical injuries

i am SO sorry this took so long lovie i had the biggest writers block but i loved loved loved this request so thank u for sending it in i hope i did it justice!!!! love u xoxo

Lockwood and Co was absolutely the weirdest psychical detective agency you’d ever been a part of. Not only were the actual case methods… unusual, but you were a bunch of kids. You didn’t know anything about running a company; the logistics of managing four teenagers and trying to be responsible whilst also experiencing hormones and teen dramas, all while living in the same house with no adult supervision. But it was great, most of the time at least.

However, even teen psychical detectives weren’t immune to the trap of cliques and you often ended up spending much more time with some members than others. For example, it often ended up being Lockwood and Lucy, and you and George.

It wasn’t necessarily a conscious decision or something that happened because you didn’t like the other two members of the agency, it just tended to be the easiest decision. Lockwood and Lucy were undeniably in perfect sync on the field, and you and George worked better in the research department, so it only made sense that those pairs spent more time together.

The only problem? You were totally in love with Lockwood. And you were pretty sure he was basically fucking married to Lucy Carlyle. They were the dream team on and off the field, you were half convinced they could actually read each other's minds. Plus, they were both genuinely amazing people. Lucy was your best friend and roommate at Portland Row, and you loved her with all your heart. And Lockwood? Well, there were a million and one good things to say about Anthony Lockwood. So who could blame you if you spent more time with George? It hurt less than watching the love story unfolding in front of you, and George was good company anyhow.

You couldn’t avoid them though, nor did you really want to, so life was testing your limits as to how much Locklyle you could handle at once.

You and George had been cooped up in the library most of the day looking through archives and research for the agency’s next case, so you’d been glad to get home and have a long warm shower in the evening. Lockwood and Lucy were off on a smaller case together so you’d had the bathroom all to yourself while George was cooking; a small luxury when living with three other teenagers.

Your hair was still wet as you sat down at the dining table in the kitchen, droplets sinking into the paper of the thinking cloth. It was a lovely dinner with George, he’d made your favourite meal upon request, the most glorious dish of butter chicken you thought might’ve ever been made. Everything should have been perfect, except that it was just the two of you. Again. It seemed like you never had family dinners as a four anymore, you and George stuck eating across from each other amongst empty chairs and untouched plates.

“So, anything new?” You made conversation in decent humour, picking at the chicken you weren’t quite as pleased to be eating anymore.

“Anything new in the twenty minutes we’ve been apart all day?” George replied in his characteristic dry tone. You rolled your eyes, trying to stay playful.

“Just checking.”

You took the cleanup after George did all the cooking, switching on the radio as you stood in front of the sink and washing the dishes in peaceful quiet. It was past midnight when the door jingled and creaked open and you could hear Lockwood and Lucy’s tired chatter floating through the old house. Even their damn voices belonged together, making the perfect cadence. You calculated whether you could get away with running up the stairs and pretending to be asleep before they really made it inside, however, agents are known for their speed, and you could hear boots hitting the floor before you could move.

“You’re still up?” Lucy asked as a greeting, stretching out her arms with a sigh. You smiled, shrugging as you began pouring hot water into the mugs you’d prepared earlier, making you all tea how you liked it. Lucy took hers gratefully, adding in the sugar as she pleased, but you were still yet to see Lockwood, taking the initiative to prepare it for him.

He came in a few minutes later, smiling softly as he looked at you.

“You’re a godsend.” He took the mug gratefully, visibly relaxing as the heat penetrated his body. You just smiled, turning back to the dishes.

“Thanks for the tea, I’ll head up to the shower,” Lucy said, patting you gratefully on the arm as she passed. That left you and Lockwood in the kitchen in careful silence.

You talked about nothing for a while, Lockwood filling you in on the tabloids he’d read the night before, and you told him all about the music and news you’d been listening to on the radio.

“How was the research, how’s George?” Lockwood was beside you now, taking a few of the plates you’d finished drying. His tone sounded almost bitter, but you figured it was his exhaustion taking hold.

“It was fine, I think we’re pretty much good to go for this weekend. Oh, you should have seen it! George absolutely stacked it on the steps of the library earlier. He’s fine, of course, but I nearly pissed my pants laughing, it was so funny.” Lockwood managed an unenthused chuckle, turning away to put the cutlery away in the drawer. “How was the case?” Lockwood made a noise of affirmation, coming back next to you, your shoulders brushing lightly.

“As well as cases can go,” He said, smile back on his face. You listened to him tell the bloody details of the case, illustrating his own heroic moves with a full production of actions and impressions, drawing giggles from you as he fought around the room. “And of course, Luce was brilliant as always, saved my arse for the millionth time.”

Fuck. Of course Lockwood was singing Lucy’s praises again, right in front of you! You couldn’t catch a break. You finally got a moment alone with the boy you had a massive embarrassing crush on and he was talking about your best friend! You could feel your smile fading fast, jealousy bubbling in your chest as you imagined them out on a case together, all quick banter and soft touches while you were at home. With George.

You tried to stay obliging, giving him a small smile and finishing up the drying quickly.

“Well, I should be off to bed. Goodnight, Lockwood.”

“You’re not gonna read with me?” You could have sworn that Lockwood had disappeared and been replaced with a kicked puppy the way his eyes were making your insides twist with guilt. You often sat up in the library with Lockwood; he could never sleep and you often made up for the late nights in the mornings, starting your days hours after everyone else. You held eye contact for a moment, willing yourself to be strong.

It didn’t work, and you found yourself back in your familiar spot in front of the fire, digging into your novel as he flipped through a magazine. When your eyes began to strain in the low lamplight you closed it softly, chancing a glance over at Lockwood. He looked almost perfect in the moment, yellow light illuminating the highlights in his face, his eyes glinting as he found humour in the dramatised tabloids.

He looked up suddenly, his senses evidently alerting him to your staring. His head tilted almost imperceptibly, curiosity seeping from his features. You smiled softly, unable to give him any explanation, so you were glad when he returned it in a way that made his whole face light up. You looked away first, studying your hands intently as you heard Lockwood breathe a subtle laugh.

Another case later, you were going crazy. You’d hit an obstacle (of course) and the case had started going awry. A few relicmen interfering with the site threw you all off your game, the original case put aside in favour of your lives. You and Lucy had been together when the ambush happened, both fighting as a team to protect yourselves. Admittedly you weren’t as fluid as her and Lockwood, but you blamed that on the lack of opportunity. You were doing pretty well for yourselves, all things considered. Still, you were grateful for the two boys to come bursting in like heroes, rapiers at the ready. What you didn’t appreciate was the way Lockwood immediately leapt to Lucy’s side, falling into their familiar rhythm. That left George to help you, the both of you sharing the quickest of looks, your eye roll lost to the fight.

You’d all made it out alive but were severely battered and disheartened. You’d all sustained a few cuts and bruises, you knew you were bleeding from somewhere in your midsection, but the adrenaline hadn’t worn off yet so you pushed through.

You also weren’t particularly glad to see Lockwood looking at Lucy like she’d hung all the stars in the sky in the cab on the way back. He hadn’t spared you a glance.

“I know this wasn’t exactly what we planned,” He said, still not making eye contact with you, “But we’re all okay so I think that’s a win. Luce, good job on the defence and keeping the relicmen at bay. George, brilliant catch with the source, mate, you saved us all. And, uh, good work.” He looked over briefly, but you thought he was looking slightly above you still. He didn’t even care enough to look at you on the case! It was absolutely maddening.

Sometimes, like now, you wondered why you even liked him. He was obsessed with another girl, barely paid you attention and had you begging for crumbs of affection. And yet, sometimes you were sure he liked you back. The soft smiles, the time together in the dead of night, the moments he showed you such gentle care. Lockwood was a puzzle you just couldn’t solve, but you were really, really trying.

You weren’t in the best mood when you all arrived home. Your case had been compromised, you were injured, and Lockwood was basically ignoring you. The night was not looking good. And, on top of all that, George called the first shower so it was unlikely there’d be any hot water left by the time you got in. Silently, you peeled off your overcoat, hanging it on your designated hook before discarding your rapier in the umbrella bin. The cut on your side was beginning to sting, the adrenaline having worn off in the cab, but you powered through, figuring you’d take care of it when you had privacy in the bathroom. Instead, you followed Lucy into the kitchen, chatting away as she made some toast.

She’d already left when you got up from the dining table, motivating yourself to make some tea and something to eat. Your body was starting to ache though, and you really didn’t want to be moving much longer. It was all mostly fine, though uncomfortable, until you were reaching up for the sugar for the tea. It was a little out of your reach up on one of the higher cupboards which usually wasn’t so much of an issue — you were a high jumper — but raising your arm above your head was making it feel like your cut was splitting open, pulling a strangled hiss from you.

“What is that?” Lockwood’s voice made you jump, the harshness unfamiliar. You turned slowly, folding your arms across your stomach in vain.

“It’s nothing, I was gonna look after it in a bit.” It was the first time you’d made proper eye contact with Lockwood all night, and he looked pissed.

“Bullshit,” He argued, gaining proximity, “Sit down.” You weren’t typically in the habit of being bossed around by a man, but you could tell Lockwood was serious so took a seat. He stomped around the kitchen rather dramatically, tossing you an ice pack from the freezer. You placed it tentatively over the cut, groaning and throwing your head back when it stung. Your breathing was shallow, erratic as you waited for the icepack to do its job and start numbing the pain.

When you unscrewed your eyes Lockwood was standing at the kitchen bench, aggressively buttering your toast. You watched him put together the meal you’d started, all with deep furrowed eyebrows, ending with him placing it in front of you, looking at you expectantly. You smiled at him despite the pain in your side, pulling the mug of tea closer. He’d made it just as you liked it, too much sugar and a bit of honey. You sipped it pathetically, tension bubbling between you and the boy in front of you.

“What’s new?” You asked in what you hoped was a lighthearted tone. Lockwood wasn’t impressed.

“Eat,” He urged, “You’ll already be weak from blood loss, don’t let yourself get dizzy from hunger too.” You took an exaggerated bite of the toast to appease him, melting into a moan when the food hit your mouth. Somehow, it tasted better than all the millions of times you’d made your own. Lockwood had found the perfect balance of butter and bread, soft in the middle but the crusts were still crunchy and satisfying. The corner of his mouth flicked into the smallest smile seeing you enjoy the food he’d made you, but it was clear he still wasn’t happy with you.

You continued to eat as he got up from his seat, disappearing out into the hallway for a moment. He returned with the first aid kit and you groaned. This was going to suck. Lockwood, ever the gentleman, asked for your permission to start helping you, lifting your already cherry red case shirt up to tuck under your bra, out of his way as he examined the cut. It wasn’t too deep, you didn’t think you’d need stitches or anything, but it was long, wrapping halfway across your stomach.

“This is going to hurt,” He said simply, but you could have sworn there was some gentleness there. Lightly, Lockwood began to clean your wound. Initially, it wasn’t so bad as he cleaned what had already spread and dried away from the cut which lulled you into a false sense of security. You cried out as he touched the wound itself for the first time, grabbing onto Lockwood’s shoulder for stability, though you were already seated.

“It’s okay, I’ll be quick. Promise,” He hushed you, offering his hand for you to grab instead. You clutched onto it for dear life, squeezing until both your fingers were turning white. Lockwood never uttered a complaint, working away at cleaning and treating the wound one-handed until it was done, stopping every so often for breaks when he thought you needed them.

When he was done he looked up at you from his position on his knees and it suddenly felt like the world around you was quiet. Lockwood’s eyes were so pretty. You’d always thought so, but it was particularly relevant when he was only inches away from you, sparkling in the amber light of the kitchen. Neither of you spoke, staring into each other’s eyes. You weren’t sure what to do, you didn’t want to end this moment between you but you didn’t know how to make it last. Well, you did, but that was highly inappropriate given Lockwood was in love with another girl.

“Thanks,” You settled on awkwardly, cringing as Lockwood seemed to realise where he was and what was happening.

“Any time,” He jumped up, backing up towards the sink and busying himself with pouring his own cup of tea.

You left the kitchen shortly after, unwilling to sit in the awkwardness any longer. The first step was to get out of the soiled clothes and clean yourself up a bit, the second was to flop back onto your bed, staring up at the ceiling of the attic.

“I’m going to die alone,” You said to the roof, catching the attention of your roommate.

“Don’t be stupid,” Lucy said simply, “You’re hot, anyone would be lucky to have you.” That pulled a smile from you, tilting your head back to look over at Lucy on her bed.

“Thanks, Luce. You know what I mean though.” Lucy rolled her eyes with a soft smile.

“If Lockwood can’t see all your brilliant, attractive qualities then he’s a prat.”

“I’m sure he sees many of my great qualities — he hired me. The issue is that he’s blinded by your brilliance.” It was a conversation you’d had countless times before; you decreeing Lockwood’s love for Lucy and Lucy being disgusted by it.

“You know that I have zero interest in Lockwood. Like, zero. Honestly, I’d sooner get with you than him.”

“Alright, alright, I get it. I have terrible taste in men,” You laughed, mostly cheered up.

Lucy flicked off the lamp, putting you to sleep with a story from before you’d joined the agency.

Lockwood had a similar conversation with George a few weeks later. It was after another case, all had gone well and the four of you were strewn about the house, tending to various chores that needed to get done. Lucy was mopping the floors, you were organising and putting away the mountain of books that had been used over the case, and Lockwood and George were both in the basement, tidying the store room and going over paperwork.

Lockwood looked at George, hunched over the form he was filling in, and wondered how to broach the subject. He thought you might’ve been avoiding him lately, which wasn’t exactly wrong, and thought it might be because you were trying to make your feelings for George known. In fact, it had nothing to do with George and everything to do with Lockwood. You figured if Lockwood hadn’t noticed by now that you liked him he never would, so you’d started the mountainous task of getting over him. It was unsurprisingly extremely difficult, given you lived and worked with the man. Still, you were doing the best you could.

“So, gone on any, uh, dates recently?” The sentence was awkward and Lockwood cringed. It was so unlike him and George to talk about anything emotional, especially romance.

“What are you on about?” George didn’t even bother looking up, figuring it was just one of Lockwood’s moments that he’d move on from soon enough.

“It’s just, you’ve never really dated anyone, at least while living here, so I was just asking. Um, maybe there’s someone in the house you’d like to take out?” George looked up, turning his wheelie chair to face Lockwood, resigning himself to the conversation he knew would follow.

“Yes, Lockwood. Can’t you hear Lucy and I having loud, passionate sex every night?” Both boys rolled their eyes.

“That’s not what I meant,” Lockwood grumbled.

“Then say what you mean. You’re trying to figure out if I like her because you do and you’re too scared to say anything about it.” Lockwood was silenced, caught out with his true intentions. “Let’s face it, you’re about as subtle as a car horn; you moon over her. She’s the only one who hasn’t noticed.”

“It doesn’t matter anyway,” Lockwood mumbled, “She likes you.” George burst out into uncharacteristic laughter, wheezing and gripping his stomach.

“God, you’re daft!” He laughed, “The two of you are perfect for each other, you’re hopeless.”

Lockwood made an excuse to leave, something about folding his laundry. George watched him go, rolling his eyes before turning back to his paperwork. If the two of you weren’t going to get his exceedingly obvious hints, you were going to have to work it out between yourselves.

Your angst was bleeding into the company. You were trying (and failing) to get over Lockwood which was not only making you generally miserable, but it was impeding your ability to be a good agent.

You were on a relatively easy case, and for some reason you’d been paired with Lockwood, a rarity. Lucy and George were on the second floor of the house scoping out where the source may be whilst you and Lockwood were on the ground floor, preparing your defences and putting on the tea kettle. It was extremely awkward. Lockwood was trying to make conversation and you were trying to keep it as short as possible. If you fell into conversation you’d be reminded of Lockwood’s many wonderful qualities, and it would just get harder to get over him.

“Did you end up finishing that book?” He asked as you pulled the chains out of their duffel bags. You perked up for a moment before forcing yourself to relax. You had finished the novel and absolutely loved it, you wanted nothing more than to talk about it. Still, you controlled yourself, shrugging off the question with a “Yeah, it was pretty good.” Lockwood hesitated, caught off guard by your answer. Usually you were keen to discuss what you’d been reading, especially if you liked it.

“Are you alright?” He asked, softness in his voice and eyes. Your heart clenched for a moment, you didn’t want to worry him.

“I’m fine, Lockwood, promise.” You busied yourself with arranging the salt bombs but you could still feel his eyes on you.

The case progressed, all four of you ending up on the second level of the house to confront the visitor, each splitting up to cover the different rooms. You were in the master bedroom when the en suite bathroom caught your eye. You could have sworn you saw movement near the shower and crept towards it, trying to stay focused and address the urgency on hand.

You were immediately distracted by the similarities between the en suite and the bathroom in Portland Row. Set out almost identically, it was almost scary how similar they were; George’s soap (fancy and way more expensive than the one the rest of you bought) was on the ledge of the shower, and Lucy’s blue hairbrush sat by the basin.

It wasn’t necessarily surprising that either of those items were there, they were both bought for cheap at a grocery store so ought to have been common, but it surprised you nonetheless. You’d been so distracted by the weird similarities that you didn’t notice the figure floating through the shower curtain until its translucent hand was beside your face. You panicked, the only thing you shouldn’t have been doing, and flailed about in the tiny room, rapier knocking bottles off shelves and creating a general racket that was not pleasing the ghost.

You stumbled on the tiles trying to get your footing and get the fuck out but slid on a slippery substance — probably conditioner from the bottle you’d sent flying to the ground. It was a comedy of errors you would have quoted as impossible in an old slapstick comedy, but there you were, and the consequences were infinitely more dire than those faced by Charlie Chaplin.

The proceeding moments vanished from your memory; a violent fall, a sickening crack and an overwhelming darkness. Three more moments of light where you caught visions of the ghost, Lockwood, and aggressive flashing lights.

You woke up in hospital. You wished it was the hazy, unsure innocence that you saw in movies, but the incessant beeping and sanitised smell had you groaning as you gained consciousness. Lockwood was slumped over in the chair next to your bed, breathing uncharacteristically calm as he slept.

You watched him sleep in the least creepy way you could manage, admiring his features when they weren’t scrunched up in worry or stress. He must’ve felt you watching him as his eyes fluttered open, doe eyes overflowing with relief as he saw you awake.

“You’re up, thank god,” He said, pulling his chair up even closer to you.

“Why am I here?” You asked, examining the various wires and machines you were plugged into.

“What aren’t you here for?” Lockwood joked and you tried for a smile. He straightened himself out and continued, “Linear skull fracture, concussion, scary-looking cut on your forehead. We think you slipped and bashed your head on the countertop.” You grimaced, the pain of the fall manifesting in your head.

“That would be right,” You agreed sheepishly, shifting uncomfortably in your hospital gown, “And the hand?” Your left hand was bandaged up so thick it looked more like an oven mitt than a hand.

“Ghost touch.” Lockwood didn’t sound so happy and casual now.

“Oh.”

“What happened? It’s not like you to put yourself in danger like that; it was stupid and reckless.” You didn’t understand why Lockwood was getting so angry. Clearly, you didn’t intend to get injured, it was an unfortunate accident that you would have avoided if you could.

“As opposed to you, who never gets injured and always sticks to the plan?” You couldn’t help the venom seeping into your voice but you detested being criticised by Lockwood when he was just as bad, usually worse.

“This isn’t about me,” He said through gritted teeth, clearly trying to keep his cool while you were vulnerable. You were angry though and didn’t want to back down.

“Of course this is about you, Lockwood! You wouldn’t blink an eye if it was you who’d ended up here, or George or Lucy. It was an honest mistake, why are you being such a dick about it?” You were raising your voice but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, the tension that had been bubbling for weeks coming to the surface.

“Because you could have died —”

“So could any of us, that’s the job! I still see you jumping head-first into danger.”

Lockwood groaned your name, hands in his hair and pulling in frustration. “You’re misunderstanding me, I just don’t want to watch you get hurt—”

“Then close your fucking eyes, Lockwood. I fell and I got injured. It happens and I resent having you treat me differently than the others. Fuck this, I want Lucy here instead, or George.”

“Of course you want George here, why wouldn’t you?”

“And what is that supposed to mean?” If you could stand you would be shoving past him and out the door, but you were at a significant disadvantage being hooked up to so many machines, stuck in your place.

“You know what I mean, you and George are such a close pair, aren’t you? Always working together and laughing about your own inside jokes,” He spat and the burning anger only got hotter.

“Are you fucking crazy right now? Or are you forgetting that you’re the head of this company and therefore you’re the one pairing us together in every case? Or are you so fucking busy making heart eyes at Lucy that you don’t even notice that we’re actually getting work done? Forgive us for trying to make ten hours of research bearable!”

“Heart eyes at Luce? You’re the crazy one, she and I are just friends, I swear. But you and George will make a great couple, I’m sure.”

“George and I couldn’t be less interested in each other! And if you could see past your own nose for once maybe you’d see why!” You all but yelled, surely alerting the whole floor of your argument, “Leave me alone, Lockwood, I don’t want you here anymore.”

Lockwood looked as if he was going to dispute that statement as well but a nurse came to your rescue, clearly hearing the disagreement from outside. She ushered him out, claiming it wasn’t good for your vitals to be getting angry and that you could continue the fight when you were discharged in a few day's time.

Alone in the sterile hospital room, you felt yourself beginning to cry, fat tears rolling down your cheeks and landing on your embarrassing patterned hospital gown. In a perfect world, that conversation would have gone completely differently. In a perfect world, Lockwood’s eyes would have softened when he saw you were awake. He would have confessed how worried he was about you and how much he truly cared for you. He would have brushed his lips across your hand that he was holding, then pressed them again against your own as he admitted how he’d always been in love with you. You didn’t know that it was your own defensive nature that had stopped that from happening.

But it wasn’t a perfect world and you were alone, overwhelmed by the various noises and movements going on around you. You did eventually fall back asleep, a fitful, unsatisfying nap that had you groaning and exhausted when you woke up. You weren’t alone though, which did make you feel better. George and Lucy were sitting next to your bed, deep in a whispered conversation.

“Hey,” You said, shimmying up to a sitting position. They both stopped talking immediately, turning to face you with small smiles on both their faces.

“How are you feeling?” Lucy asked, pulling her chair up to be right next to your bed.

“I’m alright now, just tired and worn down.”

“You scared us,” George added, characteristically stiff but clearly trying to be sensitive.

“I’m sorry,” You admitted, “I really didn’t mean to. And believe me, Lockwood’s already yelled at me enough for it, please just forgive me.” They looked at each other, communicating non-verbally.

“We heard,” George said, “He basically punched a hole in the wall trying to recount it.” He let out a clipped laugh before Lucy shoved him, signature glare working its magic.

“You should really apologise, he’s cut up about it.” Your mouth dropped open as you stared at Lucy. How was this your fault?

“I’m not apologising, he was the one who got angry. Right, George?” You pleaded with him, praying he wouldn’t let you down now.

“I… I don’t think it has to be right now, but you two should get over it after you’ve cooled down a bit.” Ok, it wasn’t exactly what you’d hoped he’d say, but it was better than nothing. And better than the moral lesson you knew Lucy would try and impose — what a hypocrite.

“But he was so mean!” You whined, “I seriously just had an unfortunate fall, I didn’t die.”

“But you could have,” George quipped and you rolled your eyes.

“You know it’s because he really cares about you, right? He’d never forgive himself if something happened to you and he couldn’t save you.” You couldn’t tell if Lucy’s statement was making you feel better or worse.

“Yeah, really felt like it when he was yelling at me,” You grumbled, fidgeting with the hem of the scratchy blanket.

“Well, you know Lockwood is emotionally constipated,” George added and you couldn’t help but burst into laughter — what a statement to come from George.

“OK,” You agreed finally, “I’ll apologise when we get home. As long as he stops being a massive prick.”

You were discharged a few days later, healing nicely. It would have been sooner, but the head injury worried your nurses and kept you there, not trusting you would stay on bed rest. Lucy came to your rescue, posing as a very concerned caretaker who would ensure your safety.

In fact, it wasn’t Lucy who was enforcing your bedrest. It was George who was cooking every meal and Lockwood doing all the other motherly fussing. You hadn’t discussed your fight yet, both too exhausted and too awkward to broach the subject. You hoped your six-to-eight-week recovery time wouldn’t consist of the same heavy tiredness, but you figured it would improve once the concussion had faded.

The rest of the company had started doing two-man cases so that someone was always home to supervise you. It was a little stifling but you appreciated the effort. It also shook up the status quo of the company, Lockwood and Lucy’s perfect partnership being disrupted by no one wanting to be left at home each time, which was both a blessing and a curse.

In your first few days of being back home at Portland Row, Lockwood was home with you, helping wash your hair. You’d whined so much about how gross it felt, still blood-stained where you cracked your skull open that Lockwood gave up and told you he’d wash it for you. Of course, you’d protested, saying it went way beyond what you could expect of a friend or coworker, but Lockwood would not take no for an answer, justifying that it would be more dangerous to let you do it yourself since you could mess with the stitches since you couldn’t see the back of your own head.

You sat awkwardly in the bath, dressed in an old t-shirt and bikini bottoms to preserve what dignity you could. Lockwood stood outside the bath behind you, preparing the bottles of shampoo and conditioner to his side. The anticipation was destroying you, becoming fidgety and uncomfortable even in the perfectly warm water. The second Lockwood’s slender fingers threaded through your greasy hair you felt your body soften, relaxing into the feeling with no opposition. The feeling was heavenly, the careful but thorough massaging of your scalp could have sent you to sleep in three seconds if you weren’t simultaneously on edge at the proximity.

You sat in peaceful silence for a few minutes, your head lolling back subconsciously against Lockwood’s forearms, drawing a small chuckle from him.

“I’m sorry for arguing with you the other day,” You said out of the blue, your voice cutting through the radio that was sitting next to the basin.

“It’s no worries, just forget about it,” Lockwood replied instantly, continuing his labours.

“No, I want to take this seriously. I said some terrible things I didn’t mean and I want you to know that I’m sorry for it. And, as I understand it you think I have some big crush on George which I would just like to disprove. I don’t. Like him like that, I mean.” Lockwood paused for a moment, hands going still in your hair.

“Oh,” He said after some time, “Well thank you for the apology but it is completely unnecessary. I started the argument and I was way out of line, I didn’t mean a word of it. What I meant to convey was that I was worried about you getting hurt because I… care about you. A lot.” You knew that was hard for Lockwood to say, vulnerability never coming easy to him. You turned to face him in the tub, knees pulled up to your chest as your just-rinsed hair dripped down onto your t-shirt.

“I care about you a lot too, Lockwood,” You smiled sweetly, glad you were finally getting over the weird tension that had been between you. Lockwood didn’t look as satisfied.

“No, it’s, fuck. I care about you in a different way than the others. I really like you, like, romantically.”

“Shut up,” You said quickly, not wanting to wake up from a sick dream. There was no way that Anthony Lockwood, after all these years, was telling you that he liked you. Lockwood looked lost for words. Obviously it wasn’t the impassioned reciprocation he hoped for, but it also wasn’t exactly a rejection. What was he supposed to do?

“I, uh, understand if you don’t—”

“Shut up,” You affirmed again. “I have been madly, foolishly in love with you since I started here, and you’re telling me this now? After we’ve screamed at each other and been moping around?” After a moment of him processing your statement, he began to laugh, mouth breaking into one of his light-up-the-room smiles.

“I guess so.” You joined in his laughter, admiring the way his eyes crinkled and his nose scrunched as he did it.

“So what now?” You asked once your giggles had died down, leaving you two looking at each other across the edge of the bath.

“Well,” Lockwood inched closer, “We could try this?” He leant in for a soft kiss, pressing his mouth against yours lightly. You subconsciously followed his mouth as he pulled away, unwilling to open your eyes just yet.

“Mmh, maybe we could try that one again?” Lockwood laughed at your daze and happily obliged, swooping back in for a longer, deeper kiss that set your nerves on fire.

And if Lucy and George returned from their case to find the two of you still in the bath fully clothed, that was none of your business — and neither was the ten pounds that George reluctantly handed Lucy.

[ediblecucumber]

Platonic Yandere Omega Dad x Abandoned child Reader pt2

You don't know where it all went wrong, one day everything was fine and the next your omega dad didn't want to be a family with you and your alpha daddy anymore

What should have been another normal day was filled with screams and pleas, you've never seen your parents fighting, much less heard them scream like that

Your alpha daddy was crying and your omega dad was saying sharp words as he picked up a suitcase and got ready to walk out the door, before leaving your life he looked at you one last time, his eyes were so cold

After that whole day was a mess, your alpha dad was trying to balance his work schedules to be able to pick you up and take you to school and now he also had to cook and clean the house, all the calls and surprise visits from the child protection center had a very apparent effect on him as his healthy and shiny appearance was replaced by a tired and unbalanced

The worst part of all was the days in court, watching your omega father fight to keep the family dog ​​while making it very clear to the court that he was not interested in having joint custody of you hurt you deeply. Were you less important than a dog? Hearing him tell the judge that he never wanted to be a mother and that he was never interested in playing that role in your life tore your little soul to pieces Were all those happy days when he said "I love you" to you lies?

With a father who was barely holding himself together in front of you and another who seemed to have simply disappeared into the world, there was no stability in your life. You were clinging to the hope that everything would be okay until you heard the news

"Honey, your omega father won't be able to come to your birthday because... because... because he adopted two little girls and they don't feel comfortable coming to your party, I'm sorry, I wanted... are you okay?"

No, you weren't okay, in court he had I had said that I wasn't ready to be a mother but it seems that that was a lie, or rather, he wasn't ready to be your mother, that was the first crack

After that day the excuses didn't stop, there was always an excuse for his absence

"Sorry but I can't go today, my oldest has a cheerleading practice and I need to take her, take her and then go pick you up only to have to go back to pick you up would be a waste of time, you understand right? Of course you understand you're a big kid"

"Sorry I couldn't go to your 7th birthday, and my youngest girl had a rough day so we went out with her to the spa to have a relaxing day, I ended up running late but don't worry I'll send you something"

"Was today the day of your competition? Sorry, I forgot because I was too busy planning the twins' birthday party, you weren't upset, right? Don't worry, next time I'll definitely be there HE'S LYING"

"I can't go today, one of the girls started her first heat today and I can't leave her alone, these are omega things you wouldn't understand"

With each excuse your insecurity and anger grew, every time he mentioned the twins your self-esteem decreased and you started comparing yourself more and more to them, if you were an omega would he love you as much as he loves them? Could it be that the problem is you?

Years of accumulating resentment came to a head on your 13th birthday, that was supposed to be a special day and being the loving and caring father that he is, your alpha father spared no expense to make each of your birthdays more memorable than the last

In truth, he is trying to console you through material goods, he does not have much free time because he needs to work more to pay the alimony that the court determined he must pay to his omega ex-husband, the alpha father can even work less but that would mean lowering your standard of living something he would never forgive himself for doing, you deserve the best so if he had to work more to pay for all the things that you would be a little happier then he is willing to face nights of exhaustion and overload

Unexpectedly the night before your omega father answered the phone call and agreed to spend the morning with you, your alpha father tried to call him every day to make sure that your omega father would go for a walk with you or at least answer your questions messages, despite your best efforts the omega ex husband always ended up ignoring you and this broke the alpha father's heart because nothing hurts a father's heart more than seeing his son hurt

So that morning you put on your best clothes, fixed your hair and waited for your omega father he was an hour late but that's okay, the traffic must have been bad right? RIGHT!?

When he arrived you were almost bursting with happiness, saying goodbye to your alpha father you eagerly got into your omega father's car, you couldn't wait to find out what he had planned for you

After a few minutes with only you talking to fill the silence you both arrive at the mall, a little disappointed but it's okay, the place isn't as important as the company, you eagerly follow him like a puppy while he does some shopping maybe one of the purchases is your birthday present!?, you're a little hungry but you can ignore it so everything is fine until you hear those two voices

"Daddyeeee" waving his arms one of the twins is screaming while the other is laughing, immediately your omega father seems to forget about you and goes towards them

The way he hugs and kisses them is very different from the way he treats you, he was only away from them for a few hours but he's saying how much he missed them but with you... with you he spends months yarn without seeing you and never gave you a hug like that this was the second crack

"Daddy thanks for buying these gifts for us, you bought all the items on the list!? You didn't have to" oh so the shopping was for them... he spent the whole morning of your birthday buying gifts for them this was the third crack

"Of course you did, we're celebrating that you're now officially part of the cheerleading team, I'm glad practice ended in time for us to meet up to celebrate" so in fact the intruder was you, he's not here to celebrate your birth he's here to celebrate their victory, he only met up with you because he had free time while waiting for them

You saw the three of them laughing and moving away from you, slowly they got further away each moment until you entered a restaurant that you were eager to try with your omega father, you wondered if they would notice that you stayed behind, if they would notice that you weren't at the table

NO, they didn't notice, the dishes were ordered and you watched them eat in a happy and laughing mood, today is your birthday and he simply forgot about you, this was the fourth and final crack

Stunned, somehow while you called your alpha father you felt dazed, it was like one moment you were full of feelings and the next you were completely empty of them

Your alpha father arrived quickly, you almost didn't notice him realizing he arrived only because he hugged you and took you out of the catatonic position you were sitting in on the street in front of the mall

The way home was silent, despite the alpha father's best efforts to try to make you smile you remained silent, expressionless until you got home and as soon as you walked through the door the dam collapsed

SCREAMS AND TEARS, you were having a fit on the floor, your chest was tight and you couldn't BREATHE BECAUSE YOU DIDN'T COULD YOU BREATHE?!?! EVERYTHING WAS TOO MUCH, THE FEELINGS WERE TOO MUCH

You had a PANIC ATTACK and had to be hospitalized, your party was canceled HATE, HATE, HATE is what he feels for his ex-husband, how DARE he do this to YOU!!! HOW DARE HE HURT THE MOST PRECIOUS THING OF THE ALPHA FATHER!? If he could, he would KILL that man. Your alpha father had to miss work to spend the entire hospital stay with you.

You were eventually released and received a recommendation for a child psychologist who specialized in dealing with children who suffer from parental abandonment. Your alpha father was already doing the math to see how many sleepless nights full of work would be necessary to pay for the hospital, the medicine, and the psychologist.

You didn't know what your life would be like from that moment on, but you were sure of one thing, something in you broke and could never be fixed. A heart could only be broken a certain amount of times until the pieces were too small and uneven to be glued back together.

Unbeknownst to you, in five years' time, you would be forced to confront your omega father.

[dearweirdme]

“It has nothing to do with this being trips he took with Jm. It has everything to do with this having been work and the way I saw Jk on the show.”

Again, those were Jk’s experiences. The trips were work yes but you don’t know that they felt like work to him do you? I am a hairstylist by profession, that is my Job, my work but I could do 10 clients hair on the same day and it wouldn’t feel like work to me because I love doing it so you cannot speak on people’s experiences based on the ones you believe are work and not work because you don’t know how they feel about that “work”. You also talk about the way you saw Jk in the show but that is subjective and the way you think you saw him could just be a matter of you not knowing him as much as you think you do or you just reading him wrong. Take Tae for example, many people read him so wrong because they assume that his blank face is him being mad or being bitchy or being rude when mostly he is just zoned out or has his resting face on. An anon just mentioned a few asks down how many people don’t understand that just has a blank face sometimes which doesn’t mean he is mad. Imagine someone coming to tell you that Tae is rude or bitchy or arrogant because of how they see his face. See how it sounds right?

You’ve never seen what Jk is like on an actual private vacation or trip, you don’t know how he looks, what his moods are or none of that so how do you compare? This is a matter of perspective and you could be looking at things in a completely different way than Jk is. To you it was work and must have felt like work so you don’t see how Jk could place something like that at the top of his list but to Jk, maybe it was work that didn’t feel like work, maybe it was a chance to get away from his actual work which was physically and mentally exhausting and just whine down. Maybe he enjoyed the chaos, the ups and downs and how unpredictable things were. Maybe on all or most of his other trips he had always known what to expect but maybe in these ones it was the unexpected things that made things fun. Maybe it was him getting to do a bunch of things he liked to do on the trips almost all at once, or maybe it was how the places and people made him feel in those moments so I don’t think you can measure where people rank their trips depending on if it was work or not or how you think they looked during the trips for the simple fact that your perspective of things could have been very different from Jk’s. What you saw as him being overworked, he probably saw as freedom or a chance to get away as he said, what you saw as him being disinterested or tired or angry was probably him just probably sitting there and not thinking of much.

Someone mentioned in the comments that they believe Jk lied because they have eyes. What of those who have eyes and ears and saw those moments in the solo where Jk seemed dismissive of Tae? Are they correct to assume Jk hates Tae because he refused to sing “LMA” a second time on Live when he was asked to? Would you say he hates Tae because Jk publicly supported Jm than Tae? Would you say he hates Tae because he doesn’t talk much about his hangouts with Tae while Tae does? Those are things Jk did, people saw and assumed that he didn’t like Tae and wouldn’t speak about their hangouts like Tae did because he didn’t care for them. Would you agree with them because they have eyes and that is what they saw? You see the issue with this line of thought?

Yeah well, welcome to Tumblr anon, the place where everyone goes on and on about their interpretation of things. You’ve heard my thoughts, I’ve heard yours.. I find it a bit odd that you go so strongly about a mere nuance (the nuance being that I think Jk had a good time, but not the best time). We’re not going to agree. I could easily go into to everything you mentioned, but I’m tired and sick and just can’t be bothered right now.

[spookyquill]

Hi! Saw you're taking JJK requests and here I am. I'm sick and just not getting out of bed so kind of wanted a fic with Satoru where hebwas away for a mission and got back only to find his wife sick (like, nothing life threatening. Just a cold or fever or something) so he decides to take care of her but she feels bad because he's so busy and has to 'deal with her being sick', especially after he just got back from a mission. Thank you so much if you decide to do it! I'm on a different account right now but please tag @ladyodpandemonium if you write the fic so I can catch it. Big thanks!!!

Apologies for the delay, trying to focus on myself and that includes letting some requests go. But I have some drafts ready to post so look out for them.

@ladyodpandemonium

~•~

Bleary eyes open, your head pounding despite the long rest you just took. Snot drips down from your nose and onto the pillow you rest on. With a disgusted groan, you reach over to your bed side table and pull out a couple tissues from the box. As you hold the tissues to your nose, you take notice of the other things occupying your table.

A couple boxes of pills and a glass of water sit there idly next to the box of tissues. They had not been there when you collapsed on your bed. You didn’t even think of those things. Which really meant only one thing.

Gojo kneeled in front of you, his concern etched on his face as he gently tucked your hair behind your ear.

You groan in contentment. “You’re supposed to be on a mission.”

“I’ve completed that. I came home expecting you to be doing pointless chores or something, but instead I’ve found you cuddled up sick in bed.” Gojo sighs, moving his hand to cup your cheek. “Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve left the mission early to come take care of you.”

You lean into his touch, his palm cool against your flush skin. “I didn’t want to disturb you- wait.” You lift your head up, looking for your phone. “What day is it?”

Gojo gently guided your head back to your pillow, silencing your search. “It’s Thursday. How long have you been sick for?”

Panic washes over you. “Shit. I came to bed on Tuesday. Shit I overslept!” You sit up, ignoring the pulsing headache beginning to take shape. “Why didn’t my alarm go off?!”

Gojo is quick to stop your attempts to get up, standing and keeping your ass on the mattress with his hand on your shoulders. “You obviously needed the sleep. Stay in bed, you need to rest.” When you stop fighting against him, mainly because of the overbearing headache, he moves to sit on the side of your bed, pressing the back of his hand to your forehead and grimacing. “Have you eaten anything?”

You tried to eat something before you went to your bedroom, but everything in the fridge made you nauseous and you couldn’t think enough to cook or heat up some food. Your growling stomach answers gojos questions before you can verbalise any response.

Gojo nods. “Stay here. I’ll heat up some soup for you.”

You shake your head, which protests angrily at the movement. “No, I don’t want to get you sick. I’ve already bothered you enough. You shouldn’t have to deal with me being sick. You’ve been so busy and I don’t want to get you sick because of me.”

Gojo lifts a finger to your chin, tilting it up to look at his sparkling blue eyes. “Nothing matters but you at the moment. I’ll never be too busy for you and I don’t want you to think that you’re a bother to me at all. You take priority over everything else in this world.” He presses a soft kiss to your temple. “Now stay right here, lean against the head rest while I go prep some soup for you. I want you to have something to eat. Keep your energy up.”

You sigh in defeat, mumbling an agreement as he walks out the room. It doesn’t take long for him to come back, but he walks back in to find you almost falling asleep again.

“Baby, I know you’re tired still but I would really appreciate you having something to eat.”

You grumble, eyes lifting lazily to stare at the soup in his hands. Even the thought of lifting your hands exhausts you. And Gojo sees this.

He walks around to the other side of the bed, soup still in hand, and carefully climbs on top of it, nestling himself beside you. He nudges your body to lean upright against him, your cheek pressed to his chest and one arm falling into his lap. He hears your sigh of relief and can feel your muscles relaxing into him. He brings the soup over to you, spoon sitting in it. He holds the bowl with one hand and grabs the spoon with the other, encasing you with his embrace as he does so.

You watch as he scoops up some soup into the spoon and carefully brings the spoon to your lips. As soon as the soup trickles down your throat, you let out a soft hum.

Gojo continues to spoon feed you the whole soup, thankful that your eating something at least. Once the bowl is empty, he places the spoon down in it and puts the bowl on his bedside table. When he looks back to you, he finds you already snoring softly against him.

He lets out a light chuckle. “Get some sleep babe, I’ll be right here when you wake up, ready to take care of you.”

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

really wish my one friend would quit flirting with me. and trying to goad me into hanging out more. and assigning us fictional characters that are oh-so-coincidently either couples or with romantic tension. and then interrupting our gameplay to ask me repeatedly if I think they’re “like us” (which they rarely are…). and matching my icon on discord without asking (again, usually by insinuating a couple connection). and giving me random things I do not want and did not ask to receive (and then forcing me to take them???).

[entering--hyperspace]

Cannot imagine whatever is going on through Mr Leonard Echowatcher's head. You spend your life yearning for a world where you lived differently, where the day wasnt soaked in war, blood, and battle. Where you could envision a future where you have a partner and a family with friends to live gracefully with. But then you are given such opportunities only to find you were never taught to be gentle, you have a gentle, empathetic nature and yet the physicality of it is a stranger to you. You are expected to raise a child with gentle hands so that she saves the world, What does that even mean? How can you accept your growing love for your friend when you were never taught how to love, that intimate love is a luxury best left forgotten, there are no need for such things in war. He has to learn to become the things he wanted bc he grew too old to develop it naturally. He becomes a father to taimi fumbling his way into learning how to care and parent, he is defensive of Aurene bc he is from a culture where they arent expected to raise their own young and yet has to do so with a dragon. It feels like a test, He has to prove both to others and to himself he is capable of being a father, of nuturing, that calloused, stained hands can still be gentle. He has to accept that love is a terrifying leap of faith in vulnerability in order to gain a partnership that is considered a rarity. I love the idea that he spent 30 years yearning for things he thought he would never have and when he is actually given those opportunities (albeit admittedly through unusual circumstances) he has to learn how to actually live in them, becuase they were always just Concepts until now. Ohhhh my god Mr. Leo you are my everything

[buttercup-barf]

Under the cut are mostly self-insert doodles of decreasing quality. Again, not much directly tied to Team Fortress 2. Might as well toss these out while I have no access to my puter. Much yapping under the cut and in the tags incoming.

Another self-insert, this time less of a "here's me as a tenth class" and more of a "here's my game experiences translated into the class I would take the place of". The Cleaner. Although I guess they could still be wearing either suit. It doesn't matter that much.

That one Convict's Case taunt with Backup would be extremely funny, because the man would be on the verge of a breakdown (he does not want to go to jail so bad you have no idea). The second image- I owe no explanation. You know what I am. You see the pattern with my favourites.

The duality of the man. Resting face versus "just heard you express interest in religion/Russian folklore" face. He's not that hard to make friends with, when you pull him away from all the explosions.

Some doodles of trying to figure his face out. Unfortunately, the more I stare at him, the more I worry that he looks like A Certain Guy With The Last Name "Kazarin", and the fear of never being original in my life caught up to me.

Don't look at me, don't perceive me, I refuse to explain any of my actions to you.