#i forgot the point of him not wanting to take money for his work because he writes for the idea and not profit

[ohgoditssnek]

It's this time of the month when snek complains about bungo stray dogs.

However, this time it is not entirely about bsd and more about general portrail of Lovecraft inspired characters in media. But since im too busy working on my diploma to write an actual paper about this topic, i will default to just being disappointed in bsd writing. And bsd Lovecraft is a good example.

So, anyways. Lovecraft is boring af as a character. I assume there is a piece of media that managed to make him fun that i missed, but bsd Lovecraft is nothing. So most of the others. And the reason is that they aren't based on the writer himself, but rather on one of his works. His nothing but a shallow Call of Cthulhu reference. Silly eldritch tentacle monster. In bsd his just a prop, standing there, being...tired. Yeah, yeah, Cthulhu sleeping in the depths of the ocean. I get it.

I assume Lovecraft as a person isn't very exciting. But the idea of making him into tentacle critter is even less exciting. That's the first thing that comes to mind and it's boring and unimaginative. That sort of interpretation just tells me that you don't know anything about the author really. It's the same thing as basing Lewis Carroll character ENTIRELY on Alice in wonderland.

If you want to make Lovecraft character based on his work at least choose less obvious one. Call of Cthulhu isn't even good. Lovecraft has much more interesting compelling works than this one. I know. I read all of them. I had a hypefixation moment, that's why I care about Lovecraft do much. I know too much information about him.

And H. P. Lovecraft is an IDIOT. He's STUPID. He's such a prick not like other girls hikka that it's hilarious. This man roleplayed with his panpals, he was talking about food SO MUCH in his letters, he kinned every 18-19 century poet and writer, he was an Edgar Allan Poe fangirl. Lovecraft was such a mess, I'd like to talk to him really. He wouldn't like me probably, because I'm not American and not even western European. And we both have such horrible social anxiety, we'd just sit in awkward silence and then I'd infodump about bees and dsmp lore and break him like a victorian child, unless he'd actually find concept of Minecraft roleplay interesting... BUT ANYWAYS BACK TO THE TOPIC.

Bsd Lovecraft is nothing but a plot device. He's there to be big scary monster for soukoku to fight. Nothing wrong with big scary monster to fight it's just. He has no personality, there's nothing exciting about him, no interesting thoughts or interpretations. Just an eldritch monster.

But you can make him so much more than that. He could be so out of touch with reality because his only source of information about society were old literature book, just like real life Lovecraft grew up petty much in isolation with a company of century old stories. Make him complain about humans, make him obsessed fashion, because he wants to look like a real gentlemen, but then he misses the point entirely. Just like real Lovecraft did. You can make his reason for helping Fitzgerald not some shady contract, but his own will to do something for a noble cause. There's so much more that you can do with him, instead of making him into apathetic wall with do a scary button.

But why bother writing all that for a background character who's only on screen for half an hour?

Why bother including him at all? I'm sure there's a way to do a soukoku moment without him in the narrative. Bsd has do many characters it won't make a difference if you remove someone of them. What's the point of forcing in a character if you not interested in making them fun or exploring them.

It's the whole premise of bungo stray dogs, isn't it? You come to see cool autor interpretation. Bsd is borne out of love for literature and writers, but then some of the characters get so much less attention and care then others. And it's not even that hard to write a good character when you have a real person as a reference. How'd come so many bsd characters are nothing but blank pages and troupes? If not for literature, half of the people won't be interested in the story.

Bsd is very strange media to consume. You have to wach anime, read manga, read novells to understand the characters and setting, and then you have to read autors' works and biographies to understand the meta (and because people will bully you on the internet if you don't). But then. Then you look at it as a whole and. It feels like a fever dream. It rushes to tell you all the cool stuff, but then it's either not enough stuff or too much stuff and you have to go do homework to understand what that was about. It almost can't pick want it wants to be.

Bsd is just one big fanfiction that just wants to play with all those cool characters and doesn't want to do boring storytelling stuff.

And idk.

Slay?

What was i talking about by the way? Ah yes, Lovecraft. Please stop making him into Cthulhu. That's boring.

Thanks for coming to my ted talk, i will now proceed to write logistic strategy for a small game development studio in Poland.

[dcxdpdabbles]

God danny taking pics at the gala and tim just being enthralled by him while danny is completely oblivious to the fact that this is his birdie

When Danny reaches the podium, he realizes he doesn't have a speech ready. He doesn't even have a topic on what he should be speaking about. He barely knows what kind of art this charity funds.

Is it painting? The theater? Writers? Digital? Music? Who knows, not Danny. He just knows that it was for kids.

He is also still holding Ryan's hand, so the other man is forced to walk up with him. He didn't mean to cling to the overwhelmed ex-waiter, but Danny was really nervous right now, and he forgot his strength when holding on. So, despite Ryan's few frantic tugs, Danny's trembling fingers locked his plam in an iron cage.

A sea of faces is aimed at them, people who make thousands a day, waiting for Danny to open his mouth and deliver a speech on a donation that he supposedly made.

In the front row, Danny can spot Oliver Green and Bruce Wayne, who each recently gave five million to the art programs. Danny knows this because there was a joke online that the two were trying to outdo each other. It was a game to them, yet somehow, Danny Fenton is the name that appears with the most money donated.

The bright spotlight is blinding, to the point that Danny feels like he is going to sweat through his suit.

How much did Lady Gotham donate?

Rayn nervously shifts on his feet, his hand also starting to get sweaty in Danny's hold. He gives the other man what he hopes is a comforting smile and only receives a bewildered, nervous grimace in turn. Danny wishes he could offer to comfort him, but with the very little Gala training he has from the Ghost Nobility Meeting, he knows he can't afford it.

He turns to the crowd, leaning towards the mic with a crooked smile. Danny swears that whenever he had to uphold the duties of his title, it felt like the transformation of Phantom overtaking his body, covering every inch until the uncool nerdy Fenton was gone. All that remains is the High King Phantom.

"Good evening. I am Danny Fenton, and I just want to thank Mr. Wayne for organizing such an important event for the arts. What is art? Art is everywhere- the melodies of our music, the design of our clothes, and the wonder in our stories, movies, plays, and books. Even the shelter of our homes has art. It's proof of humanity, for it was the first way humans ever recorded their existence, and we used it to change our reality."

He smiles at the crows, using one hand to gracefully gesture to the ceiling that Mr. Wayne's family has tastefully decorated with wood carvings. "It's this wonder that we are now offering to our youths so that they may one day look up at a similar world and fine the wonder in it"

He has no idea what he's going on about. Public speaking has never been his strong suit, but thankfully, he has enough regal to make it appear he does.

Danny's articulation has smoothed out, turning each word into a hypnotic, soothing rumble that washes over the party. He knows it's working because the people's expressions have now shifted, looking both surprised and captivated as more and more phrases fall from Danny's tongue.

If you were to ask him how he knows this, well, he would mention that Sam had once taken a video of him while he was practicing his King's address, and he had been stupefied that Phantom had always sounded so confident, sass, and in control. He never raised his voice, but his words were sharper, and an accent from the high class appeared in his tone.

It had been enough to make Phantom look like a King since the start of the human race, and Danny was grateful that, like invisibility, it could pass along to his human side without a full transformation.

It felt like an out-of-body experience—he knew he was speaking, he could see the absolutely enthralled audience, and he could even feel Ryan's hand and the heat of the light, but for the life of him, Danny could not understand what he was saying.

If this was a movie, it would be the montage of a slow pan over the people, dramatic, inspirational music playing in the background to draw out whatever he was saying, and only the visible of Danny dramatically talking, but not actual speech was heard.

It was Lady Gotham. She had taken over his body and set it to autopilot. He knew because Clockwork had once done it to him when Danny was unsure about the move to Gotham.

At least she stepped in when he needed her the most.

"Thank you for your time," Danny finishes, feeling Phantom's confidence melt away as the roaring round of applause echoes through the ballroom. Slowly, he feels the control of his limbs return to him as he pushes away from the podium.

"Wow," Ryan gasps, staring at him with wide shining eyes. He looks like his breath has collapsed in his lungs. Danny feels his face heat up as the handsome man continues to stare. "That was the most beautiful speech I've ever heard. You're... incredible."

"Nah, man, I just really like...the arts." He fumbles. "Like taking photos 'cause I have...a camera." Danny shutters, gesturing to the thing hanging around his neck. "It got lens and everything."

Ryan blinks at him. "Are you nervous?"

"Yeah"

"Why? You just gave the most impressive inspirational speech I've ever heard."

"It's because you're hot and you're talking to me, and I'm not good with people," Danny tells him honestly, dropping Ryan's hand to rub at his neck. I also really want to take the Waynes' photos and be gone, back to the streets."

Ryan laughs, throwing his whole head back and trying to cover his mouth with his hand. Danny's eyes widened, utterly shocked by how bright he seemed now. "You, Danny Fenton, are the strangest man I have ever met, and I've only known you for an hour!"

Danny's face turns hotter. "Yeah...I ugh...I get that a lot."

There is a moment of silence, during which the clicking of people's wine glasses and the slow mutter of voices wash over them. Ryan considers him with a critical eye before he holds out his hand once more. "Do you care for a dance?"

"Dance? With me?" Danny repeats, but at Ryan's answering smile, he feels himself melt. Retaking the hand, he held through the long speech, Danny grins, "I love to. But only one song. I have to find the Waynes afterward."

"Why?"

"I'm on a job, actually. My client hired me to take photos of them."

"That's an odd request," Ryan comments, bringing Danny in close to sway to the music that plays. Danny shrugs his shoulders, carefully following the steps Princess Dora had taught him.

"She's an odd lady."

_________________________________________________________

Across the hall, Jason is watching the pair with intensity. Tim can understand the urge to figure out the new player because he knows who Danny Fenton is and where on earth he had hidden his wealth until this sudden splash.

However, that was mostly due to Tim's upbringing and current CEO job. What made Jason so focused on him? His brother usually never even blinked on any new money or old money.

He thought them too annoying and only came to galas to keep the civilian image up.

"Something on your mind, Jay?" He asks quietly, leaning on the wall and sipping his sparkling water.

"That's Ryan Aetos. One of my...employees."

Ah, a Red Hood Goon.

That could mean two things: Aetos needed more money for whatever reason and took a legitimate part-time job when not making rounds with the rest of the gang, or he was going rogue and planning on betraying Jason.

He was going to break one of Jason's rules, likely where they don't target the crazy rich because the crazy rich could buy the law and bring down it's wrath until the gang's territory.

In Tim's experience, it was seldom the first option.

"Do you think he'll do something?"

"I don't know. He seemed genuine when he spoke about his sick sister- she's why he's been trying to make a quick buck to pay for her medical bills- but he also has a reputation."

"What kind of reputation?"

"Manipulating and one hell of a Romance scammer." Jason grunts. "I've seen him trick three people into funding his lifestyle by batting his eyelashes. I've let him be since he never targeted anyone who didn't deserve it, and it was one less corner boy I had to worry about. But if he's pulling that now on Fenton...."

"Then Fenton may not react very well when he finds out. And we don't have enough information on him to know what he would do to Aetos." Tim finishes turning now to also observe the couple. Fenton is a flustered mess, seeming to be rambling and far too interested in the man wearing the waiter outfit.

Aetos, for his part, is smiling down at him with a content little grin and an adoring expression. It's hard to say if it's an honest one, though, because whenever Fenton glances away, hunger bleeds into Aeto's face.

Is the hunger of a man attracted to another man?

Or the hunger of a man attracted to greed?

Crude.

"What's your call?" He asks Jason since it is his employee. Betrayal or not, Jason has always cared deeply for those he considered his, including the men and women in his gang.

Jason watches for three more songs in silence before sighing. "Separate them. I'll take Ryan and see if I can figure out his plan. You find out more about Fenton. Maybe it is just New Money falling in love with a man down on his luck who's trying to care for his little sister."

"Sounds like a Hallmark movie," Tim jokes, pushing away from the wall. "I've always hated how cliche those movies are"

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 19 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: More friends meet Rose, and your parents fly home, leaving the three of you to figure things out together. Bradley is struggling with the six week rule, deeming it unfair that you look so good while he can't have you the way he wants to.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, lactation kink, messing around, oral sex, DILF Roo

Length: 4100 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

By your parents' last evening in San Diego, Bradley had put them in touch with the realtor he used to buy the Craftsman. They spent hours walking around Coronado with Rose in her stroller all week, looking at houses and getting more ideas. And then they delayed their flight home two times. The fact that they didn't seem to want to leave their grandchild was heartwarming, and now they were seriously talking about moving.

"By the end of the year, we are moving" your mom said, burping Rose in the living room. "I just can't stand the idea of waiting until July to see her again. Makes me want to cry."

It was April now, and they promised to come back for a visit around Independence Day. Bradley already had plans circling in his mind about where he could take you for a few days alone, because things were about to get a lot tougher without your parents around. The two of you were going to need a little vacation to look forward to. And if he could get you alone, he could get his hands all over you as much as the two of you wanted.

"So, are we going back to Mexico or Hawaii in July?" Bradley asked later that night while he watched you get undressed before bed. Your tits looked incredible, nipples huge and pert as you removed your nursing bra.

He forgot what he had even asked you as you ran your fingertips along your breasts and scoffed at him. "Neither, Roo. We have to get serious about saving money for Rose to go to college in just eighteen years." When you pulled your shorts down, he could see your rooster tattoo, and now he really couldn't think.

Bradley grunted. "She'll get a full ride to school. She takes after you. She's already a genius. Whenever I call Tramp, she points right at the dog."

You sighed and smiled at him. "I think you're being optimistic." Your hands were back on your tits, and he immediately reached for his cock, your eyes tracking his every move. "Bradley."

"What?" he rasped, thinking about last week in the backseat of the Bronco. That was the last time the two of you really messed around, and he could tell there were moments when you were uncomfortable in your own skin. But he hadn't stopped wanting you for a single moment. "How do you expect me to watch you strutting around the bedroom completely naked and not get hard?"

You turned toward the bathroom for a few seconds and muttered, "I look weird."

"You look beautiful." When you finally met his gaze, he said, "I love you too much to lie to you, Sweetheart."

He was plainly hard in his boxer briefs with his hand resting on his thigh. He'd never try to pressure you to do anything physical if you didn't want to, but there was no way he was going to let you think you suddenly turned him on less than before.

You dragged your fingers across your breasts again, and Bradley groaned before you tangled your fingers in your necklace chain. You looked a bit bashful, and even that was fucking him up.

His voice was raspy, and his throat was dry as he sat up and asked, "Do you want me to show you?"

You shrugged and looked at him out of the corner of your eye. "Only if you want to."

He was up off the bed in an instant, grabbing you as gently as he could. "Roo," you gasped in surprise as he carried you back to the bed.

You were completely naked, head on his pillow, leg hitched around his hip, and Bradley kissed you so hard, you were moaning. "If you leave the decision up to me, I'm always going to want to show you how I feel about you," he said, voice deep and needy. His fingers grazed along your body, lower and lower until he touched your clit, and you arched off the bed.

"Fuck," you moaned, voice breaking.

"You're so fucking hot," he whispered, running just his index finger through your pussy. You were soaking wet. "You're killing me, Baby Girl." He traced your tattoo, decorating your skin with your wetness while you looked up at him with parted lips and half lidded eyes. You watched him bring his finger up to his lips, and with one swipe of his tongue, he was moaning, too. "Six weeks is a long time when you look this pretty and taste this sweet."

Your teeth sank into your lip before you murmured, "You're killing me, too." Then your fingers were tangled in his hair, and he eased his body down so he was resting against the warmth of your core. It was so close to what he wanted right now, but he knew he couldn't go all the way there. The frustration building inside him was almost pleasurable as you gasped his name as he sucked on your neck.

Nails pressing into his scalp, you didn't stop him when he pulled himself free from his boxer briefs and ran his cock through your pussy. "Jesus Christ," he hissed, guiding his hips away from your body as you pushed him off of you. But instead of telling him to stop, you rolled him onto his back and yanked his underwear down his legs.

His cock was in between your lips before he knew what was going on, and he saw stars as you sucked on him. "Fuck, Sweetheart. Oh, god."

You pulled him free and shook your head. "If you can't be quiet, then I can't give you a blowjob. My parents are out in the living room."

"Please, stop talking about your parents and just give me head," he begged, already panting as you smirked at him. His balls were already tight as you licked your lips and parted them once more for him. Your tits looked irresistible as you knelt between his spread legs, and he would be lucky to last a full minute with this kind of treatment. "I was supposed to be the one showing you how much I want you," he whispered, trying not to thrust up into your mouth.

You responded by taking him deeper until he was grabbing at the bedding to hold back his orgasm. This time when you pulled him free, your saliva dripped onto his thigh. "Just take what I can give you right now."

Two pumps of your fist, and you were sucking on him until he came long and hard, fist in his mouth to make sure he was quiet. You swallowed down his cum and licked him clean as he stared at the ceiling in a daze. "You give me everything."

------------------------------

You fell asleep with a smile on your lips after your husband took his time with you, rubbing your clit with practiced fingers and whispering the dirtiest things about how good he was going to fuck you in another few weeks. As it turns out, you also needed to be reminded to be as quiet as possible, especially when he was a whining mess over your breasts.

Even though you knew Rose would have you up in a few more hours, you let yourself drift off to the sound of Bradley's heavy breathing and the warmth of his body. Whenever you started to feel bad about the way you looked, he seemed to be able to lure you back on track. He didn't mind your weird body one bit, and in fact, he was literally counting down the days until you and he could have intercourse. And you wanted it, too.

You barely heard your daughter when she started crying to eat around midnight, because your mom was in the nursery with her so quickly, it was ridiculous. When you padded down the hallway, still half asleep, you could hear her singing to her granddaughter. 

"I got her," you murmured when you walked into the room, and you realized your mom was crying. "Are you okay?"

She kissed Rose's head and whispered, "Of course. I just don't want to be so far away from the three of you. Rose is exactly the way you were as a newborn; a sweet little snuggle bug who turns into a bit of a terror when she's hungry. I can't get enough of her."

You laughed as you sat down in the glider, and she handed your daughter to you once you were ready to feed her. Rose curled up against your body, clearly very hungry. "She is honestly so sweet."

"I love her so much," your mom whispered. "Are you going to be okay when we leave in a few hours?"

You stared at the night light in the corner of the room, surrounded by darkness otherwise. The exhaustion you felt since Rose was born started to get better while they were here, and you knew for a fact that things would start to get harder again soon. "Yeah. We'll be okay. Bradley and I will take some vacation time in July when you come back to stay with her." You met your mom's eyes where she stood. "You and dad are really good at this."

"I'm happy you think so," she said softly. "Retirement is looking better by the minute."

She sounded like she was about to cry again, so you politely kicked her out of the nursery before she could start. She needed to get some rest before their flight home, and you needed to get used to doing this on your own again. You almost craved the routine of going back to work. You missed seeing Cat every day, and you even missed your boss. Rose would be old enough for the daycare pretty soon, and you could sneak over on your lunch breaks to check on her.

But at the same time, the idea of someone else taking care of her for eight hours a day had you almost panicking. "Why are you like this?" you whispered to yourself. You could barely control your emotions at times right now.

"My girls okay?"

Just hearing Bradley's voice made you relax, and you realized Rose was starting to slow down as you turned to look at him in the doorway. "Yeah. I was trying to let you sleep."

He gave you grabby hands, and you noticed he had the Nugget notebook tucked under his arm. "Let me burp her and read a bedtime story so you can go back to sleep."

You knew he had to drop your parents off at the airport in a few hours and then turn around and go right to work, but he wasn't going to be deterred. He took Rose and settled down on the floor with a grunt, kissing her head as she yawned. With the night light shining next to him, he juggled her and opened the notebook, and you stood in the doorway and listened for a few minutes as he read one of his entries to her.

"You'll never guess where I am right now. No really. It would be impossible, because even I don't really know where I am! But it's somewhere in the Pacific Ocean, I know that for sure. And while I'm really, really far away from you and your mom right now, the two of you are all I can think about."

--------------------------------

Bradley was standing in the living room wearing Rose in her carrier and holding two massive bags filled with gear. "Is this all really necessary?" he asked as you ran around grabbing more stuff.

"Do you think we should drive?" you asked, popping the stroller open and looking at it with concern.

"Sweetheart, the beach is like three blocks away," he replied, trying to keep his tone even.

"The beach with a lot of rocks is like three blocks away," you said, exasperation lacing your voice. "Do you think we should drive up to the better beach?"

In his opinion, all of the beaches in Coronado were going to be the same, as long as the two of you didn't attempt to walk down the cliffs beach with her yet. "I think we should just go to the closest beach for a little bit and then head home again."

You sighed in annoyance. "Just for a little bit? Well then what was the point of packing all of this shit?"

Bradley desperately wanted to scold you for swearing in front of the baby, but he used every fiber of his being to press his lips together and clear his throat. "It's the Nugget's first time at any beach. We're just going to have to see how long she lasts before we need to bring her back."

"Fine," you replied, picking up the bag of sandwiches you packed and heading for the front door. "I just wish I knew why babies required so much stuff. Nothing about this is easy."

He followed in your wake. "I'm pretty sure all the babies of the world got together and plotted against their parents, because all of it is hard." At least that got a smile out of you as you plunked your sunglasses onto your nose, and he followed you out to the porch. "Let's just leave the stoller here. I like carrying her."

It was actually so beautiful outside, Bradley was thankful it was a Saturday. You took his hand in yours, waving at the neighbors along the way. "You look stupid sexy with that baby carrier on, Roo."

"Stupid sexy?" he muttered, adjusting the little sun hat on Rose's head. "Explain."

"I tried," you groaned. "But you don't listen, Bradley. You're a DILF. Even the way you're taking care of Rose is hot. Like you're already handsome, but now you're just oozing so much sex appeal, it's stupid. Like an ovary explosion." You made a sound like a bomb blowing up and gestured with your hands in front of you as you walked.

"Yeah... I don't see it," he murmured, reaching for your hand again. When he looked in the mirror now, he saw more gray hair and quite a few wrinkles, but that didn't stop him from trying to be the best dad he could. "I'm just focused on Rosie. You and Rosie. My girls."

You gave him side eye. "That's what makes it stupid," you muttered. "You know what, it doesn't matter." You kissed Rose's fingers as the entrance to the beach came into view. "Hey, little Nugget," you whispered as her eyes fluttered open. "Welcome to the beach."

The expanse of sand and the glittering water beyond were so bright, Bradley shielded her face, and she burrowed against him. "It's okay, Rosie," he murmured, kissing her hat as he hustled along the mostly empty beach. "Daddy's got you. I'll get you set up with some shade. I like the shade better, too."

It was a joint effort, the way you held the baby while Bradley ran around, setting up a canopy and laying out blankets and towels. "You're stupid sexy, too," he said as you distracted him for about the tenth time. "You know that, right?" You didn't verbally respond, but you did look pleased with yourself as you set Rose down on the beach blanket, fully in the shade. 

"Do you want to take her down to the water?" you asked, looking up at him.

He shot you an incredulous look as he took his shirt off. "Are you out of your mind? The waves are massive! Something could happen to her!"

Now you were doubled over in laughter on the blanket next to her. "It's not like I suggested that you take her surfing, Roo! Just carry her down to the water's edge!"

He was still hesitant. "Okay. But just for a quick look." Bradley scooped up his daughter, who always looked delighted to have him around, and he carried her slowly down the beach until the cool water met his toes. "This is as far as we go," he whispered, kissing her cheek as she closed her eyes. "Until you've had swimming lessons." He felt your hand on his back, and he turned to you and asked, "When can Rosie take swim lessons?"

"Bradley, she's less than a month old."

"That's probably when future olympians start," he mused as you rubbed sunblock all over his back and shoulders. You were standing in front of him now, laughing and swiping the lotion on his nose when an older woman stopped walking along the beach to approach you.

"You have a beautiful family," she said, smiling at Rose who was currently yawning.

"Thank you," Bradley replied, turning a bit so she could get a closer look. When she offered to take a photo of the three of you, he had you reach into the pocket of his cutoff jean shorts and unlock his phone for her.

Bradley looked ridiculous in the picture with windswept hair and streaks of sunblock on his face and shoulders, but you and Rose both made it his new favorite photo. He set it as his phone wallpaper.

---------------------------

"Am I doing this right?"

Cam was sitting on your living room couch, holding Rose with a look of sheer panic on his face. 

"No," Maria told him. "You're not. And you look constipated."

You started laughing and didn't even try to hide it. "Just hold her against your chest, and she'll probably fall asleep. She's definitely a snuggler."

He did as he was told, but there was still a firm crease along his forehead. "Babies are terrifying," he muttered, letting you adjust his hands for him.

Bradley was still at work, having agreed to teach another dog fighting drill with Maverick, and you were thankful your friends were keeping you company. It wouldn't be too much longer before you were back at work yourself, where you would be able to see your friends more frequently.

You watched Maria stand and kind of limp into your kitchen. "Does anyone else want a drink?"

"Absolutely not," Cam replied. "I need to keep two hands on the baby at all times."

He got an eye roll in response from you as you told Maria, "Sure, and I also need you to tell me why you're limping. Are you okay?"

A devilish smirk found her lips. "Maybe you should ask Bob about that one."

"Ew," Cam replied. "Unless I'm the one getting plowed by an aviator, I don't need to know any details." When you opened your mouth to say something, he quickly added, "You're just as bad as Maria, so don't even start with me. Just let me be afraid of holding your child in peace."

Then he settled back against the couch with Rose, and you joined Maria in the kitchen. "You're like seriously limping," you whispered, and she snickered.

"It's not what you think. I just can't resist giving Cam a hard time. Bob and I were in the shower together, and I pulled a muscle."

"Maria," you hissed. "You were in the shower with Bob, and you expect me to believe it wasn't sexual?"

"I wasn't," she insisted, getting two glasses of water ready and handing you one. "I just... ever since he got back from his deployment... I really like being around him as much as possible."

You knew how Bob looked at her. Like she was a mermaid. Or a fairy. Something magical and unbelievable. Maria wasn't known to be gushy or sappy, but she talked about him like he hung the moon, and that was all you needed to know.

"I'm happy for you."

She smiled just as you heard Cam gasp and start freaking out. "I think the baby pooped! Cancel that- I know the baby pooped! I need backup!"

By the time Bradley got home from work, you had dinner in the oven, and you were nursing Rose on the couch. Your husband looked exhausted but freshly showered with damp hair, and he made a beeline directly for you. He kissed your forehead and then her tiny fist. 

"You alright, Roo?"

"I had a long day," he whispered. You were a little worried that something happened that made him seem so tired, but he smiled as he said, "But your appointment with Dr. Morris later this week is going to make it all worth it. I can't wait to hear her tell me I'm allowed to fuck my wife."

"You're so horny!" you complained half heartedly as he kissed your cheek before heading into the kitchen to take dinner out of the oven as the timer went off.

"Six weeks is a long time when you've got your tits out all day and all night."

Truthfully, there were times when you were positively aching to be with him like that, but there were moments when you couldn't understand how he still wanted you. Your stretch marks were wild, and you looked so flabby and weird. You had no idea how you'd manage to lose the weight you gained when your whole world revolved around pumping and feeding Rose, and on top of that, you'd be back at work soon and busier than ever.

You heard Bradley's groan of delight from the kitchen as he took a bite of dinner. "This is delicious, but still not as delectable as you, Baby Girl."

Even when your brain told you not to believe him, your heart did.

----------------------------

Bradley insisted on accompanying you to your six week checkup with Dr. Morris. He sat in one of the chairs in the exam room with Rose all wrapped up like a burrito in his arms, careful not to get her perfect face too close to his hard insignia pins. He watched as you got a pelvic exam, and then the doctor pushed on your belly while you made a face of discomfort. He held Rose a little tighter when you tried to smile at him.

"Everything feels and looks good. You can head back to work next week," Dr. Morris said as she removed her latex gloves. "Do you have any questions for me?"

Bradley listened to you rattle off several questions which rolled into a fresh conversation with your doctor. He really didn't want to be the one to ask about intercourse, but now you were sort of smirking at him. Okay, you were treating this like a game, toying with him. He was absolutely down for that, and it wasn't like he hadn't completely embarrassed himself in front of your physician before.

"If neither of you have any other questions, you're free to go-"

"Actually, Dr. Morris, I do have one last question." He cleared his throat and stood with Rose while you started to get dressed, trying to hide your smile from him. "I'd really like to have sex with my wife as soon as possible. Is that six weeks postpartum rule hard-and-fast, or would tonight be suitable for that kind of thing?"

You were hiding your smile behind your hand, but he could tell you were laughing as Dr. Morris humored him. "Well, the guidelines say six weeks, so I would absolutely stick to that. We like to make sure proper healing has occurred. If you don't start taking oral contraceptives right away, I would definitely advise you to use condoms." She glanced at your chart and added, "Two more days probably won't kill anyone, and at that point, you'll be at six weeks."

"Speak for yourself," he grunted, slipping Rose back into her car seat carrier. "Thanks, doc."

"Two more days," you told him as the three of you walked out to the red Bronco. "You're doing great, Daddy."

Bradley groaned as he buckled both of you in, and he pulled out of the parking lot without another word.

You shouldn't have been surprised, but you definitely were when, two nights later, his phone alarm started blaring at one in the morning. You were just settling back in bed after feeding Rose when you looked at him with wide eyes. "Wait, did we forget to do something?" you asked. "What's the alarm for?"

Bradley simply held up his phone screen for you to see the alarm which was titled My wife is exactly 6 weeks postpartum.

You rolled onto your side, cackling with laughter. "It's not funny, Baby Girl. I've been waiting for this moment for a long time." He snuggled under the covers and said, "I'm ready to get my world rocked whenever you feel like rocking it, so you just let me know."

His eyes were closed when he felt your lips ghost along his cheek on their way to kiss him. "Why not right now?"

----------------------------------

Let this man fuck! Let him fuck his wife! He earned it. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 20

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[bleedingoptimism]

College dropout Steve Harrington with two years of business school under his belt, works, invests, saves, and manages his time and money until he has enough to open up his own little hair-dressing salon.

His parents didn’t approve of Steve’s “dream” at first but ended up warming up to the idea when the place didn’t crash and burn after a year. Now, two years in the running “Hair of Town” is doing numbers and Steve is ecstatic that he’s able to afford to hire an assistant.

Especially because Robin is the other half of his soul he didn’t know he was missing. She’s funny, brass, and sweet in her own way. She’s also incredibly intelligent, she’s working part-time with him and brawling her way through a major in linguistics in two different languages at the same time.

But, burnout it’s a thing and the reason why she called in sick last minute monday morning leaving Steve to manage the salon alone that tuesday.

He had just finished with a client and was thinking about how he hadn’t missed being alone in the shop at all when a girl with long wavy red hair comes in.

He smiles at her, looking at the door to see if someone else walks in after because the girl doesn’t look old enough to be walking around alone yet, “Good Da-”

“I want to cut my hair” she interrupts him. He suppresses a chuckle at the business-like attitude and smiles at her,

“Oka-”

“But I’m not cutting my hair unless my dad cuts his first” She interrupts him again and this time Steve does chuckle and looks up when the bell by the door rings as someone else walks into the shop.

A man, a gorgeous man with long curly hair walks in a little out of breath, “There you are!” he says and then looks up at Steve and his eyebrows shoot up and he visibly swallows and stumbles a little, “Oh! Hi…”

The little redhead points at the man and her eyebrows raise too, “See?” she says and Steve laughs again, “I see” he tells her and then smiles at the man.

Who takes that as his cue to come closer, “I see she’s already told you her conditions…” he says with a cheeky smile and then he leans in and whispers, “I don’t really want to cut my hair. I’ve been growing it for years” 

Steve gets momentarily distracted by big chocolate brown eyes but then he clears his throat and looks at the man’s hair, “May I?” he asks as he moves his hand closer to the strands framing the man’s face.

He blushes and nods before Steve touches it lightly, “Mmm, the ends are a little dry, we could fix that. Cut just a little,” and because the guy’s really pretty and he’s blushing a lot Steve can’t resist himself when he looks at him in the eye and smiles crookedly, “Just the tip?” 

Chocolate-eyes blushes even harder and blinks at him a few times before nodding slowly. 

“You’ll do it?” Redhead asks excitedly and for a second Steve forgot she was there. He turns and smiles at her and then moves and gestures them over to the couch, “Ok, who is going first?” 

“Him.” She answers immediately.

Chocolate-eyes sighs and Steve smirks at him, “Right this way, sr.” he says and takes them to the back to wash his hair.

He notices the little girl follows them and that the dad’s about to say something about it so he touches his shoulder lightly as he sits down, “It’s okay,” he assures him.

He can tell this girl is a handful but Steve already kind of adores her attitude. She’s obviously scared or nervous about getting a haircut and acting up tough seems to be her go-to and Steve finds that very relatable. 

“What are you doing?” She asks as Steve turns the water on and her dad gets comfortable in the chair. Steve beckons her closer as he explains, “I’m washing his hair,”

She crunches up her nose and giggles, “Is it dirty?” 

“Not at all, but it will let me see better what hairs I need to cut” he answers and as he starts touching the man’s hair, he closes his eyes and sighs contentedly in his chair.

Redhead nods like that makes perfect sense to her and then as Steve’s pouring shampoo in his hands she asks, “What’s that?”

“Shampoo” Steve tells her and offers his hand for her to smell the scent. She does and then nods again, she seems very satisfied with being involved in the process. 

As Steve massages the man’s head she stays beside him, watching attentively, and then perks up again when Steve grabs another bottle, “What’s that?” 

“Conditioner, to make his hair softer and easier to comb through” Steve answers and she taps her chin, “Of course,” she says and Steve chuckles making her frown, “What?” she prods.

“You are just very lovely” he says and boops her nose leaving a small dollop of foam behind. Redhead’s frown depends but when she notices the foam she giggles and swaps it off.

When he’s done washing the man’s hair, Redhead runs to the front of the shop and sits on the couch as Steve carefully wraps a towel around Chocolate-eyes head.

He can feel the man’s eyes boring into him so he looks at him and smiles and he blushes again, “You are really good with her,” he tells Steve.

Steve's smile grows wider and he looks down bashfully.

Once he’s sat, Redhead walks up closer to Steve and inspects what he’s doing, Steve grabs his scissors from his apron and moves them without touching yet through the length of the man’s hair.

Stopping at different heights he asks his little assistant where he should cut and gets an exasperated “Please don’t” from the man when he stops close to his neckline. Steve smiles and winks at him through the mirror and he blushes again.

Redhead seems very amused by the whole thing and when he finally gets to work, she just stands close to them watching quietly. And Steve keeps true to his word and only cuts the dried-up ends.

After he’s done he partially dries the hair and uses a hair lotion to work his curls and let it dry naturally. He gets the feeling this guy likes having his hair long but doesn’t take care of it at all and it makes his hands itch with the need to take care of it for him.

“What do you think?” he asks Redhead looking at their reflection in the mirror to include Chocolate-eyes in the answer.

The girl comes closer and her dad picks her up as she touches his hair, “Soft, pretty” she says and Chocolate-eyes smiles at her and kisses her cheek loudly.

“Your turn now!” he tells her and she visibly hesitates. 

Steve crouches until he’s at eye level with her, “I forgot to ask, are you the princess type? Maybe a knight? Perhaps the dragon?” he asks her, and she tilts her head and really thinks about it.

“A knight!” she declares and he smiles at her, 

“Ok! Sir Knight! This will be your throne” he tells her and points to the washing chair.

“Knights don’t have thrones” She frowns at him but goes to sit anyway.

“They do in my kingdom” he answers easily.

“So, are you the king of Hair of Town?” Chocolate-eyes asks with a smile and Steve smirks,

“Sure, but if I’m the king and she’s the knight, what are you?”

“The princess!” Redhead answers excitedly and tries to lift her head where Steve is washing it but he touches her forehead softly and she stills and looks up at him, “‘cause his hair is soft and pretty like a princess's hair now!”

He smiles and nods at her, “You are right,” and then he looks back at the man after placing Redhead with a towel wrapped around her hair on the cutting chair, “Would the princess like something to drink while he waits?” he asks flirtingly and gets the prettiest blush yet and a little fumbling in return before he takes pity on the man and makes his smile a little more friendly, “A coffee maybe?” 

But Princess seems to be of the mind that two can play this game, because he recovers easily and smiles at Steve, “Maybe some other time” he jokes.

Steve raises an eyebrow and smiles at him before turning his attention back to his Knight, “So, how would you like me to cut it?” he asks her, combing his fingers through her long hair softly.

“I can choose?” she asks excitedly and Steve looks briefly back at Princess who nods before smiling at her, “Of course”

She looks back at her dad and then at Steve and seems to think about it for a second before she says, “I want it short, like yours” 

Steve looks at her surprised, “Are you sure?” 

She nods decidedly, “Yes, I want it to look just like yours” 

Steve glances back at her father one last time just to make sure and he’s already smiling brightly back at him when he does. He nods once more and Steve gets his scissors out feeling silly for feeling so touched and flattered by the girl's request.

But just when he’s about to start his phone rings, and since it’s working hours and it’s probably someone wanting to make an appointment, he excuses himself for a second,

“Take care of the kingdom while I'm gone, ok?” he tells his Knight and she nods and sits up straighter on the chair.

He moves to the small side room where he keeps the coffee machine to answer but it ends up being a telemarketer so he quickly tells them he’s working right now and hangs up. And just as he’s about to open the door he hears Redhead talking with her dad,

“...But the princess can marry the king, right?” she’s saying, and Princess groans,

“Max, please don’t give your daddy ideas,” he tells her and Steve needs to take a moment before going back out there because his mind immediately conjures up stupid and beautiful images of a wedding, a white suit, and a black one, a cute flower girl with red hair, a happy family of three but also, way in the back of his mind, the man’s voice referring to himself as ‘daddy’ might have awakened something in him.

Huffing and plastering on a smile he walks out and sees the man blush again but he focuses on his red Knight, “Excellent job, I knew my kingdom was in good hands, you ready to start?”

Max nods going back to her stiff posture and Steve goes to work on her head, making sure she relaxes into a more comfortable position as he goes.

Soon, the hair is done, so he blow-dries it before styling it just like his own since that's what she had asked.

“What do you think?” he asks her just like before and she looks at him through the mirror and shakes her head, giggling when it moves easily with the shorter length, “I love it!” she says and then she gets off the chair and vows at him, “Thank you, King,” she says.

And Steve theatrically vows back at her, grabbing the edges of his apron as if it were a dress. “You are very welcome my brave Knight”

She giggles again and runs to her father, hugging his legs as he stands up.

Steve smiles and moves to the front desk to charge for the service but after Princess pays, he lingers and an awkward silence comes over them.

Steve chuckles and subtly pushes the small box with his business cards on it and the man smiles and takes one, “Well… I-”

“That's my personal number,” Steve says suddenly, nodding at the card, “If you… maybe, If- Just in case” he finishes lamely.

The fear of not seeing him, or Max again suddenly makes him stumble.

But Princess smiles at him, “Max, say goodbye to Your Majesty” he says vowing his head and keeping his eyes locked on Steve the whole time.

Max waves goodbye still shaking her head and messing up with her hair excitedly and then they are gone.

Steve smiles and sighs hoping that isn't the last time he sees them.

It’s 20 minutes later as he’s working on another customer that he feels his phone vibrate with a message and then another, and another, and a few more after that.

He checks his phone once the customer is gone and there’s a bunch of texts from an unknown number.

‘hey its eddie’

‘wondering when youd like to drink that coffee???’

‘i just realized i never told u my name’

‘i was there earlier’

‘for a haircut?????’

‘jesus christ im butchering this’

‘...............i was the princess’

‘really hoping you find this endearing and not pathetic’

He chuckles delighted at his phone as he takes a screenshot and sends it to Robin but not before answering back:

‘I’d love to have coffee with you, princess.’

☕🥐💕

[hockeybabe]

Shoot Your Shot | M. Knies

Not my gif

Pairings: Matthew Knies x f!reader

Summary: Matthew has had a crush on you and just can’t refuse you.

Warnings: slight smut, Matthew can’t resist his crush, fingering, swearing, dirty talk, praising, finger sucking?

Word count: 1.5k

Note: ngl after I saw this gif, I knew I had to write smth for it. Also I went to a leaf game!!!! I GOT TO SEE CAPTAIN QUINN!

“Just come to the game.” You heard for the third time this day. You worked at a local coffee shop that wasn’t far from Scotiabank Arena, where the Leafs played. Your most regular customer, Matthew Knies, was always asking you to come to his game. You were a hockey fan but never went to games, thanks to your boss.

“That’s really nice, Matt, but I’m working.” You said, cupping the lid of a drink. Matthew groaned, leaning his arms against the counter, and walked away to find a booth. You called the name on the receipt, handing the person their drink. “Sally, I’m on break.” You told your co-worker as you put your apron up on the hook.

“You can’t be mad at me.” You said, walking up to the booth and taking a seat right across from him, folding your hands over the other. “I’m not.” He grumbled, not looking at you. You rolled your eyes. “Look at me.” You ordered him, and he did so reluctantly. “I’ll be watching from there.” You pointed at the TV that was displayed in the corner of the shop.

“It’s not the same, Y/N. I’ve wanted you to go forever. Just ask your boss.” He begs. You knew Matthew’s name had popularity, and your boss would never believe you if he weren’t there in person. "Look, I try all the time. It’s not worth it.” You said getting frustrated and walked away to start your shift again.

Matthew always had a soft spot for you and couldn’t stand to see you upset, especially at him. What he didn’t tell you was that he already talked to your boss and got you a ticket to the game right at the glass. But now he was scared you wouldn’t show when he went for pre-skate, and it would crush him.

Matthew looked down at the watch on his wrist, noticing he had to make his way to the rink. “I’ll see you y/n.” He said leaving money along with the ticket to the game. You watched him leave as a soft sigh left your lips. Liking Matthew wasn’t something you wanted, but you couldn’t help it. You knew he liked you, but being with a hockey player isn’t the easiest thing to do.

You had seen some hockey players girlfriends get attacked on Instagram for being in love, but you couldn’t deny the honest attraction you had for Matthew. He was everything you ever wanted in a guy. You walked over to the booth he was at and picked up his cup, noticing the money along with a strip of paper with the leafs logo on it.

You put the cash and paper in your apron pocket before putting the mug in the dish area. You walked over to Sally and leaned against the counter, noticing Matthew had left you a ticket to tonight’s game against Vancouver. “What’s that, y/n/n?” Sally asked. You lifted the ticket up and showed her. “Someone’s got a crush.” You heard it from behind.

You turned around and saw your boss with her arms crossed. You sucked in a breath and said, "It doesn’t matter. I’ve got work.” You said it in a low voice, not wanting to piss your boss off. “Y/n, go to the game. I already talked to the boy and the rest of his team. I’ll tell you they’re persistent.” Your mouth fell slightly at her words. “They were here?” You asked. “Oh yeah, all of them. All because that one rookie likes you.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “You are going, right?” Your boss asked, walking closer. “I’m mean, yeah, but who’s going to run-" “It’ll be closed for the night.” Your boss cut you off. Another thing your boss shocked you with was that she never closed the cafe unless something was wrong in her life. Whatever the team said to her, it must’ve changed her.

“Well, um, I got to go then.” You said untying your apron and grabbing your personal belongings. “Oh, you almost forgot this.” Your boss said handing you a jersey with the name Knies stitched on the back along with his number. “Now go.” Sally said pushing you to the door. You laughed at them, quickly placed the jersey over your clothes, and headed to the rink.

“Miss y/l/n?” Someone said to you. “Yeah,” you answered. “Please come with me. Mr. Knies asked for me to take you to your spot.” Your brows furrowed in confusion as you followed him. You were walked all the way to a room with a TV with the game on, a bar, couches, and women.

“Y/n, right?” You were greeted by a blonde. You nodded slowly. “Steph, Mitch’s wife.” Your eyes widened in realization. You were in a room with the players girlfriends and wives. “It’s nice to meet you.” You shook her hand as she led you to the balcony to watch the game.

The game was already in motion, and Vancouver had a good offensive game. The Leafs were in the Vancouver zone, and there it was. A Knies goal, you couldn’t help but smile as Matthew pointed up to where you were. “He’s gotta good eye.” Steph says as the others cheer. "Yeah, he does.” Another says. “Aryne.” The woman says. “Matthew lives with me and John.” She says.

You smiled at the woman and continued to watch the game and talk to the other girls. The Leafs ended up winning 5-2. “You’re coming.” Steph said, licking her arm through yours as you made your way to the den and waited for the players.

You felt slightly overwhelmed by the number of people who knew who you were and even by the players coming out and introducing themselves. After John, you watched Matthew stroll out. You felt yourself smiling as your arms crossed over your chest. “Player of the game?” You cocked a brow at his Leafs belt. “Gotta keep it up.” He responded pulling you into a hug.

“We’ll talk about this.” You said this as he pulled you to the parking garage, where his car was. You sat in the passenger seat watching Matthew drive to your apartment, and it was something. You knew he was sneaking glances at you with the number of times he clenched his hands on the wheel, turning his knuckles white as you clenched your thighs together.

You get to your apartment, and you watch Matthew contain himself, shuffling his hands in his pockets and letting out deep sighs. Opening the door, you pull Matthew’s arm toward your bedroom. At the edge of the bed, Matthew turned you around and crashed his lips against yours. Matthew pushed you onto the bed, looming over you.

“Hi beautiful.” He said trailing his finger along your collarbone. You felt a blush rise on your cheeks. “I like your jersey.” He said it with a casual smirk. “I think I like it too.” You responded biting your lip slightly. The tension floated around you two for a while before you grabbed the collar of his shirt and teased him, thinking you would kiss him, but instead you kissed the corner of his mouth.

Matthew bunched up your jersey before kissing you. His hands trailed to your tits as he pinched your nipples and massaged your boobs. You moaned into his mouth, giving his tongue access. You both fought for dominance, with him eventually winning. Matthew trailed kisses to your neck, finding the sweet spot, while he slowly peeled your top layers off and unclasped your bra.

Feeling antsy, you moved your hands down Matthew’s body, putting your semi-cold hands under his shirt and feeling his body. “Fuck.” He hissed into your ear, feeling the coolness of your hands. You whimpered as Matthew grinded into your core. “Off.” You moaned as he kissed down the valley of your breasts to your pant line.

Matthew sat up on his knees, peeling off his shirt, while you admired from below, biting your lip. You started to peel off the rest of your clothes with the help of Matthew until you were both completely bare. Matthew trailed kisses along your things as his finger traced your folds. Your back arched at his touch, and he used his other hand to force your hips down.

“Such a pretty girl.” He mumbled, thrusting one finger in as you moaned. Matthew continued to thrust his finger while using his thumb to play with your clit. “More.” You begged in a muffled voice. Matthew instantly responded, adding a second finger and increasing his pace. You thrashed in your position, using your hands to grip the sheets. “That’s it princess. Let go. Come for me.” You let out a whimper as you fell apart on his fingers.

Matthew trailed his fingers up your body to your lips as you sucked the juices off his fingers. “Jesus baby. You’re so hot.” He smiled while lifting you up, allowing you to straddle him. “You’re hotter.” You said smiling back before kissing him.

[steviewashere]

Don't Dish What You Can't Serve

Rating: Teen and Up CW: Sexual Harassment (Not Between Main Pairing), Chewing Tobacco, Gross Shit Happens That I Can't Say Because It Spoils The PlotTags: Different First Meeting AU, No Upside Down AU, No Supernatural AU, Steve Never Became Friends With Tommy and Carol, Hurt/Comfort, Tommy Hagan Being an Asshole, Tommy Hagan is a Piece of Shit Here, Waiter Steve Harrington, Line Cook Eddie Munson, They Work at Benny's, So This is an AU Where Benny's Never Closed, Protective Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson Takes Care of Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson Gets Revenge, Steve is a College Student (But That's Not Entirely Important Here), '86 Was Eddie's Year

🥤——————🥤 Steve picks up a new job in the summer of 1986, waiting tables. The job at Family Video fell through and it just didn’t pay enough. He was starting his first year at the local college soon and he desperately needed the money. Especially since his parents cut him off, sighting his one gap year as enough reason. And so he goes to Benny’s, fills out an application and turns it in the same day. Back at his apartment, also the same day, he gets hired on. Alongside another guy around his age, one he recognizes from high school as Eddie Munson—who must’ve finally finished his time as a senior and now just needed to work.

Neither of them really talk to each other outside of putting orders in and taking orders out. Maybe occasionally scolding the other because—“You didn’t ask how rare he wanted his steak, Harrington? How the hell am I supposed to make it then?” and “Munson, you forgot the fucking ketchup on this asshole’s cheeseburger and now he won’t shut the fuck up about it. Fix this, please for the love of god.”

So, sure, they don’t get along all that well all the time. They’re not friends. More so just acquaintances. And so they don't really talk.

However, that changes one evening.

It’s a couple weeks before the upcoming school year is supposed to start. Hawkins, Indiana is one of those little college towns. Meaning, the new students were finally moving, coming around, getting to know where they now lived. And that includes one particular customer, Tommy Hagan, and his girlfriend, Carol Perkins. They’ve been coming in since mid-July, despite the new year starting in September, despite move-in dates set in late August. Every Sunday, Steve sees their pinched, smarmy, cocky faces. And every Sunday, they always cause some sort of issue.

The first time, Tommy spilled his soda all over the tiled restaurant floor. Claimed it was an accident, but Steve saw him. He saw the guy push his cup over the edge. Heard him snicker as Steve bent down to wipe it up, as he stood back up and plastered on a tight smile, promising that he’d get him a new soda right away. Flushed with shame as Tommy laughed and laughed and laughed his ass off about the, “Guy with the big stupid eyes and no thoughts in his head” and how he, “Probably doesn’t have much going for him if he’s working in a place like this.”

A riddle and game, that’s what it was. Steve would welcome them, take their orders, put them in for Eddie to make, drop the food off, and be at their service if something went wrong. Which was always. And he’d endure the stupid comments Tommy would make when he wasn’t in earshot. Spanning from how incompetent their waiter was—“He’s always screwing something up, swear to god. Don’t even know how he’s holding a job here, jeez.”—to how big of a manwhore he is because of how tight his work pants were. As if Steve would ever be catching tail in his stupid slacks, always stained with food and sticky soda by the end of the night, and the same pants that give him wedgies if he doesn’t make them sit right on his waist. All in all, Tommy is their worst customer. But it’s just a job, Steve always thought, it’ll get better at some point. Tommy will eventually start classes and leave me alone.

Then, of course, comes the Sunday a couple weeks before the new school year. Tommy is alone this time. No Carol on his arm. He just slides into one of the booths and watches Steve work until he approaches. And immediately, something is terribly off about this encounter.

“Welcome to Benny’s, can I get any drinks started for you?” Steve asks. His script. Customer service voice pitchy and monotone as it drips from his mouth.

Tommy doesn’t answer for several moments. Leaving Steve to stand and loom and stare. To smile and squirm. As he rakes his eyes so unnoticeably over all of Steve’s frame. His tongue trails along the inside of his lower lip, eyes heated, a gross smirk on his face. Smarmy.

“Bet you’d look good without that dumb frilly apron around your waist,” Tommy teases. It’s half-flirtatious, Steve thinks. But all the same creepy and…predatory.

“Excuse me?” He can only respond.

The asshole hums, assessing. Repeats himself. And adds, “You’d make better tips, too. Maybe put some gloss on your lips, a tighter shirt, no apron…yeah…vision’s coming together, baby. Could make everybody your bitch when you serve them.” He stares for a second longer. Rests his face in his left hand and flutters his eyes at Steve. “Can I get my usual, pretty boy? And one of those strawberry milkshakes.”

Steve writes the order down on his little notepad, shifting foot to foot. His stomach twists and knots. Brain still whirling at what Tommy said, unable to retort. Doesn’t even know how to really feel. Not flattered, that’s for sure. Slimy…that seems like a good enough substitute for the emotions mildewing in his chest.

“Y’know,” Tommy continues, voice sticky the way humidity is—uncomfortable—“I see how hard you work around here sometimes, even if you are pretty bad at it. Swear I can see the cogs just clogging up in your head. If you wanna give that pea brain of yours a moment to relax, you could share that drink with me. Maybe I’ll tip you real good this time, baby.”

He shifts again. Hands clammy and bile in the back of his throat. Steve swallows hard, thinks he stutters something out akin to, “I’ll be back with your order,” and promptly disappears into the kitchen.

The door swings closed behind him. And he’s not really looking, not paying attention. Just trying to get away from the residue left in Tommy’s air of existence. In the seconds between entering the kitchen and trying to storm away, he runs into somebody. An exerted grunt, raspy and deep, sounds out in front of him.

“Hey! Watch”—the person gently grabs him by the shoulders and leads them somewhere that he can’t really register. In a softer voice, no longer agitated, “Steve? Hey, man, y’alright?”

Steve sniffles. It’s then that he recognizes the heat in his cheeks, overwhelmingly hot and itchy. The scalding of tears. A pinch behind his eyes. There’s a soft cushion underneath him, the telltale creak of one of the older dining chairs. The air smells like garlic and grease, but a breeze catches over his exposed forearms—most likely from an air conditioning unit. He’s in the break room, he can finally notice. And break he does.

“That asshole is back,” he garbles, “and he”—hiccup—“he’s being really gross to me.”

The person crouches down in front of him, putting them eye-to-eye. And he knows immediately that it’s Eddie. Long hair pulled up into as neat of a bun as he can manage. A group of pitch black bats on pale skin. Dark brown eyes, shifting back and forth between his own with a mixture of concern and anger.

“What’d he say to you, Steve?”

He sniffs again, trying to gain some composure before he inevitably has a full-blown breakdown. Inevitable because he always has one when he goes home to his apartment, but it might happen here, and he can’t afford to let it happen here. Not today, at least, not now.

“Calling me…calling me baby and pretty boy. And he—he’s trying to make me share his stupid milkshake and he calls me stupid—that I have a…a fucking pea brain. Eddie, he calls me stupid every single time he comes in and I just—he’s just—I can’t”—

Eddie runs his warm hands up and down his biceps, gently pushing the fabric of his quarter sleeve, too. He shushes low and whispered. Murmurs, “I don’t want you to go back out there without me, alright?” His eyes dart back and forth between Steve’s wet ones once more. One of his hands leaves and digs into his back pocket, producing a black bandana. And he carefully brings it up close, patting it over Steve’s blotchy cheeks. “You don’t deserve that, Steve,” he whispers, “and I’ll make sure he gets what he deserves. Just wait back here for a bit and I’ll get his order done.”

Steve nods slow and heavy. Wipes the heel of his palm roughly over his eyes—to which Eddie tuts at and firmly drags it away, replacing it with the worn, soft fabric of that bandana. “Sorry that I ran into you at the door,” he says quietly.

“I’m glad you did. Because I’m going to make sure that asshole never bothers you again. ‘M sick of hearing what he does to you every single time he comes in.” Eddie stands up, but leaves the bandana to dangle in Steve’s loose grip. A tentative stroke through Steve’s hair, something he usually wouldn’t allow, but it’s too nice to turn down. “We’ll put him up on the wall, too. That bastard can suck a fucking egg.”

He laughs at that, or at least something like a laugh. It’s brittle, airy, but genuine. And watches Eddie go.

Roughly fifteen minutes later, though, Eddie wanders back into the break room and drags them back towards the milkshake blender in the kitchen. He has the ingredients all laid out next to the machine: vanilla ice cream, a gallon of milk, some freshly chopped strawberries, the can of whipped cream, and the glass itself. Adds the milk and the ice cream, but then stops abruptly, turning to dig something out of his pocket.

“What’re you doing?” Steve quietly asks, worried to be overheard through the ticket window.

“Oh, just some good ol’ payback,” Eddie answers, something darker than mirth in his tone. What he produces from his pocket is a can of chewing tobacco. The nasty menthol kind, too. He shakes the little tin in his hand, the tobacco thunking against the lid of the container. And then he twists the cap off, plucks a quarter sized amount, and stuffs the wad between his bottom teeth and lower lip. Mouth literally bulging with the tobacco. “We’ll blend this shit first,” he whispers, scheming, “add the strawberries. Then, comes the grand finale.”

Steve side eyes Eddie. His deft fingers flittering over the buttons of the blender, scooping out the strawberries with the same hand he picked up tobacco with. He grimaces, but doesn’t comment on that. “Grand finale?”

“One of the biggest fears that customers have when they go into any restaurant is that the waiter is going to spit in their food,” he nonchalantly explains, capping the blender, “though, a lot of them don’t consider the line cook. Or at least, the rude ones don’t.” Eddie shifts something in his mouth, what sounds like the slosh of thick saliva. “He’ll probably complain, but it’s not like he’ll be believed. It’s a safety hazard, sure. But nobody suspects the cook because they’re supposed to know that shit. A cook spitting in a patron’s food? No way, man. That shit’s taboo.”

“And if he is believed?”

Eddie merely shrugs. “Then I get fired. But it’s whatever. I’m already on my way out anyway, got enough money for what I need.” 

Before Steve can ask or get in response, Eddie’s blasting the blender. It chugs and churns the half cup of milk and the measly two scoops of ice cream. The strawberries burst and bleed juice throughout, mixture turning pink. And with a few shakes, a half-way pit stop to unclog the bigger chunks, and a go-about with the partially dysfunctional blades—Eddie chucks the lid off, unlocks the pitcher from the machine, and turns away from Steve.

“I’m gonna have the good graces to not make you watch this shit,” Eddie gives as an explanation, “y’may wanna cover your ears.” Steve doesn’t, though wishes he did. With a cough and a semi-gag, Eddie inhales and burbles the saliva in the back of his mouth. He can hear the way the tobacco spit dribbles from between Eddie’s lips, the way it plops into the blended mixture, and the last little dredges left in his mouth. Steve’s stomach turns, but he doesn’t stop it. Doesn’t step in.

Eddie turns back around with the blender. Sitting on top of the pink mix is one quarter sized glob of tobacco and saliva, the spit already spilling down the sides of the pitcher. “Ta-da!” Eddie exclaims, shaking the pitcher back and forth. “And that is what I like to call the revenge special. Half cup milk, two scoops of vanilla ice cream, four chopped strawberries, and a fantastical exported ingredient from the land of your’s truly. It may be a seasonal item, but it’s got the gust of something that’ll last a lifetime.”

“God…that is disgusting,” Steve mock-whispers. “You’re a fucking genius.”

“Thank you, it’s one of my many tricks.” He sets the blender down onto the metal counter, a hard thunk that rattles the milkshake glass. “Now, do me a favor and pour that into the glass, get him one of those stupid striped straws, spray it up with some whip. And I’ll dish up his monstrosity of a cheeseburger.” Eddie’s eyes soften away from the mirth they previously had. His voice dropping low, too. “I’ll deliver it, too, by the way. I would never throw you under the bus for something gross like this. This should hopefully get him to stay away, though. If he does complain about you and you have to flee, I’ll help you find a new job.”

“I could just say I did it, y’know,” Steve tentatively says, “that I fucked up his drink. You don’t need to lose your job because of issues I’m having.”

“You were crying, Steve,” Eddie points out gently. “Nobody makes my waiters cry. And nobody gets away with it, either.” He slinks away from Steve without another word and without another word getting in. And Steve watches him for a long moment. As he busies himself around his workspace, tidied and organized the way he needs it. The flex of his muscles as he flips and cuts and assembles that cheeseburger. His baby hairs at the crown of his head getting stuck to his sweaty temples, hard work painting and furrowing his brows.

But when he’s caught staring, Eddie simply and softly smiles, gestures at the blender, and turns back to his plate. So, Steve does what he’s told. Assembles the nail to his coffin, one pour and spray and straw at a time. And walks out of the kitchen, behind Eddie’s flexing back, his grease stained and sweat drenched white t-shirt. He sits at the front counter, in one of the old, flaking barstools. Watches.

Tommy looks up at Eddie from his spot in the booth, eyes wide as he sees Eddie take a seat across from him. He grimaces and sours. “You aren’t that waiter. Who the fuck are”—

“Heard you like milkshakes,” Eddie drawls. “Thought maybe I could get your opinion on a new recipe I’m trying. It’s strawberry, don’t worry your preppy little chinos off. But there’s been a slight change, was wondering what you’d think about it.”

Across the table, Tommy gives Eddie an odd glance. “Is it that important that you watch me? Surely I could’ve just sent my compliments to you or whatever when I’m done.”

“Nah, I like getting it straight from the source. So, go ahead, take a sip. Tell me what you think.”

Steve has to physically draw himself back, has to swallow down the gag and bile working their way through him, and genuinely convulses back against the counter as Tommy takes his first, long, hard sip of the milkshake. His face doesn’t move much with the sip, but he does scowl a tad, grimacing with a slight twitch in his upper lip.

“Tastes sour,” Tommy comments.

Eddie hums. “But is it good? Sometimes sour’s a good thing.” He reaches across the table, then, and plucks up Tommy’s cheeseburger. Crosses one arm across his chest, hand resting on his opposite bicep, and brings the food up to his mouth, taking a hearty bite.

“Hey!” Tommy exclaims, “that’s my cheeseburger, man! You can’t just”—

“Get a second sip and maybe I’ll consider remaking your food.” Eddie smugly watches Tommy take another deep swallow. His eyes cast at the glass, roaming at the little brown flecks in the shake. Knowing and proud. “It’s good, isn’t it?”

“I mean it’s…objectively, I guess it’s good. Can I get a new burger, man? I’m starving here and I’ve got a date with my girlfriend in thirty minutes.”

All at once, Steve’s heart enters his stomach. Eddie takes another large bite of the burger before replacing it on Tommy’s plate. He crosses his arms against the top of the table, fingers tucked securely in the creases of his elbows. Leans all the way across until he’s nearly nose to nose with Tommy.

“So, could you taste what was different? Could your pea brain discern the new flavor on your tongue?” He asks, smarmy as Tommy has ever been. Over-confident, yet satisfied.

Tommy’s eyes widen at his words being thrown back in his face, startles against the back of his booth. Fingers gripping to the edge of the table, cheeks going pale. “I…I don’t”—

“Spit.”

“Wh—What?”

“Spit,” Eddie repeats coldly. “You just drank my fucking tobacco spit.” Silence. And then, “How’d I taste, baby? Be honest. Was it everything you’d ever hope it would be with a man?”

More silence. Tense and thick, enough that it weighs on Steve’s shoulders across the way. However, Tommy finally registers what just happened. He gags hard, hand covering his curdled mouth. Behind it, muffled, he says, “You’re sick in the head. I’ll—I’ll fucking tell your boss. You’ll fucking regret this.” And he stands up on shaky legs, dashing away before he can vomit all over himself.

Eddie only watches him leave, satisfied and content. He looks back to Steve, grins. “I can’t wait to see his girlfriend’s face when she finds out he isn’t allowed back.”

Steve nervously giggles and crosses to the booth, sliding in where Tommy just was. “You’re insane,” he murmurs.

“Yeah, but it worked, didn’t it? Too bad he didn’t leave a tip. There is a cheeseburger if you want the rest of it. Promise I didn’t fuck with that.” Eddie’s eyes are on him, soft and thoughtful, watching him pick up the partially eaten burger. “I can make you a new one instead, if you’d prefer. Extra cheese, too.”

“Trying to get in all the cooking you can before this inevitably backfires?”

“Sure…or I’m trying to make sure you’re taken care of. One in the same, I suppose. So, provolone, right? Could even combine some of the cheese if you want. Pepper jack and havarti…colby jack and swiss. Take your pick.”

Steve glances up from the plate in front of him. Heart beating fast and chest gooey as Eddie looks onto him with something like reverence. “Provolone, please,” he requests quietly, “and can I get extra crunchy crinkle fries, too?”

Reaching out a hand, Eddie gently pats the back of Steve’s left. “You got it, baby”—he hisses—“I probably shouldn’t call you that. I’m so”—

“It’s alright,” Steve murmurs, “I…uh…I don’t mind if it’s you.”

Eddie sucks in a sharp breath, then stands from the other side of the bench. “You’re gonna give me a hero complex and an ego, Stevie.” He begins to retreat towards the kitchen, calling out about bringing the dishes back when he’s done, that the milkshake could just be tossed glass and all.

But Steve stops him with, “Hey, Eddie?” Is met again with those soft, dark brown eyes. “Thank you,” he quietly says, “I never thought I’d get him away from me. Means a lot that you helped.”

There’s a soft smile on Eddie’s face, one that Steve can’t help but return.

“Anything for you, man.”

He makes Eddie stop again, though. To gaze, to drink in that tight white t-shirt and the spatter of black ink on his arms, his heavy pretty curls, and that soft face of his. “When we finish closing up for the night, do you wanna come over to mine? I’ve got a rented copy of Empire Strikes Back and a few beers. Only if you”—

“I’d love to, Steve. Now let me make you your food, sweetheart. Before you gobble me up with that hungry stare of yours.”

🥤——————🥤

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

I’m so sorry for this guys but

AITA for telling someone their horse was masturbating?

Basically does what it says on the tin. For those of you who don’t know horses can masturbate. It’s most common in male horses under the age of three who have not had their testicles removed and who are confined to a stall or small pen and get really bored. They typically grow out of the behaviour once they’re older or given more freedom. Some owners try to train them to stop it from happening but most just ignore it because it’s better than other boredom behaviours like cribbing and wind-sucking (both are SFW to Google btw).

Anyway, I’m a groom and stable hand, mid-twenties now but been working at my job since I was fifteen (part-time then, now full-time). The stable I work at boards horses and gives lessons but also offers training for young horses, so we get a lot of OTTB here – that is “off-the-track Thoroughbreds”, so ex-racing horses that people typically buy cheap and then retrain to be show jumpers or dressage horses or whatever. One such horse is Bert, who is the horse in question in this situation.

Bert has excellent bloodlines but he sucked as a racing horse so he was sold OTT. The man who bought him, I’ll just call him John, knows nothing about horses – he’s a total beginner in every way, has never ridden and pays other people (including me) to take care of Bert, but claims to be an expert in everything equine because Bert cost him so much money (I don’t know the actual amount but he’s in the section of the stable where the $20,000 Warmbloods are boarded so I’m assuming around that amount which is a lot yes but also not the most expensive horse we’ve had here).

Anyway the actual story – I’m at work cleaning out stalls when John walks past, he completely ignores me as he always does so I do the same and get back to work. A few minutes later he goes sprinting back in the opposite direction which I thought was weird but whatever, I kept mucking, until I heard him shouting for help. I went out into the aisle and he’s there shouting at another groom and demanding to know the emergency vets number (it was a weekday morning btw, so he didn’t need the emergency vet, he just needed the regular vet but that’s meaningless anyway). I went over to see what was happening and he tells me his horse (Bert) is ‘acting weird’ and needs a vet immediately, so I offer to go see Bert for myself and then call the vet if necessary.

So basically yeah Bert was masturbating. Had an erection, was rocking about rubbing it on his tummy, and did NOT want anyone going in his stall or touching him. John points at Bert and says something like “see, he’s sick!” and then tells me Bert tried to attack him when he entered the stall and I just, I dunno, I cough and say that Bert is fine and just wants some privacy right now, figuring that the obvious erection might be a giveaway as to what’s happening? But John turned to me and blurts out word for word “are you an actual retard” and then starts cursing at me and telling me I know nothing and Bert needs a vet etc and so on. I kind of blanked on everything else he said after he called me a retard to be honest because WTF? I don’t really know what went on in my brain in the next few seconds but I ended up shouting – yes, shouting, extremely loudly, it fucking echoed in the stable – “he doesn’t need a vet because HE’S JUST MASTURBATING” in John’s face and then walking back to the stall I’d been mucking.

As I got back to the stall I heard laughter from a couple of aisles over. Apparently my co-workers and some riders who were there had all heard me shout and found it hilarious, and that made me laugh too because it was so freaking ridiculous. I honestly kind of forgot the entire encounter afterwards because we had a horse who actually needed a vet a little while later and yeah, John and Bert just slipped my mind.

I didn’t remember until that afternoon when my boss came to see me and said he’d had a complaint from John who wanted me fired. I did not get fired but I did get ‘warned’ (just a formality, my boss didn’t actually punish me but wanted me to act like I had been if John questioned me later, which he never did). John complained that I’d treated him like an idiot, spoken down to him, and “acted above my position” (those were the exact words he used) causing people to laugh at him. I explained the entire situation to my boss, who also laughed, and that was that, nothing else ever came of it aside from my co-workers telling the story of me shouting HE’S MASTURBATING so loudly it scared a pony into jumping so suddenly that it farted to everyone they possibly could.

Since then John has ignored me even more than before which I honestly consider a blessing, and I would leave this situation thinking I’m NTA except that one of my co-workers brought their boyfriend to the stable recently and when they introduced us the boyfriend said something like ‘oh right, you’re the asshole who talks down to people who don’t know everything about horses’ and yeah. My co-worker was blindsided by that as well and we basically both said you don’t have to know everything about horses to know what an erection means, but since then I’ve been wondering if I am TA in this situation? Like, clearly there were better ways to tell John what his horse was doing, but he called me a retard and also I get paid to take care of horses not to teach the birds and the bees to fifty year olds so I don’t know. I’ll let Tumblr decide.

So, AITA for telling John his horse was masturbating?

Additional info: I'm on a rota with other stable hands so I sometimes groom Bert, muck his stall, attend to his vet/farrier appointments, give him worming paste, etc and so on. I am not his trainer and have no input into when he gets to leave his stall. I've mentioned to my boss a couple of times that he boredom stims and should be in a paddock with other young horses, but John refuses to agree to that for reasons I don't know. My boss has since spoken to Bert's trainer who is now trying to convince John to let Bert have more time outdoors.

What are these acronyms?

[dxxdhood]

wait for me

pairing: waiter!dick grayson x gn!reader

summary: after getting stood up on a date, you notice the waiter who's been patiently watching you all evening.

tags: smut (18+), sub!dick grayson, dom!reader, teasing, dirty talk, humiliation, name-calling, slapping, handjob

wc: 1.9k

a/n: hey, hope you guys like this one! if anyone has any requests/thoughts, please send them in. i want to write more, but i really struggle with ideas haha

It’s not that bad, all things considered. You must have the intuition of a god for choosing a restaurant that allows free refills, because if you’ve had to pay for drinks this whole night, you’d have gone completely broke. Still, you can’t help feeling pretty shitty. There’s no way your date is running two hours late.

The place is a casual diner, serving a host of soups, sandwiches, and pastries that had you salivating earlier on in the night, but right now, you’re not exactly in the mood to browse the menu again. The diner doesn’t close until twelve, but it’s been almost deserted for the past hour, probably because it’s a weeknight and the average person has plenty better to do than wait on a person who’s made it obvious they’re not coming

Just as you’re about to get up and leave – for real this time – the waiter comes around to refill your drink. It’s a quarter till twelve, and at this point you know he probably wants to start cleaning up, but still he tops up your drink without saying anything. It’s a kindness, but a part of you just wishes he would kick you out already.

He’s been the only waiter on staff since you got here – even the manager knew this place would be empty – and you’re so glad he was, because if you ever want to show your face here again, all you have to do is avoid one person. It’s a shame that you feel too embarrassed to interact with him, though. He’s been nothing but polite, only asking if you were ready to order at the very beginning before quickly picking up on the fact that you were waiting on your date– the one that wasn’t coming.

You take a sip from your full drink, but you can’t stomach any more. Standing up, you try to avoid eye contact with the waiter, who’s relaxing behind the counter, as you step towards the exit. There’s a nagging feeling in the back of your head, like you’ve skipped a step or forgotten an important task. It dawns on you as you’re facing the exit: you forgot to tip him!

Well, you didn’t order a meal and you paid for your drink up front, so you’re not exactly sure if you were meant to tip him. Hell, you didn’t know if this restaurant accepted tips at all. But this waiter just watched you sit through quiet torture and the second-hand embarrassment was probably like stepping on glass.

“Hey,” you turn around. “Do I… Should I tip you?”

“Yeah, I was wondering that, too,” he says lightly. He purses his lips and stares to the side, “I’ve turned it over a few times in my head, and decided that nope! You don’t need to tip me. You have no lawful or moral obligation, I resolve you.”

You feel your eyes getting watery, so you focus on the dust in the crease between the wall and the floor. Him saying that only makes you feel worse, but it’d be too awkward to hand him the money now. It feels like there should be something you could do, some way you could thank him for keeping you company.

“How many people are staffed right now?” you ask.

He looks caught off guard, like he expected the interaction to end there. “Oh, just me and one other guy in the kitchen.”

“Let me help you close.”

His eyes widen, and you try to meet his gaze. He’s puzzled, probably trying to figure out what you get out of helping him. Eventually, he shrugs his shoulders and gets up from behind the counter.

“Yeah, why not,” he says with a fond smirk, gesturing to you to follow him. 

He leads you to the supply closet, where the two of you grab cleaning spray, rags, and a broom. While you work on wiping down the tables and chairs, he counts the cash in the register.

“So, you always offer to clean up after yourself?” he starts, too focused on tallying up the earnings to notice you staring at him. The waiter, “Dick” according to his name tag, is very cute. You were trying to ignore him the best you could for the sake of your would-be date, but honestly, fuck that guy. Your waiter with the dashing smile and ruffled hair blows him out of the water, anyway.

“Just feeling extra polite tonight. You always accept help from customers?”

“You won’t believe this, but nobody’s offered,” he says with a snort. “Still, probably not the smartest idea on my part.”

You think about his words for a second as you wipe down a particularly stubborn stain. “I wouldn’t be able to rob you if I wanted to.”

It’s true, he looked well-muscled, even if on the leaner side. His eyes are playful as he narrows them at you. “Careful, they take security footage of this place, don't confess to any thoughts you may or may not have.”

You laugh, going back to cleaning before you start again. “Can’t believe you put off closing the diner just so you could watch me get stood up for an extra however many minutes.”

“Counterpoint: Can’t believe you let yourself get stood up for so long.” Dick finishes up at the register and grabs the broom. “You’re worth more than that.”

“Oh? And how do you know what I’m worth?” you say instinctively. 

You watch his eyes widen from your peripheral vision, like he didn’t mean to say his last comment out loud. “I wasn’t trying to overstep, but, like, obviously you’re attractive. You could get anyone you wanted and–”

“You’ve been watching me all night, haven't you?” Filled with newfound confidence, you leave your rag and spray bottle and walk over to where Dick is sweeping the entrance. 

Despite how friendly he’s been tonight, he deliberately avoids eye contact as he works. “Well, yeah, I needed to make sure you got your order once – if – you placed one–”

“No, no. I mean you were watching me,” you place a hand on his shoulder. “What, you wish you were the one I was going on a date with?”

And though you know you’re jumping to conclusions, he stiffens at your words and it’s clear you’ve caught him.

“I… I didn’t want to bother–” Dick starts, dropping the broom. You use the opening to push him against the wall, hearing the scratches of the brick against his button up shirt.

“That’s alright,” you whisper. “I don’t mind being bothered.”

You can feel his chest rise and fall as you press yourself closer to him. His eyes follow your every move, and you bring your face closer until it's only inches away from his. 

You can feel the puffs of his inhales and exhales on your skin, and you’re about to completely close the gap between you two, but Dick beats you to it. He kisses you, and you pull back for a moment in surprise before sinking into the kiss.

His lips are so warm, and as he brings up a hand to pull you closer by the jaw, you notice how surprisingly soft his hands are. You try to deepen the kiss, nipping his lip in the process, and he lets out a gasp. Biting at his lip a little more, he giggles as he realizes you’re playing with him.

“You’re starting to bother me,” he quips, trying to keep his composure as you nip at the underside of his jaw. Just when he starts getting comfortable and relaxing into your kisses, you switch to biting at him, and he jolts.

“Maybe you deserve it. You need to learn better manners, sitting there, watching me all night. Bet you wish I would’ve shoved you against this wall a whole lot sooner, huh?” you whisper into his ear before going back to kissing down his neck. He moans at your words, but tries to muffle himself by pushing his face into his shoulder. You bring a hand up to his hair and tug to get him to pay attention to you.

“Right in front of everyone, too,” you continue, sliding a hand down his stomach to work on his jeans. “Just mark you, make you moan like a bitch while everyone else is watching.”

Biting his lip, Dick tries to ignore the effect your words have on him, but he’s still rutting against your hand as you’re unzipping him. He gives a small thrust against the air, whimpering as you wrap your hand around his cock.

“Shit, this all for me?” you breathe. You swear Dick can hear you smirk, even as he pinches his eyes shut.

“Don’t– Ah!” he gets cut off as you start stroking him slowly. “Don’t let– let it go to your head.”

“No, I think I’ll be just fine,” you quicken your pace, not giving him a second to get ready. “If I remember right, some slut thinks he’s hot enough to get me to fuck him just by, what, batting his eyes at me? From all the way across the diner?”

“Well–” He groans, arching his back against the wall. The sweat shines against his cheeks, you feel so lucky to be the cause of it. “Well I was right, wasn’t I?”

You chuckle, caught off guard. “Guess you are.”

You briefly remove your hand, and Dick grunts, irritated, before you spit in it and go back to forcefully jerking him off. His moans grow louder, and you can see him start to get lost, eyes growing distant while chasing his orgasm.

“Are you going to come already?” you say, slowing your pace to be more deliberate, but still keeping the pressure the same. After a moment of silence, you slap his balls and he lets out a yelp that melts into a groan. 

“Answer me!” you shout, bringing your hand back up to pull at his hair.

“Ah– Yeah, y-yes!” he gasps. “You’re going to make me cum!”

“Good,” you say before you bite at his neck again, sucking a spot right under his jugular. The skin starts to deepen and you lick, tending to it before you nip at it again, just biting hard enough to draw a pinprick of blood. 

Dick screams as he cums, thrusting into your fist at an uncontrolled pace. You work him through it, matching his speed until he falls back against the wall, spent. As he slides down the wall until he sits on the ground, you walk back to one of the chairs.

“Damn, not ready for round two?” you say, propping up your head on the top rail. He huffs through his nose, looking at you for a moment like he’s checking to see if you’re real. He seems to find what he’s looking for, giggling and resting his head on his knees. 

“Oh my god, Dick, stop it. We need to go!” A tall, built man walks out of the kitchen, “Jason” according to his name tag. Looking sheepish, Dick is ready to defend himself, but Jason walks towards him, ignoring every word coming out of Dick’s mouth. 

Dick hands you a napkin, gesturing a phone and mouthing the words “call me” as he’s dragged out of the building by Jason. In shock, you open up the napkin to find his name and his number hastily scribbled in ballpoint pen. Smirking to yourself, you only wish you knew how early on in the night Dick prepared this napkin for you. You could’ve saved the both of you two hours of waiting.

[min1check]

Leto! Joker x side chick! Reader ig…

1248 words

Barely proofread ts so i’m so sorry if u see errors

pt 2

Description: You work at one of Joker’s clubs and he starts to take an interest in you….

Every night there would be presents and money left on my small table in my small ass kitchen in this small ass apartment. 

It all started when I finally learned the real identity of my boss’s boss’s boss at the club I worked at. I really needed money desperately for my family who lived out of the country. I’m currently working on the papers so they can gain legal presence but until then I need to work hard and study hard. 

At the club I worked at, they paid me better than most places and I would be able to go to university in the daytime and work at night. 

The club was pretty high class, there were many high profile politicians who were VIPs. Given that they were even at a club, they were most if not all sleezebags who tried to hit on the staff to the point that I could file sexual harassment charges. But nevermind that. 

The club was so high class and full of VIPs that I didn’t expect it to be owned by the biggest crime lord in this city, the Joker. This whole city was corrupt in and out. Even if I tried to file those sexual harassment charges I would’ve been shut up instantly. 

When I saw this head of green hair and his pale deathly looking skin and his red lips that I couldn’t tell if it was lipstick or blood, I tried my best to not be noticed by him. 

Though he looked like a corpse he was extremely attractive. Maybe in another universe I would actually try to get at him. Well and if his fellow Clown Queen of Crime didn't exist. She frightens me even more than Joker. Well actually that’s a lie but as a girl I can say that we’re ruthless when it comes to boyfriends and husbands and such. Too blind and in too much love to use actual reason.

Harley’s beautiful though they genuinely look good together. 

I went over to Joker’s table where he was talking to (or more like taunting) his client to drop off the drinks. It seemed that everyone else already knew what his regular drink was and his client’s. 

I tried my best not to mess up or to not loudly drop the drinks because at this moment I could actually not stop my whole body from shaking. They continued talking about their deal without even looking at me. I kept a friendly smile on my face. 

I walked off a bit quickly because I was terrified. Yet I felt like someone was staring right at me. I quickly turned my head and all I could see in that moment was Joker with his usual devilishly grin looking straight at me. My blood ran cold. 

When I was out of his sight I closed my eyes and started to pray. 

‘Dear God, please forgive me for any sins I have committed for I do not want to die tonight. I have too much to live for so please don’t let me die. Thank you for everything you have blessed me with Lord, amen.’ 

I was crying internally. 

Literally was gonna kill myself right then and there. But I brought myself back to reality and back to work. 

Whenever I would come to work the Joker would be there with Harley. 

I literally think I’m going crazy because I think he keeps looking straight at me…. With his girlfriend/wife/partner in crime which was even worse. Yeah he was hot but cheating men are scum of the Earth. And Joker’s a mass murderer and other stuff. To be honest I kinda forgot I’ve been too busy with school to care about politics….

I finally got a shift off and a day off of school today. I’m just gonna sleep and lounge around and be fat. I got out of my bed to go get some more ice cream in my kitchen. 

It felt a bit unnerving when I was in the kitchen, like someone was watching me. I shook off the feeling because I had locks on every single window and door. The crime in my country is a bit bad so Gotham wasn’t that much different. 

As soon as I turned around to go back to my bedroom with my ice cream in hand…

“Boo!” 

“What the fuck?!” I screamed so loud that I dropped my bowl of ice cream and it shattered. 

“The look on your face doll… it’s so… funny!” The intruder was the Joker and he couldn’t and wouldn’t stop laughing at my reaction. 

“…” I just stood there in silence thinking about how that bowl was so expensive…

I didn’t want my floor to be sticky so I started picking up shards of the really expensive bowl. 

“Aww~ Are you.. mad doll~?” He teased me with his usual grin. 

“Not really, I’m just a little sad because this bowl was really expensive.” I sighed to myself. 

“If that’s it then here.” Joker tossed money at me. 

“Um… It’s okay I’ll just work for it back.” My mom always taught me that I shouldn’t accept money and that I should always offer to pay so I gave that money back to him. 

“Just take it Doll, think of it as my~ first~ gift~ to~ you~” he really emphasized on the last part like really. 

He got comfy and sat down on a table chair as I cleaned the floor from the sticky mess. 

That sounds a little wrong, I just mean my ice cream trust…

After cleaning it all, it occurred to me…

Why and how did the Joker get into my apartment…

My blood ran cold. I feel like I could turn into a reptile with how much my blood goes cold. 

“I liked seeing you at my club but I like seeing you in this shaggy apartment more.” He looked at me. 

“Um… how did you get in here?” I spoke quietly afraid I would somehow strike a nerve. 

“It was easy! I broke your window.” He spoke like he just finished climbing Mt. Everest. 

My mouth dropped to the floor. 

Like I tried to close it but it just wouldn't. 

“…” 

“What~? Cat got your tongue Doll?” He grinned. 

I’m actually going to kill myself. 

At this point I hope he pulls out the glock 19 and shoots me….

Wait but all my windows are barred up…

I looked into my living room and realized there was glass everywhere and the metal bar was stretched apart enough where it would fit the Joker perfectly. 

Calculating the cost in my head I actually started to cry. Tears ran down my face. 

I would be fine if I picked up a few extra shifts but I had to study more because finals were coming up. I’ll have to cut down on food and sleep…

The Joker awkwardly patted my back. 

“Here’s some more money Princess.” 

“I.. Cant accept it.” I said between sniffles and pushed his money back to him. 

He suddenly grabbed my head with both his hands and made me stare him in the eye. 

“Take. The. Money. Princess. Or else I’ll shove it down your throat.” His face was way too close to mine. 

“Thank you…” I tried my best to smile while he was still manhandling my head. 

He kissed me out of literally nowhere. 

My blood went cold again. 

I don’t want to be a mistress or some side bitch….

And Harley’s gonna kill me……

Yet it felt so good. 

[lavouredior]

u should doooo bunny!reader x vox 🤭🔮

🔮anon is coming for everyone atp but i have the most perfect idea for this one !!

warnings: bunny!reader is sensitive, vox . . . is not the most reliable with being nice 24/7, not proofread, vox refers to reader as baby, valentino is his own warning, bunny is short as hell

Cry Bunny

“i’m just saying that the little conejita would make a ton of money” vox just blinked at valentino after that sentence. you were sitting on vox’s lap during one of the vee’s meetings. you didn’t much care for the conversations and you didn’t really pay attention to half the things they said. then again vox also distracted you anyway he could especially because when velvette was late, like today, valentino’s attention always was turned to you.

“you’re not making my girlfriend a porn star val.” your boyfriend sighed, you barely were able to be within a couple feet of valentino let alone be able to work with him. especially due to the fact that if you weren’t currently sitting on your boyfriends lap you would probably be freaking out over the fact you’re even in the same room as valentino.

valentino got up and moved from his seat on the other side of the board room table to one next to you and vox. he leaned over so he could be eye level with you, taking your attention away from whatever movie vox put on your phone to entertain you. “conejita, wouldn’t you like to be a star?” you just stared back at the moth before turning your gaze to vox which caused valentino to let out a sigh.

“see! she won’t even answer me she’s too worried about what her little boyfriend wants to answer” vox let out a sigh at this. “val. i don’t control her.” valentino thought for a moment before sitting back up and smirking at vox. “then hand her over. she obviously won’t answer without your opinion if she’s still with you.” vox rolled his eyes before sighing again. “val-” the moth immediately cut him off. “vox you know i’m right.”

vox made eye contact with you as you were still staring at him before picking you up and putting you on valentino’s lap which immediately caused you to reach back out for vox. valentino used one set of hands to move you so you looked at him and another set to hold your hips. “look at me little conejita.”

you looked at valentino, but not for long as your vision started to get blurry due to tears welling up in your eyes. valentino sighed “i forgot how much of a cry baby this little conejita is.” he picked you up and set u down on your feet right in front of vox. who expected you to immediately climb back onto his lap for comfort. but to his surprise when he reached out to you he was met with the sound of a thump.

vox did research on bunnies when he first started going out with you. one of the main things he learned is that when a bunny thumps it’s basically a big “fuck you”. he was glad you never did it to him before so you can imagine his surprise when you thump at him for the first time.

“baby.” your boyfriend said lowly. valentino pissed him off half the time to begin with, but now you thumping at him too? he tried to remain calm but his patience was thinning. “the little conejita has never thumped at me.” he was right, you never would dare thump at valentino, he scared you too much. vox scared you at times too, but you were still upset about him just giving you to valentino that you thumped at him again.

vox didn’t know what to do at this point, you were usually his well behaved little bunny that usually never caused trouble, he’s only needed to punish you once and that’s because he had caught you chatting with the radio demon. so he was quite surprised to see his baby bunny thumping at him. especially when he’s trying to calm down the crying that was still coming from you.

he took a deep breath before picking up your much smaller figure and bringing you back onto his lap. “hey.” he said in a stern but still comforting tone, it wasn’t until he noticed you not paying any attention to him that he got a little louder. “hey!” you immediately looked up at him sniffling.

he sighed before looking over at his business partner and signaling him to leave. “i’m trying to be nice to you here baby, but you’re making it hard when you’re not even paying attention to me.” he said it in his more comforting tone trying not to work you up more as he hates the sight of you crying. “what’s with the thumping? you don’t do that with me i thought?”

you shook your head trying to wipe away your tears but more just came flooding down afterwards “you gave me to valentino. i don’t like valentino.” he let out another sigh before kissing your forehead and pulling you into him. “i know baby, but the thumping is not okay. not with me okay? you wanna thump you can thump at valentino all you want.”

you shook your head again, why couldn’t he understand you were scared and he gave you to the reason you were so scared? vox stood up and set you down next to his chair. you looked up at him confused before you heard a thump. which caused you to just stand there confused.

“see baby? it’s not so fun to be thumped at hmm?” you shook your head at his comment immediately moving to try and get comfort again. grabbing onto his waist as it was level to your chest due to the height difference. vox sat back down and pulled you back onto his lap. “we done thumping now?” you nodded and vox immediately pulled you closer so that your head laid against his chest. “good because i have to deal with valentino being pissy all the time i don’t need my baby thumping at me all the time to add onto that.”

[haikyu-mp4]

Hello! So can i request about kageyama? I want to request what his reaction will be when he accept his first birthday gift from reader in his first year because he didnt receive any of it in his middle school, plus he didnt think his birthday is that important to celebrate since his grandpa often forgot about and his sister is busy with her works. And reader give him the present in front of school gate when they going home. That's it, i'm very sorry for my bad grammar😔😔

Present

word count; 487 – gn!reader

You had not been dating Kageyama for long by the time his birthday rolled around. Since Halloween, when he struggled to ask you out properly while wearing the fake vampire teeth. After you said yes and went in for a little kiss on the cheek, the edge of your witch hat poked him in the eye.

A charming start for sure.

The two of you agreed to not get each other Christmas gifts, seeing as you hadn’t been dating for that long and would rather spend that money on doing something together instead. However, nothing could stop you from finding the best gift for Tobio’s birthday.

On the 22nd of December, you excitedly made your way out the school entrance in your puffer coat, gloved hands clutching onto the blue box containing that sweater Tobio thought Oikawa looked so cool in on his Instagram. It had taken some of your savings and a little help from your parents, but you were so happy you could get it for him.

You yelled out his name, taking a couple of deep, nervous breaths before you were right in front of him. He was waiting by the gate for you, as he would walk you home on the days neither of you had any club activities.

“Hey,” he greeted you, confusion on his face from how you had called out to him.

“Happy birthday, Tobio!” you said cheerfully, holding out the present with both hands. Your boyfriend seemed to freeze, staring down at the box and then back up at you.

“What’s in the box?” he asked, pointing at it awkwardly.

“You have to open it!” you said, trying to keep the energy up.

“It’s for me?”

“A birthday gift!” you confirmed. ��For you, yes.”

He took the box and you could swear his chest puffed out in something similar to pride. You took his free hand and smiled widely.

“Is your family celebrating? You can open it with them if you want to.”

“My family,” he seemed to consider it, and you disliked how his eyebrows flocked together and lower lip slowly pointed out in a pout, even though it made him look cute. “No, they wished me happy birthday this morning.”

You blinked at him, not sure what to say to that. “Then…” You licked your lips. “Maybe we can go get some food?”

And he was very happy with that, even slightly swinging your hands between you two as he told you all about how he and Hinata were planning something for practice the day after.

While waiting for the food, he opened his present and you were satisfied with the little stars in his eyes as he thanked you. “This is exactly the one I wanted,” he confirmed, and this experience alone felt like it would fuel your energy for eternity.

It might not be much, not some huge party, but it was everything to him.

masterlist

[flowershines]

Say that again

Peeta Mellark x Stripper F. reader

warnings: name calling, smut, dom mike, hard dom, insulting, doggy style, unprotected sex, creampie

Nights usually were not as tense as tonight was, when Peeta had gotten home from his job he got no sleep and of course had to get snotty with you, just because he was tired.

Arguing back and forth to the point of almost screaming just to get their point across, but that wasn’t even the worse part.

Peeta was too tired to argue that he had forgotten what you guys were arguing about making you even more mad, at this point he just kept going to hear his own voice.

But before we get into the arguing currently, the reason the whole argument started was because he insulted your job which of course isn’t that bad but he kept going till he started arguing about the things that you always do wrong.

“Peeta you really should start at least taking a nap before work so that way you dont come home tired.”

“I don’t need your help, Y/n.”

“Oh ok, I was just trying to help, sorry.”

“You should be and I don't want your help just stop being clingy and leave me alone.”

“What is wrong with you, I was just looking out for you.”

“Well don’t it’s not your job, oh speaking of jobs you do yours?”

“I-”

“Exactly what I thought so dont talk to me till you get your priorities straight.”

“You act like I don't have a job.” You said laughing at him

This made him even more pissed, “Oh sorry forgot you get praised by other men by dancing in their face while they put money in your pocket like some filthy piggy bank.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” He said inches away from your face then walked away.

“Atleast they fuck better than you.”

“What did you just say.”

“You heard me.” You said mimicking his tone.

Now both of you guys were just arguing about how you started doing your job, defending yourself he just kept coming at you.

When you both first started dating he knew about your job and he was okay with it, because you were helping out the both of you out with the money.

The part that got him riled up was when you said that they fucked better than he does.

You made a deal with him that you wouldn’t have sex with any of the customers.

That’s why he was screaming at you now.

“So do you just go around whoring which every guy you meet or just your customers.”

“I just was saying that to rile you up.”

“No you weren’t, you know what my ex has better pussy than you.”

“Oh for real.”

“Yeah.”

With that you grabbed your jacket and keys then started walking to the door.

“Where you going?”

“Not like you care or anything but i’m going to my job to find a guy that can dick me down, cause you don’t do shit for me.”

“Bull shit, i always make you cum.”

“Oh but apparently you also make your ex cum too, so go fuck her.”

“No Y/n I didn’t mean it.”

“Nah you good, i’m pretty sure there are gonna be cute guys there too. I mean there always is and guess who always gets them, ME.”

Grabbing the door knob you started to put your jacket on and leave to go to your car, you knew that you weren’t going to do any of the things you were taking about.

But you just wanted to see if he actually cared.

He grabbed you hand before you left and threatened you saying.

“If you go fuck some guy i’m fucking my ex and sending a video to you.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you too.”

He held the sides of your face and placed a hard and passionate kiss, he kept kissing you and occasionally biting your lip in the process.

“Ow, Peeta what the fuck.”

“Just shut up and enjoy.”

“How can I you can’t even make me cum.”

“Wanna test that out.”

You laughed in his face riling him up even more than he already is, he pins you against the door and humps his hard on, on your thigh.

“This is what is going to be making you beg that you never said that.”

“Yeah… Okay.” You said laughing again

He continued kissing you roughly and biting your lips and sneaking his tongue into your mouth.

Humping his hard cock on your thigh feeling it twitching, you try your hardest not to give in to his needs.

He grabbed your hand and pulled you into your shared bedroom and pushed you onto the bed.

“Hey!”

“What’s wrong I thought you liked being treated like a slut?”

You just rolled your eyes, he stripped your pants off your legs and kissed from your thigh up to your clothed heat, noticing how wet you are.

“See you like it, fucking slut.”

He pulled your underwear to the side and stick his finger into you then going to suck on your clit.

He adds his middle finger as he fingers you and eats you out at the same time, not wanting to give in to him you didn’t encourage him nor play with his hair.

You just brought your nails up to your face and started looking along with picking at them acting like he wasn’t even doing anything.

This pissed him off, he yanked your underwear off and unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants.

Still looking at your nails you tried to ignore what he was doing but your thoughts were interrupted by him entering you.

You softly moaned trying to have him not hear, his breathing was shaking.

“You like being fucked like this?”

He started to slam his cock in you at a vigorous pace, then he pulled out making you clench around nothing.

He put you on your stomach and told you to put your ass up.

Doing so you grabbed your phone and started playing a coloring game, he then started fucking you again.

“I know your just fucking with me, i know you like this dick by the way you clenching around me.” He grunted

“This pussy is mine, not some random customers.”

He then started going as fast and hard as he could at this point you couldn’t hold it in anymore and gave in to him.

“Fuck.”

He was a groaning and moaning mess behind you.

“I’m gonna cum soon.”

“Fuck, me too.”

He was still going in you he usually has pulled out by now.

“What are you doing?”

“Cumming in you.”

“What? Why?”

“So every time you think of us fucking think of my cum still in you and to remind you of what happens when you pull that shit with me.”

With that he moans in your ear and cums in you.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything I said earlier.”

“I know, i’m sorry too.”

[personasintro]

Mutual Help | #08

𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭: @kithtaehyung

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.6k+

⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢ 

"Why are we here?" you ask with narrowed eyes, eyeing your best friend whose cheeks are puffed up with pork belly.

"We are on a date." he answers with an obvious tone.

"I got that from your single message." you roll your eyes, remembering the message you got when you barely got home.

It's Tuesday, it's not even the middle of the week, and you definitely weren't expecting him to want to hang out during the week. He's lucky you were hungry anyway, home with an almost empty fridge. He knows you can't say no to food, especially when it's a typical Korean barbecue.

'I'm taking you out in an hour, be ready'

That's what the message said and even when his black car parked in front of your apartment building, he barely explained the point of all of this.

"Well, this is Seokjin's restaurant," he starts, seeing your dumbfounded look before he sighs. "Seokjin, you've met him when we went bowling with Tae, Jimin and Kiko. Even Hoseok tagged along." he explains, unfolding a very hazy memory.

If you remember correctly, it was the day when Jungkook introduced Kiko to you.

Jungkook looks like you should know exactly who he is, and the way he stares at you like if you were an idiot makes you annoyed. "It happened like a year ago. Do you really expect me to remember that?" you snark, rolling your eyes in annoyance when you see Jungkook doing the same.

So much for acting like a couple who loves each other.

"Anyway, he's not here right now. But Hoseok works here as operations manager."

Hoseok, Kiko's close friend, is here right now and it all makes sense. He knows when Hoseok would see you, he'd probably tell Kiko. Nothing is sure, but it's worth a shot.

"Ah, right. Now I get it." you breathe out, reaching for a chopsticks before you make yourself a wrap.

Jungkook just nods along, eating quietly before he opens his mouth. "Oh, Seokjin is getting married and he invited me to his wedding. You're coming with me."

"What? Why do I need to be there?" you exclaim with a full mouth, causing him to glare at you in disgust before he sighs.

"Because I need a date and he knows we're dating. He kinda invited you as well," he explains, shooting you his pleading look which consists of his doe eyes and slightly pouted lips in hope. "Okay, I'm sorry for dropping this on you all of a sudden. He just called me yesterday to remind me of the wedding and I forgot. I was supposed to go with Kiko, but that changed..." he trails off, silencing himself for a few seconds before he continues. "And now he knows we're dating, so I told him you'll come."

"Yeah, okay. Is she going to be there?"

He nods, biting the inside of his cheek. "Yes, Seokjin is marrying her best friend. She is going to be there."

With that, you only nod and stuff your mouth again.

It's just another plan that might work perfectly. Jungkook told you about him and Kiko talking to each other at the club. He hasn't said much, but he clearly sees the hope in winning her back. Even you can see it, after hearing her questioning you and his relationship. If she didn't care, she wouldn't ever stop by to talk to him.

"When's the wedding?" you ask him, noting that you need to buy a proper dress for that.

Your wardrobe mainly consists of sweatpants, slacks and basic shirts. If you want to look good, you need to invest some money in a nice dress.

"Next week."

"Jungkook!" you exclaim, watching your best friend in horror.

Next week is too soon.

He sheepishly looks at you, offering you a piece of pork belly with his chopsticks as a sign of apology. You roll your eyes again, but still lean towards him to eat the meat, not forgetting to glare at him in the process.

"What are you doing?"

Eyeing Jungkook, who's scooting his way over to you as he unlocks his phone.

"We should take a photo," he answers, turning on his camera. "And make it Instagram official, baby." he wiggles his brows, causing you to snort in return before you try to adjust your hair.

"Wait, I'm not ready." you tell him, glaring at the phone that's shoved into your face before Jungkook snaps the picture of your face.

He snorts, looking at the picture of you glaring at the camera with hands in your hair and slightly opened mouth. He tries to do it again, but you slap his hands before you properly adjust your hair. You smile into the camera, before Jungkook does the same and snaps a picture.

He eyes it, brows furrowing as he exhales. "It looks like most of our photos."

You lean to him, looking at the photo that looks cute. Jungkook obviously looks hot, even with the soft smile that's settled on his lips. "I think it looks good." you shrug, reaching for your drink as you slowly sip from it.

"We're supposed to look like we're in love," he points out, shoulders dropping in disappointment.

Well, you came here on a date and yet you've spent all your time teasing and making jokes. None of that showed one piece of your fake love.

"Come on, let's take another one." he nudges you, causing you to groan but you still lean closer to him.

Jungkook puts his arm around your waist, pulling you even closer to him as you quickly smile into the camera. He does the same, your faces much closer before he starts to take more of them which turns to you goofing around, making different grimaces that makes you both laugh. The last shot is probably the best one and most believable. You're smiling widely with your eyes closer, while Jungkook presses his nose softly into your cheek, with a toothed grin.

You both check all the photos, none of you moving from each other as you silently comment on every one of them. You're both too focused from your creations to notice someone approaching, that's until he speaks catching both of yours attention.

"Hey, Hoseok." Jungkook greets him back, glancing at the man that's sporting a black slacks and a casual white button up.

"Hey guys, what a surprise," he beams, smiling at you when you wave at him in a brief greeting.

Although, you know Hoseok since the two of you hang out with the same people, you can't really consider him as your friend. He's a nice guy, very communicative, friendly and loud. You both have the same circle of friends, so there are times when you see each other from time to time. But that's it.

"What are you doing here?" he asks, looking back at Jungkook.

"We're on a date." he answers, a realization crossing on Hoseok's face as he takes his outstretched arm behind you and the proximity between you two.

"Oh," he opens his mouth in surprise. "So it's true." he comments, chuckling after that but something about his tone is off.

Of course. He's Kiko's friend.

"Yeah," Jungkook nods, not really sure what to say.

Just as you think he'll let it go, he opens his mouth again.

"I've never expected you guys to end up together,"

You shift in your seat awkwardly. "None of us did." you mutter, earning a very subtle kick to your shin from Jungkook underneath the table.

"We've decided to try it," Jungkook shrugs.

It's so damn fucking awkward, his short responses earning even more suspicious look from Hoseok, that he desperately tries to hide underneath his friendly smile. And the fact that you and Jungkook act so weird doesn't help.

"Ah, hyung," your best friend suddenly says, unlocking his phone before he hands it to Hoseok. "Can you take a photo of us?"

Hoseok eyes his phone before he slowly takes it from his hands, glancing at you before he smiles. "Sure."

It looks like Jungkook is one step ahead of you, knowing his friend and his rare fake smile. He must've thought the same thing like you did, proving that he got this. No matter how many times your conscience comes up to tell you that you're getting busted, Jungkook proves you wrong.

And when Hoseok finally aims the camera at the two of you, you're completely shocked when Jungkook grabs your face gently, hand spreading on your neck with his thumb on your cheek, before he connects your lips together. He kisses you, right in front of him, hiding your own shock by his mouth. When he pulls away, he does it slowly making sure when he opens his eyes, he's looking straight into yours with unrecognizable glint in them.

He traces your lips with his thumb, before he pulls away and looks at his friend. "Thanks." he says, grinning as he takes his phone from him.

"Yeah, no worries." Hoseok mutters, smiling at you as Jungkook takes a look at the photos.

Just when you thought he bought it, you glance from Jungkook's screen at Hoseok causing your breath to hitch. He's subtle, but still sporting an evident frown on his face as his eyes are glued to you. Your nerves get the best of you, a nervous smile spreading on your lips as Jungkook is completely obvious at your exchange with his friend.

Hoseok smiles at you, shaking off his previous frown as if he never stared at you like that.

But this time, you're smarter and see right through him.The smile he gave you was fake.

[intotherumiverse]

★ ૮₍ ≧ . ≦ ₎ა 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐏𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞 𝐔𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐲 !!

ღ. synopsis ; one peice characters and the majors and trades they're in !

ღ. featuring ; luffy m. ; zoro r. ; sanji v. ; ussop ; robin ; nami ; chopper ; brook + bonus !

ღ. cw ; weed mention, cursing, shitposting

ღ. notes ; i haven't written in so long I forgot how to so this.... bare w me on this one !

luffy

luffy is an international relation major

all the professors love him and its defintely the only reason he's passing his classes

he has not one clue what going on (most of the time), head empty

also has really good finals grades

like its so surprising to see him pass with a low b high c average

he's really likeable, everyone and they momma wants to hang out with him

usally hanging out with sanji (bc he cooks) or zoro (caus he thinks he's cool)

he tutors with nami and robin sometimes (they're the only ones that can deal with him on the regular)

he's so silly and goofy i love him your honor

zoro

bussniess major but is never doing what he needs to do

classes? not in them. Homework? What's that? he is no where to be found and that should scare you.

he's somehow doing well in class and no one can figure out how he's doing it.

he's the captain of the fighting club (first rule of fight club? no talking about fight club) and he's good with members and running them

he hates the idea of hazing in his club and will kick you out if you try it

he has a special bond with one of the advisors given to him and he defends him like hell

he hangs around luffy bc he thinks of him as a little brother and wants to make sure he's alright

fights with sanji because he thinks its sooooo fucking funny

he's a regualar at the local bar to the point they don't even I.D him anymore they're just like "there's zoro."

sanji

definitely a food science major

he loves trying out new recipes and helping in the kitchen

sometimes when money gets low, he'll have a bake sale and they always do really fucking well

sometimes he'll take apprentenships for "fun" and so he's just racked up expirence in working in different places

his dream job is to have his own resturant where he can create his own dishes and not take any shit from anyone

also (because my sanji is a weed smoker not a cig user) will sometimes make weed pastries and they do so well when he sells them

would be outside on a smoke break but somehow never smells like weed its so crazy

would be the type of student to grumble and complain about homework but still do it anyway (he's just like me fr)

ussop

went to a shopworking trade school (his momma didn't want him to learn nothing after high school so she made him)

he found out later that he like working on different things and keeping himself busy

he also like gardening in his spare time

he's like really good at it and sometimes when his garden is too much for his family, he'll either give it to his neighbors or sell it in the farmer's market

his most frequent customer is sanji because sanji likes the freshest products avaliable

sanji askes him to hang out and try his recipes from time to time and eventually he makes friends with everyone

nami

earth sceiene major with minor in accounting

she is the the most ruthless student you'll ever meet

she don't take any shit from no one regardless of who you are, which is why she makes such a good tutor

she makes sure all her students get a good grade and because she tutors both zoro and luffy, she makes BANK

she also is the pretty girl on campus and all her friends pretty too !

hair done, lashes done, lashes done, face card don't decline, body tea !

she loves hanging out with the group but she'll never tell you that but everyone knows she cares about her people

she's lowkey scary

she isn't afriad to curse you the fuck out when you piss her off

fiercely loyal my girl nami is badddd

robin

history major with a minor in english

knows everything about everything and is one of the best tutors of the campus

she's kinda shy (mostly cause she doesn't like people but she's trying)

luffy thought she was cool and just kept bothering her until she reluctantly accepted

she's a real history buff and can debate her history like no one else

once got into it with zoro for a peice of random history

chopper

struggling medicene major

he looks stressed at all times and somehow is keeping a 4.0 gpa

luffy and zoro will come over with brusises and he just takes one look at him and sighs deeply

he helps in the nursing home with the doctors because he feels happy when people are treated

he doesn't like when people treat him or others differently so he's such a big advocate for anti discrimination against anyone

he likes helping people that most doctors would ignore and people hate him for that

he's not good at taking compliments so its funny to see him react to the compliments

he loves sweets and he loves when sanji makes them so he's always first in line at sanjis bake sale

he's so cute and small your honor

frankky

mechanic (trade school)

a literal grease monkey

he's always making something in his garage and

he makes custom peices for his friends and even sold some to some of the rich kids

besides that he's really cool about things

he's co chill about everything and help fix things whenever the crew needs it

all in all a cool dude

brook

old ass music head

he's one of the best musicains and he's so casual about it

he's a allumi for the school and he takes students every year to train them and teach them what he knows

he only takes like 5 students a year so the spots are very competative and very hard to get into

hes so chill otherwise

the type of mentor to call you out on your bullshit but still

extra little bonus scene!

the gang goes to Jinbe's resturant every week after all they're classes. Luffy had stumbled upon it one day and he just slowly started to get his friends to go their and that's just become their hangout spot since then. Jinbe pretends to hate when they come over but in all actuality, he loves talking to them and getting to know them as a group and as individuals. he loves their energy and will make sure they eat well and they're getting good grades.

no tag list for now but make sure you're supporting the people that are spending time making works for your entertainment !

@rynfiles ; @strawhatkia

[utytimeline]

I might make some people mad, but I'm gonna say it, anyway.

So, Ceroba's reason for choosing Chujin over Star was because she wanted someone more mature. At least, that's my understanding. Star was playing cowboy and role-playing with his friends while she wanted to settle down and raise a family.

And... yeah, Star had a lot of growing up to do. And he did almost none of it until Ceroba stopped him from shooting us.

Star's main character flaw is his ego, but it's even worse than just an ego. Half the reason he set up the Wild East was to help everyone else. He wanted to bring in money to help his family when the Swelterstone's effects caused a drought; he wanted monsters to get a taste of what the surface is like so they don't drown in despair; and he wanted to make Ceroba happy after she lost both her husband and her child. All of this on top of feeling like he was a "nobody farmer" that couldn't do anything or help anyone.

So Star's primary character flaw isn't as simple as just having a big ego. His primary character flaw is trying to fix others as a way of fixing himself.

Sometimes this is a good thing, tho. I often think of Star as the "papa" of the Feisty Five. He's the protective one, he's the one teaching them ethics (reminding Mooch that they're not supposed to be bandits, playing dead to teach Clover about the responsibility of potentially hurting someone), he takes care of the town, he's made ALL his own money from this town that he built himself (enough that Mooch wants his inheritance, so it's a sizeable amount), he even gave his posse a designated nap time, gave Ceroba a home (and possibly gave her his bed while he crashes on the couch), sews his own clothes, set up all the rules and regulations... and I could go on, but I think I've made my point. Star is not wholly irresponsible. He's not perfectly responsible- he, and the rest of the posse, have a habit of breaking and losing Blackjack's weapons, they're all loud and rowdy, and they have a tendency to forget to turn off their boulder machines out in the Dunes.

So, yeah, Star does still have some growing up to do. But he's got a good start.

As for... everything that went wrong... That was entirely due to Star's worship of humanity. Star fell in love with westerns and with the justice and overall sense of romance that they portrayed, so much so that he not only tried to make himself into one of his western heroes, but he then extended this worship to the first human to ever set foot in the Dunes- namely, Clover. And because of this, Star completely threw everything that was good about himself out the window. He sees a human an immediately decides "this is my deputy," without even really giving Clover a fair chance to see if they even are deputy material. He forgot the safety glasses, got so worked up he forgot how to pronounce "duel," became extremely temperamental, apparently forgot that Vengeful Virgil was scheduled for the train mission that day, locked up a Royal Guard against her will (arguably committing treason in doing so, I might add), and just generally began running over everyone's words and emotions, including Ceroba's.

So when it came down to the Showdown... Star blamed Clover. Star's not an idiot. He knows good and well it's not Clover's fault. It's Star's fault- or more precisely, it's his worship of humanity that is to blame. But the problem is, he's taken it upon himself to guard the feelings of other monsters, to make them feel hope and joy. And he just screwed up and stole all that from them. So he's conflicted, not willing to admit that he has done the exact opposite of everything he set out to do. And since it's his worship of humans that led him to this point, he decides to blame the human.

Hence, the Showdown.

But he doesn't want to do it. He says himself, "Monsterkind's Hero is a title soaked in blood." He loves humans. And he sees Clover as a friend. He doesn't want to kill them. He's not a killer, and he doesn't want to be one. He doesn't believe in it. Justice is one thing, but... how is it just to kill someone that did nothing wrong?

So. Here's where Ceroba comes in. Telling Star he needs to calm down and go back to who he used to be. And Star points out that she's changed, too. Even Ceroba says, before taking Clover to the Steamworks, that she doesn't know if she has room to tell Star to go back to the Starlo she used to know.

Ceroba, tho, is no different than Star (this is the part that I said might make some people mad). Ceroba worships Chujin just as much as Star worships humans.

Ok, look. Chujin was a great craftsman. He built so much- furniture for Dalv, his and Ceroba's house, the space heater at the Honeydew Resort, many other items in use throughout the Underground, Kanako's toys (even programmed a video game for her), and so much more. So much that even Star respects him for all that he did for everyone.

However, there is also much that indicates that Chujin wasn't the best at his job. His only award is "You Tried at Engineering," and it took 14 tries for him to build a working robot. In Chujin's defense, I will say that it is impressive that he did build a working, sentient robot without the use of a SOUL, which is how Alphys made both Mettaton and Mew Mew; however, if Chujin is really such a genius, why did it take 14 tries to get Axis to work, when it apparently only took 1 try for Guardener?

And then Chujin didn't just stop with robotics, but went on to SOUL research. Two completely different fields. (And before anyone starts commenting on Alphys, I just want to point out, yet again, that both of the robots she built did use SOUL power; so, realistically, Alphys never was a great robotics genius, but rather, everything she did was a part of SOUL research- hence, the reason Asgore hired her as the Royal Scientist). But Chujin decided to press on with his SOUL research, despite there being no indication anywhere that he had ever done any such research before.

Now, I'm not trying to say that Chujin wasn't remarkable or a genius. I'm just pointing out some things that indicate that maybe he wasn't quite the genius that Ceroba wanted to make him out to be. And... Ceroba's reaction to his "You Tried" award. She's proud of him. More pride than what is warranted by such an award.

Ceroba said she met Chujin when he pretty much rescued her after she twisted her ankle, fell into a ditch, and laid there for several hours, unable to move. She also said that she had considered dating Starlo before meeting Chujin. So... hate me for this if you want to, but I feel like she may not have the best judgement when it comes to guys. Now, that's not to say she picked losers or creeps. Both Chujin and Starlo were/are sweethearts that care deeply about everyone around them. But the fact remains that Ceroba left behind the guy that she'd known all her life for a guy she just met, just because he rescued her from a bad situation.

And I'm not even saying she made a bad choice! By all accounts- including Ceroba's, Martlet's, and even Starlo's- Chujin was a good, kind-hearted, hard-working monster, and a wonderful husband and father. But... he wasn't perfect. And I think Ceroba, even though they had to have been married at least 10 years, just always had stars in her eyes where he was concerned. He was her everything. She believed he could do no wrong. She believed it so strongly, she was willing to do... many horrible things.

Ceroba's drive to kill Clover started with her love for Chujin. She wanted to do anything to keep him alive in her own heart. And when their child begged and pleaded for a chance to help, Ceroba agreed, because Kanako woshipped her father, too. Ceroba's misguided belief in her husband guided her to do things she would never have done otherwise.

Thus the reason for her guilt. It's not just guilt over killing her own child. It's also guilt over knowing that it was her own misguided worship of a monster that wasn't as perfect as she thought he was, that this was what led her to kill, and to kill again.

Ceroba worshipped Chujin. Just as Starlo worshipped the ground Clover walked on, Ceroba worshipped the ground Chujin walked on.

So when people point to Ceroba's comment that Starlo didn't grow up... yeah. She's right. Starlo needed to grow up.

But so did Ceroba.

One of the hardest parts of growing up is realizing that the people you worship are just people. They make mistakes, and you, yourself, are mistaken for believing they can do no wrong.

So, anyway. There's as much Staroba (Starfox, I call them) hatred as there is love for the ship. I've seen both sides of the argument: Starlo isn't mature enough; Ceroba is insane. Yeah. You're both right. And that's why they're perfect for each other. They both made the mistake of changing everything they were in an effort to continue worshipping their idols. They both went nuts. They were both driven to kill. This is the inherent danger of idolatry, believing so much in something that isn't real, that you will do anything to make it stay real to you.

[thewritetofreespeech]

Could I request Gojo's reaction to his s/o, who has the ability to perceive the future, getting harassed because her client's not happy about their future?

Satoru hummed a happy little tune as he walked down the busy streets of Tokyo to go see his wife.

He had been blessed with an unusual day off after a quick meeting with the ‘old men’; probably because they were so annoyed with him that they just wanted him to go away. Still, it was a rare treat. So he thought he would surprise his wife by taking her to lunch. She could afford to close the shop for a day.

The sorcerer giggled a little as he wondered if she knew he was coming. With her innate ability to see and predict the future, it was hard to pull surprises on her. But he always tried. Taking the challenge on at every turn to keep his wife guessing and marriage spicy.

“That’s not right! You’re a liar!!”

Satoru’s eyebrows jutted up over his sunglasses, hearing the yelling once he had come in the door. He walked in further to the shop towards the back, where [Y/N] would hold private readings, and saw a woman who had clearly just jumped up from the table and was pointing at [Y/N].

“I’m sorry,” she apologized to the angry looking woman, “but that’s what I see.”

“No! That’s not true! He promised he would leave his wife and be with me! That has to be what my future will be next year!”

“I mean….there’s a possibility that the prediction could change. The future isn’t set in stone but-“No buts! I want my money back!”

“I can’t give you your money back just because you don’t like your prediction. This is a business. If you wanted someone to just agree with you, then you should have just called a friend.”

“They told me to come here! I see now that they just wanted me to get cheated too! You’re nothing but a liar and a con artist! I know my future and it’s to be with him, and you’re just making this up because you’re alone & jealous!”

“If you knew your future, then why did you even come here? Clearly there’s some underlying trust issues if you asked your friends, I assume family, and now a premonitions expert. This is just free advice at this point but maybe this relationship isn’t what you want for you’re future.”

The woman went full red at this point and raised her hand to presumably strike [Y/N]. She never got the chance though as Satoru grabbed her forearm to stop it just as soon as it was raised. “Now, now. Let’s have none of that.”

The woman looked startled and jerked out of his grasp and away from him. “Who the hell are you?”

“Just a concerned customer.” He replied with a cheeky grin, which he could see that [Y/N] did not appreciate out of the corner of her eye. “And also, her husband.”

The woman’s face went from shocked, to a mixture of crushed, back to angry. Clearly realizing that the only person alone in the room was her, but not yet willing to accept it. “I want my money back! Or I’ll sue!”

“Go ahead.” Satoru told her. Then pressed his fingers to his temple, “but I see an arrested in your future if you keep pressing this. Attempted battery is almost just as serious as if you actually landed that punch.” The woman let out an angry huff, then grabbed her belongings and dashed out. “Another satisfied customer.”

“Don’t be mean Satoru.” [Y/N] replied once they were alone and stood up to clean the mess the woman had made of her reading table. “It’s not my fault she’s chosen a hard path. I didn’t even have to use my ability to tell her this wasn’t going to end well. What was I supposed to do? Lie?”

“I’m sure she wouldn’t have minded. Delusional people like that only want to hear what they want to hear.” No one needed psychic abilities to see that.

“What are you doing here by the way?”

“Oh! I came to take you to lunch!” In the commotion, he almost forgot why he was there. “The old men gave me the day off, so I thought I would spend it with you.”

“That’s nice.” [Y/N] said with a smile. “But I have to work Satoru.”

“Why?” He asked with a pout. “You know we don’t need the money. I know you like to work but….you can take off for one day. Plus, shouldn’t you get hazard time for almost having a client flip a table on you?”

[Y/N] chuckled a little. Even if it was a sad sort of noise. “Well…I guess you’re right. The shop will be fine if we close early for today.”

“Hooray!”

Satoru helped her clean up the last little bit and they left. He asked her once, when they were dating, to use her powers on him but she said that she couldn’t. His future had too many variables. Too full of potential. But he knew, even when they first met, that his future was going to be with her.

He didn’t need psychic abilities to see that.