#please remember he doesn't owe us anything

[justatypicalwizard]

Katsuki doesn't believe in love at first sight

Katsuki never believed in love at first sight. How could someone meet eyes and feel as if a thunder ruptured down from the skies and struck them? To love someone means to accept every part of them and to be able to incorporate them into your everyday life. It means building a brand new everyday with that person.

In order to do so you need to know a lot about them. Who they are, what are their plans for the future, what is their character and so on. Then you need to see if you are compatible in many spheres. You need to invite them to your friends group to see if it’ll hit off, you should try living together, they need to get to know your parents.

There are simply so many things to check off the list in order to be able to say you love someone. Otherwise it’s just empty words. I love you here and there. I love you for a week. I love you when you do as I please. Bullshit.

Mina constantly pestered Katsuki that his definition of love feels more like a chore or a job interview than like something a human would be able to accomplish. It wasn’t his fault he had some standards everyone else seemed to lack.

So even now Katsuki doesn’t like to admit that he fell in love at first sight, because it wasn’t the first time when he looked at you.

A quiet ping of his phone tore him out of his work. A new message from someone he didn’t recognise. Without much thought he opened the text.

[Hi, you may not know me but we go to the same lecture on Wednesday at 1 PM. I heard you have neat notes and wanted to ask if it wouldn’t be a problem if you send me today’s ones. I  got sick and couldn’t come and I wouldn’t want to fall behind with the material. Thanks!]

Geez, was there a longer way to type it? Couldn’t you just write: can you give me notes? On the other hand he always complained about people being douchebags.

Clicking onto your profile Katsuki saw a cheesy photo and a few posts from your daily life and vacations. Nothing much to be honest. Yet, he could vaguely remember your face around the people who entered the lecture hall. It won’t hurt to help.

[Sure]

[File attached]

Pushing his phone to the far end of his desk he went back to work. A few minutes later there was another quiet ding and this time Katsuki felt irritation bubbling inside him. It was you once again.

[Thank you so much!]

[I owe you]

[If you ever need anything feel free to write]

Whatever.

It only took a week for Katsuki to be indeed looking for help from someone. Once in a while, during his hero training, he was forced to pair up with someone in order to work on his rescue skills. Usually they’d use dummies but some fucktard in the course planning team decided that it would be most helpful if the students could train with a real human.

Normally Katsuki would ask Mina. He’d swallow his pride and force himself to listen to her babbling for two hours. Just to get it done. Unfortunately, Mina dumped him today, leaving only a [sorry, not feeling well, find someone else]. Damned flu season.

Who was he supposed to ask now, Denki?

As he scrolled down his chats, your profile pic flew by making Katsuki halt.

If you ever need anything feel free to write.

Screw it, you said it yourself, might as well find a person already and move on with his day. He typed a quick explanation and pushed the send button. The day was nearing the afternoon when you responded.

[Sure, if it’s two hours I can make it. Send me when and where I should be]

He shrugged and gave you the address for today's training.

In the early evening Katsuki found himself trotting towards his usual fighting ground absentmindedly. He was thinking about something related to work at Miruko’s when the idea flew out of his head. You were there, he could see you from afar, walking in circles in front of the main door.

Were you an idiot? It was the middle of winter and the early evening cold tore through layers of warm coats to sink into your bones. Why weren’t you entering the building to warm up a bit.

That’s why Katsuki is so stubborn about the whole love at first sight thing. It certainly wasn’t that exact moment when his heart skipped a beat because of you. You were shivering, hiding your chin and red tinted cheeks deeper into the collar of your winter coat. When you spotted him you reached out a gloved hand and waved.

“What the fuck are you doing outside, get in there or you’ll catch another cold.” He persisted, ushering you towards the entrance.

“Wow, good evening to you too.” You looked at him from under your woollen hat, surprised to get yelled at first thing you see him. Though, you did hear the upcoming pro-hero Dynamite, who went to the same lecture as you, was rather intense. “I don’t know, this place just looks fancy. Didn’t want to stand inside like a dumbass not knowing where to go.”

“So you stood outside like a dumbass not knowing where to go.”

“Exactly.”

He let you in and showed you around. After leaving your coat and getting a warm tea (his idea), you were ready to help with his training. The support students and university staff running around asked you to take off any unnecessary piece of clothing such as jewellery or sweaters that could get in the way. You gladly went through with their instructions.

You b-lined another student, a senior support course, who showed you the place where you’d be waiting to be rescued. The spacious arena was moulded into the shape of a city. Some buildings were fine, others rundown as if a villain attack rolled over them. There were paveways and roads, streetlamps and plastic trees. You even spotted a car, though it didn’t look like it could take off anytime soon. 

“It will look the same over and over. You sit or lie down in the place where I leave you and wait for your hero.” Your guide briefed the rules. “And every time pick out a different scenario and tie the band in the place that is put on it.” He handed you a dozen of ribbons with small notes attached to them. The first one you grabbed read: broken arm (tie around elbow).

“Sure.” You nodded your head and he left you on the second floor of a wannabe office building. There were a few chairs scattered around and a table that had a weird bite mark on it. You obediently wrapped the band around your arm and sat down on the floor, waiting.

You wondered how it’ll be, to get fake rescued. You were never in such a situation, always watching the villains from the comfort of your TV rather than first hand. What was Dynamite’s quirk? Suddenly you felt stupid for not knowing. On the other hand, you were never up to date with new heroes and all the popularity polls or colourful magazines. Guess you’d just have to wait and see.

Katsuki didn’t leave you for long. You were counting the pieces of shattered glass beneath your feet when a series of explosions passed beside the building. The small pieces you were meticulously adding shook and you let out a squeak when something heavy hit the wall behind you.

“Shut up, it's me.” Craning your neck, you saw Dynamite’s face, upside down, looking at you. He was halfway through the window. “What have you got?”

“God, you scared me.” You chuckled but quickly shut your mouth. The guide asked you to play the best victim you can. Victims shouldn’t laugh.

Dynamite hopped in front of you and crouched to read the note attached to your elbow. He mumbled something in the lines of fucking scenario and looked you straight in the eye.

“I’m gonna get you out of here.”

There wasn’t anything dramatic going on, it was even quiet outside save for a few shouts here and there. Yet, there was just something in a bulked man looking at you and promising you protection, one secured by his own arms. You felt like the guy from the firefighters video.

You couldn’t stop the giggle at the thought.

“What the fuck are you laughing at?” Dynamite spat.

“Nothing, nothing.” You shook your hands in front of your still laughing face. “Oh shit, this one’s supposed to be broken. Okay, just save me already.” You really fought with the snicker but the cheesiness and awkwardness of the whole situation had you in a chokehold.

“Whatever.” The hero sighed, visibly annoyed, and scooped you into his hands like a sack of potatoes. “I’ll need you to wrap your legs around me. Push the broken arm into my chest and use your healthy one to hold onto me.”

You did as instructed and glued yourself to him as tight as you could. He still held you with one of his arms and just when you started to wonder how the two of you would get down from the second floor he jumped out of the window.

A scream escaped your lips but it was muffled by a loud explosion.

For the next two hours you flew through the air in Dynamite’s hands over and over again. He held you in different ways, depending on your supposed injury, but every time you landed into the safe zone, you realised you were the first or nearly the first. That guy was quick like hell.

The last scenario rolled over and it was a panic attack. You were supposed to be physically fine but otherwise unresponsive and difficult to work with due to your shock. Dynamite tried to take extra steps to calm you down, speaking about how he’ll take you to safety and how it will all be over in a second. It looked like he was having a hard time.

“I need to touch you to take you somewhere safe.” He said, wrapping one of his hands around you.

When you were both at the safe zone, with cardboard paramedics to take care of you, Dynamite did something different. Instead of leaving you in the place where the group of injured would grow, he carried you straight to the ambulance.

“She has a panic attack.” He said to the empty fake vehicle and you just couldn’t take any more of it. You erupted in a fit of laughter. Your body shook in his hands and you gripped the X on his uniform to steady yourself. “What the fuck?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” You tried to explain but the laughter squeezed your throat. “I’m a shitty actor.”

“I see that.” Dynamite grumbled.

“Do you really need to talk to cardboard people and empty vehicles for two hours every week?” You asked, wiping a tear from your cheek.

“Is it really that fucking funny?”

“No, no! I get it.” You finally calmed down, letting go of the front of his costume. “It’s not that funny, maybe a bit but not that much. I think I’m just in a good mood.” You shrug your shoulders. “It was fun, flying with you, like a free rollercoaster ride.” You gave him a big, big smile. A big genuine smile. A big, genuine, lovely smile, with your eyes closed and teeth out and cheeks tinted pink.

People are stupid. That’s what Katsuki thinks. It’s not love at first sight. It’s love because of a single sight.

Even though Katsuki came to some fundamental conclusions in the topic of love he would get all defensive and intense when he was asked about how the two of you met. It would sound way better if he could say the two of you met, then started to talk more, then went on a date and agreed to meet each other and so on. He just felt so stupid, so awkward and silly when he had to admit that all it took for you was a single smile to make his heart skip a beat.

The worst part? It felt a little pathetic honestly, as if people never smiled at him, but truthly they didn’t, not like that. Not like you.

Katsuki still doesn’t believe in love at first sight. Yet, every other piece of his meticulously calculated equation of love was torn down and rewritten, all of which he gladly took.

[josephquinncurl]

I hope people aren't bothering him at all, so far we have gotten so few fan pics and that's good. He looks so happy and relaxed like more calm? And he's a sweetheart I just hope that he can enjoy Italy without too many interruptions. Even if fans are nice and kind and talk with him he maybe wants to be unnoticed. Let's hope since things in general are more calm too he gets to enjoy his traveling and meet only nice respectful fans.

[moonstruckme]

Hi lovie!!! I was stalking your blog as usual (hehe) when I came across a requests from your 6k celebration of a visually impaired!reader. I was always too shy to ask something like this but i'm glad someone did! )i'm not sure if you remember)

If you feel comfortable can you please write some comfort with the marauders and a vitally impaired reader who doesn't feel like she's enough? I kinda feel useless when it comes to performing daily tasks normally because neither can I use the walking stick or. classify as a person with enough vision to be independent. Sorry for the rambling but please feel free to ignore this request if it's not your thing! all the love <333

Thank you for requesting lovely! I always get nervous about writing about groups I don’t represent, so if anything here is inaccurate or offensive at all please do let me know! I did research but there are some things too specific for the internet to have much about and I’m always looking to grow <3

poly!marauders x visually impaired!reader ♡ 958 words

When Sirius’ phone rings, James knows it’s you because he rolls over on the bed, a giant, lovesick grin spreading across his face. 

“Hello, gorgeous,” he says upon picking up. Remus rolls his eyes at his sultry tone, and Sirius kicks him lightly. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” 

James is close enough that he can hear the sound of your voice on the other line, sweet and asking, but he can’t make out what you’re saying. 

“No, yeah, that sounds hazardous.” Sirius’ tone remains casual, but he rolls onto his back again, starting to get up. “Stay where you are, dollface, help is on the way. Yeah, the other boys are up too—wait, did you only call me because you thought I’d be the only one awake?” 

Remus snatches the phone from him. “Where are you, love?”

Sirius sulks. James gives his shoulder a few solid pats. 

It’s a good thing Remus is the one to talk to you, because the other two would have no clue the coffee shop you were talking about. It’s only a few blocks from your apartment, James notes, and you’re standing outside with your back against the wall. The interior is dark. 

“Hi, lovie!” he calls when they’re close enough. “It’s James.” 

Your head turns toward them, a little smile taking you. “Hey. Sorry to bother you guys.” 

“We were all up,” Remus says, “and we wouldn’t want you walking home by yourself this late regardless.” 

“What he means to say,” says Sirius, touching the back of your wrist, your signal that he wants to kiss you. You tilt your face up agreeably, and he plants one on your lips, “is that you could never bother us, sweet thing.” 

Your smile goes a bit bashful, chin tucking towards your chest. “I can usually navigate my way here just fine—it’s so close to my place—but I didn’t realize it had gotten so dark.” 

“Say no more.” James bumps your elbow lightly with his, offering it to you. “Since we’re here, do you want to come back to our place, or would you rather stay at home?” 

Your fingers are cool and gentle as they wrap around the crook of his arm. “If you don’t mind me sleeping at yours…” 

Sirius makes an incredulous scoffing noise. “As if we would mind.” 

“Thanks.” Your voice is quiet, a tad more subdued than usual. James takes it for fatigue. 

“Have you had a chance to eat?” Remus asks. He slips his arm around Sirius’ shoulders as he walks. The other boy looks happy as a clam. 

“No, not yet.” 

“I’ll make you something,” he offers. “Anything you’re craving? We’ve just been to the grocery.” 

“I’m alright with anything.” Still that muted tone to your voice. James looks at you curiously. After a few moments, you say again, “I'm really sorry about this.” 

“Angel, you don’t have to keep apologizing,” he says. “What’s there to be sorry for? The sun went down, you can’t help it.” 

But your expression is somber, your lips downturnt. “You had to come over here to walk me home, and now you’re making me dinner, too. I just feel…I don’t know, I guess I feel sort of useless. I need someone to do everything for me.” 

“Dove, what?” Remus looks over at you, brow furrowed. “We do more for Sirius than we do for you.” 

You look surprised and Sirius offended, but James chimes in, “It’s true. You know how much maintenance he takes. He wouldn’t set a foot out of bed in the morning if one of us didn’t make him.” 

“I think the more important point is,” Sirius interjects loudly, “that we don’t have to do things for you so much as we get to, gorgeous. Like, you could probably sort your own dinner if you needed to, but Rem and Jamie would each rather saw off their pinkie toes than let either of us cook for ourselves.” 

“I think you’d just rather I do that than you cook,” Remus mutters. 

“And as for walking you home,” Sirius blazes on, “do we seem anything less than completely stoked to be here? Because if so, please let me know. I’m clearly not doing well enough at expressing myself.” 

“Of course you’ve been great.” You tuck yourself closer to James’ side, stepping over a curb when he murmurs a warning. “You always are.” 

“We’re not just being kind, dove,” Remus says gently. “It doesn’t take much to do things for you, because we like doing them. It’s never a bother.” 

“You take care of us, too,” James reminds you. “You always listen, and you’re really good at massaging Remus’ knee when it hurts him. You’re the only one of us who the cat that comes to our back door will let touch it.” You smile, and he sets his hand atop yours, squeezing fondly. 

“It’s easy when it’s someone you care about,” says Remus, “yeah?” 

All three of them, even Sirius, let the question hang until you’re forced to answer. After a few moments, you sigh, resignation covered with a healthy coating of gratitude. 

“Yeah,” you admit. “I guess so.” 

“It has to be,” James jokes, “or Sirius wouldn’t have had a meal for years now.” 

“Alright, alright.” Sirius steps out from under Remus’ arm, walking backward so he can gesture as he talks. “I’ll have you know, you’re not so easy to live with either! You’ve not gotten any tidier since we were thirteen, and half the time I come into the kitchen after you’re done doing your saintly work for me to find the whole place smoldering—” 

“See, dovey,” Remus leans close to murmur, “how could you be any trouble when we’re already head over heels for this?’

[teojira]

[Dance with The Devil] [movie!Shadow x reader headcanons]

Summary: a collection of random headcanons/small scenarios based on my "Click Click Boom" post for Shadow!

Word count: 1.5k

Disclaimer (1): Harkness scale people, he is of age and can consent and is sentient. I'm allowed to want to kiss the hedgehog.

Disclaimer (2): This can be read as Romantic or Platonic! Though I did write it to be implied romance.

A/N: Yall asked for more, who am I to deny the people (I imagine kissing him every second of the day). I tried to hit a lot of asks all in one to give eveyrone what they asked for! I hope y'all enjoy! Reblogs and comments are super appreciated and motivate me to write more <3

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Shadow is so extremely overprotective of you, borderline to an unhealthy agree but is it really when you're welcoming to it??

You, by all means, shouldn't encourage him. He's one of the strongest beings on the planet. He can't just make threats, God knows if he'll act out on them.

You can't help but let it happen though, a warm fuzzy feeling deep in your chest clouds your judgment for a few moments. Knowing that Shadow sees you as someone worth protecting, of caring for.

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Shadow baring his fangs at Sonic and fucking growling is new though.

"Shadow did you just- did you just fucking growl?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Sonic was just trying to hug me dude, relax.'

"He'll get his scent all over you. No."

Shadow turns his back on you, so he misses the blush that overtakes your entire face.

He has an inkling though, if the strangled cry from your throat is any indication.

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Riding ! With ! Him !!! He takes you on drives all the time, it helps him clear his head and it's his way of asking for physical contact without giving you idea, feeling you against his back and your body pressed up against his does wonder for his mental health, he'll purposefully take longer routes and side roads at night to keep you close.

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If you fall asleep on the couch, Shadow isn't gonna curl up with you, but he's next to the couch, head propped up against the arm rest as he watches over you. He's well aware he could just teleport you both to your room, but you look too peaceful :( and he knows he takes up all your time and energy, so he rather let you rest.

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Shadow always walks behind you. It's a nervous habit. If he wanders behind, he has the perfect view to scan for threats.

You go to tell him he's being paranoid, but stop yourself. The last person he cared for died, the girl who gave him a purpose. You shut your joke down fast, shaking your head when Shadow raises an eye bridge at your expression.

"Do you want to hold my hand?" You go with that instead.

"Absolutely not."

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Please god can you imagine shopping for him, getting his leather jackets and what not bc he fucking deserves it, especially when you nervously claim that he needs the correct gear for riding his motorcycle and he hits you with:

"That's useless, I can easily chaos control if need be."

BUT HE DOESN'T RIDE WITHOUT IT EVER !!!! You even got it monogrammed, and he runs his thumb across it often, scoffing at himself when he realizes, snatching his hand away.

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Shadow likes to be useful, even though you tell him again and again that he doesn't owe you anything, he doesn't listen.

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If you wear makeup and ever fall asleep in it, you can't ever seem to remember if it was you who took it off, your memories jumbling up together to the point you're not sure.

It was Shadow, he knows you don't like showing others your bare face, which he thinks is ridiculous as shit, he likes you as you are, whether with makeup or bare, you're you.

Please I could cry imagining him so gently taking a makeup wipe and rubbing small circles to get that waterproof eyeliner off of you, eyes laser focused into his task. I'm gonna throw up.

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In the colder months, he's susceptible to being more mellow and relaxed. Despite being the ultimate life form and having fur, he still gets cold and hates the feeling.

This brings me to the fact that bro steals your blankets, he has no remorse and will walk right into your room to take your heated blanket. He's an asshole.

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Fully believes that nicknames are stupid and that they don't matter, the best he's gonna do for you is call you by your first Intial (ex: Teddy = T) It's rare that he'll do call you by it regardless, but beggers cannot be choosers.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Getting matching bangles to match his inhibitor rings!! Makes him go stupid for a second, brain computing that oh??? You want to match him?? He's gonna tease you, but when you threaten to just take them off, he immediately goes quiet.

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The subject of being sick came up often in asks, and he struggles really hard with it. It's not obvious, but if you look closely, his quills are pin straight, and he's easily more agitated.

He's not mad at you, it's not your fault, it's just that seeing you curl up into bed brings back so many bad memories of when Maria has flare ups and couldn't leave her bed.

It made him feel useless. His whole reason for being was to help cure illness, maybe not the common cold. He's aware of that, but the point remains.

Shadow gets more docile, even going to ask Maddie what to do. The woman offers to come over and take care of you instead, but Shadow shuts her down quickly. He's more than capable, and he's a little overprotective.

"Are you sure? I don't mind, I don't have anything going on."

"That isn't necessary."

"But it might be better if it's m-"

"I can take care of them."

It's hard to argue with a 5ft hedgehog that can easily snap your neck, so she regents and hands him over some cold and flu medicine along with painkillers and vaporub and instructions. He looks so silly with all of it in his arms, Gatorade, water, the medicine, some food, but it warms your heart. You haven't had anyone really look after you when you were sick, always left to fend for yourself, so it's nice.

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For my period havers, I am on mine, so this made it in:

Shadow using his hands as personal heating pads for your stomach or the small of your back, you can't seem to remember where you put your heating pad so he sits there with you and just, shoves his hand onto your skin, it's added comfort due to his fur.

"Oh my god, that feels good."

You groan into your pillow, curling up into a ball, your back facing the ultimate lifeform.

"Is it really that bad?"

Shadow hums, moving to ever so slightly knead the skin, smirking to himself when you damn near moan at the feeling.

"You know damn fucking well it's that bad."

Shadow snorts.

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Once you're both closer, he allows you to touch him alot more, so long as you ask him first if you can run your fingers over his quills, he finds it soothing, it's common to find you both on the couch, fast asleep together with the TV set to come true crime YouTube video.

Sonic takes a million pictures, to which he sends to Shadow later. The black hedgehog doesn't say anything, but he secretly saves each one.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Speaking of the others, you try and force him to spend time with team Sonic to varying degrees of success. Mainly the success being if you will also be there and be by his side. The team likes you well enough, always playfully telling you that they can handle Shadow if he ever hurts you.

Which gets them Shadow staring them down, his eyes lighting up as a warning.

You'd think they'd learn that this man doesn't play when it comes to you, but they're a bit stupid.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

When it comes to any insecurities you may have, he shuts that shit down IMMEDIATELY, you think it's because he genuinely doesn't give a fuck, but no, it's because he cares about you and will logically tell you facts. Does it help? It's varying, but he still tries.

Issue with your weight. He doesn't care. Are you healthy? That's all that matters. He's strong enough to lift you up, and he'll demonstrate it on you if need be. He doesn't know who put it into your head that there's any issue with it, but he'll fix it.

"Shadow, can I ask you something?"

"Go on."

"Does my weight ever bother you?"

"I am not like human men."

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You're insecure about talking about your interests/hyperfixations? He actively will sit down and listen, eyes intense as he takes in every single word you're saying. He'll nod and hum, but his ears are flicked towards you, and Shadow will ask questions pertaining about the characters.

The motherfucker is healing you slowly but surely, mentally and sometimes physically.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

No one thinks that Shadow would be a good companion and will make jokes offhandily that they're sorry that YOU'RE stuck with him, and you don't correct them. They don't deserve to know him.

They don't get to know how the lifeform curls up next to you on his bad days, seeking your affection.

The hedgehog who helps you dry the dishes after every meal with a way too focused look on his face.

The Shadow that always cracks dry ass jokes in hopes to make you smile after a long day.

It's your little secret, and it's one you gladly keep to yourself.

"Oh, he's stuck with me." You wave them off with a smug smirk on your face.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

[nariism]

wriothesley isn't one for grand displays of affection, whether it be through his actions or his words.

to the public eye, the two of you are nothing more than co-workers who take their lunch break at the same time. two people who have something to discuss at 3:00 pm every day (which is coincidentally the time for his tea break, as many have pointed out).

you're the first one at his door with piles of paperwork when the morning shift starts. you're the last one out of his office at the end of the day.

to the rest of the fortress, your relationship is superficial—a rumour passed on from old inmates to new ones that the warden and his assistant are secretly married.

it's always laughed off the same way: why would they ever have a reason to keep that a secret?

it's become a sort of inside joke between the two of you since the silly rumour started floating around.

"i overheard some people in the cafeteria talking about us again."

"did you say anything to them?"

you smile, placing down two boxes of welfare meals on the desk. "why would i? it's more fun to let them believe what they want."

"it doesn't bother you?" wriothesley watches you from the corner of his eye as you open them, grimacing at your meal and your bad luck.

"not really," you say, looking at him curiously. "does it bother you?"

he snorts, uncrossing his arms so he can gather you into his arms for the first time since you dropped off papers in the morning.

"nah," he hums, burying his face into the crook of your neck—the place where he seeks solace first when holding you.

"you're crushing me," you laugh, allowing him to press you into the desk with his arms squeezing you terribly tight. you wheeze dramatically and he pulls away with a grumble.

"come on, let me have this. i haven't seen you since your shift started."

"that was only a few hours ago..."

he pouts. "so you didn't miss me?"

"i didn't say that." you pinch his nose and he engulfs you again under his weight, scooping you closer to him with his arms around your waist this time.

"imagine if one of your guards saw us like this. what would happen to this grand mystery surrounding our relationship?" you sigh, hopping up onto the desk while he slots himself comfortably between your legs.

wriothesley can only chuckle. "then you would owe me three hundred coupons."

"seriously? you still remember that bet?" it was made ages ago, after all. a wager that no one would find out the truth before the end of the year.

"aw, don't be such a poor sport. three hundred coupons is nothing. need i remind you that you're married to the warden?"

"no," you breathe, holding him by the cheeks so you can press your lips to the corner of his mouth. "i don't know where you heard that false rumour, by the way. did an inmate tell you?"

your teasing makes him roll his eyes. he tackles you into a hug again. "oh hush already."

turns out that some rumours really are true.

© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms

[deanwinchestergf]

and why would an angel rescue me from hell? good things do happen dean. not in my experience. i'm not here to perch on your shoulder. i was getting too close to the humans in my charge. you. to everything there is a season. you made an exception for me. you're different. for what's worth, i would give anything not to have you do this. i learned my lesson while i was away, dean. i serve heaven, i don't serve men and i certainly don't serve you. but you guys aren't supposed to be there, you're not in this story. yeah, well, we're making it up as we go. i'm hunted, i rebelled and i did it all, all of it, for you. so what i'm thelma and you're louise and we're just gonna hold hands and sail off this cliff together? i need your help because you're the only one who'll help me. that's a pretty nice timing, cas. we had an appointment. what happened to you cas? you used to be human, or at least like one. but cas, you'll call right? if you get into real trouble? this is cas, guys. he has gone to the mat cut and bleeding for us so many freaking times, don't we owe him the benefit of the doubt at least? it sounds so simple when you say it like that, where were you when i needed to hear it? i was there, where were you? i'm doing this for you, dean. i'm doing this because of you. but we were family once, i would've died for you, i almost did a few times. i've lost lisa, i've lost ben and now i've lost sam. don't make me lose you too. cas, you child, why didn't you listen to me. you used to fight together, bestest of friends, actually. if you remember, then you know you did the best you could at the time. the very touch of you corrupts. when castiel first laid a hand on you in hell he was lost. i'd rather have you, cursed or not. well, i'll go with you. i prayed to you cas, every night. cas, we're getting out of here, we're going home. i mean you kept saying you didn't think it would work, did you not trust me? cas, it's me. we need you, i need you. i won't hurt dean. cause you didn't trust me? you didn't trust me. please, man, i need you here. nobody wants him here more than i do. you gave us an order, castiel, and we gave you our trust. don't lose it over one man. you really believe we three will be enough? we always have been. his true weakness is revealed. you draped yourself with the flag of heaven but ultimately, it was all about saving one human. i'm glad you're here, man. how are you, dean? and then you'll kill the angel, castiel. now that one, that i suspect would hurt something awful. and when you turn, everyone you know, everyone you love, they could be long dead. everyone except me. i'm not gonna send lucifer into battle inside cas, what if he doesn't make it? it's not an it, sam. it's cas. but you're always there, you know? i could go with you. you mean too much to me, to everything. i'm gonna cure you of your human weakness, same way i cured my own. it's a gift, you keep those. you mean we? yes, dumbass, we. we lost everything and now you're gonna bring him back. we got cas back, that's a pretty damn big win. just don't get dead again. it's good to hear your voice. so this is goodbye? but i swear if he did something to her, if she's- then you're dead to me. either get on board or walk away. i don't know what's god and what isn't, and it's driving me crazy. dean, you asked what about all of this is real. we are. you used trust me, give me the benefit of the doubt, now you can barely look at me. i think it's time for me to move on. you didn't deserve that. since when do we get what we deserve? maybe if you didn't just up and leave us. i left but you didn't stop me. i should've stopped you. you're my best friend but i just let you go. and i forgive you, of course i forgive you. i'm sorry it took me so long, i'm sorry it took me til now to say it. you did it cas. okay, cas, i need to say something. you don't have to say it, i heard your prayer. well, here's to being right. you know what every other version of you did after gripping him tight and raising him from perdition? they did what they were told, but not you.

[macsimagines]

Yandere!Mikey w/ a S/O that had his child

ASKBOX IS OPEN

(So for this set of headcanons its for a Mikey thats been consumed by his dark impulses and has probably lost everyone... ALSO PLEASE tell me what you think? I work better when I'm given notes so any complaints or compliments ill take!)

(D/N) - Daughters Name (Y/N) - Your Name

You were supposed to be a one night stand. He wasn't even going to give you the time of day. You were some secretary or pencil pusher and he was making deals (harassing) your boss.

But you catch his eye, and your boss has you entertain him to make things go smoother.

Thankfully, you two hit it off. Mikey can be charming despite his horrible reputation and you've got such beautiful kind eyes...

One thing leads to another and one unforgettable night you two have sex.

Mikey doesn't call you or contact you after that, and you can take the hint that it didn't mean anything more than just a way to relieve stress.

That would be all fine and dandy if it weren't for the fact that you were puking your guts out and happened to be pregnant.

You can't depend on Mikey, you don't think he'll accept your child and you really don't want them involved in the underworld that Mikey controls.

So you move out of Tokyo to distant family in a different town. You get a job, have your wonderful child and live peacefully in a small town.

Four years down the road, you end up back in Tokyo with your daughter. You owed a friend a favor and you're not too worried.

Your Daughter might be Mikey's clone but Tokyo is a big city and he's a busy man. He must have had countless women before he's not going to recognize your face out of a million others. Plus its been years. You should be safe right?

Wrong. You wake up one morning and (D/N) is gone. You're frantic searching for her, so confused where she could have gone from your friends apartment when it hits you: The Park!

Sprinting over there you're met with a sight you never thought you'd see. Mikey holding your fidgeting daughter in his arms.

If not for the terrifying look in his eyes the scene is almost comical.

The two of them together look like a before and after picture because of how similar they are.

"Y/N, you wanna explain this?" he asks you, and you're more shocked he remembered your name than anything else.

You try to pull it together, you don't want to cause a scene in front of your daughter.

"Th-that's my daughter. She ran off this morning and I've been looking for her."

He tilts his head to the side while he looks you up and down, placing your little girl on his hip.

"Don't you mean our daughter?" there's something dark in his voice and down right malevolent in his eyes.

Panic rises in your chest and you look down at the ground. "I just...I wanted her to be safe. I-I didn't think you'd care."

Your sweet Daughter whimpers for you, not understanding who this strange man is or why he's making her mommy so upset.

"You thought I wouldn't acknowledge my own child? Am I that kind of man to you?"

Silence stretches between you before you finally get the courage to say; "How did you even find us?"

Mikey just stares and holds your girl close before answering; "I heard you were in town. I came looking for you, and found her. Guess this is fate."

What you didn't know was that Mikey did want you, he wanted you so bad it almost drove him crazy. He tried to keep his distance and ignore you, and just when he can't take it anymore he finds out you moved away?

That's fine. It wasn't meant to be. But he had eyes and ears out for you if you ever came back to him. If you willingly walked back into the lions den that must mean you want him to have you.

He hears your back, with a daughter, and that's not a problem. If you have a husband he'll make sure you don't anymore and he doesn't mind a brat, you'll give him some of his own and that will make up for it.

So he goes looking for you, and he's almost to the apartments he knows you're staying at when a little girl catches his eyes. For a second he thought he hallucinated a mirror, but no staring up at him is his own face.

In his heart he knows who this girl is. And he's mystified when she starts talking to him.

"How come the sun's so bright?" she asks him for whatever insane reason.

And the empty abyss in his chest is suddenly full of love and affection. She's perfect. He had a perfect daughter now. Mikey embraces and tells her as much. That she's wonderful and beautiful and so loved.

Then you come sprinting towards them and Mikey suddenly remembers you kept her from him.

Back to the present, he thinks if this had been anyone else he would have killed them. But its you. And thankfully you raised the perfect child and gave him a healthy daughter, so he can't be too mad. He'll take it out on some underlings that left out very important details...

"I'll take responsibility," he tell you grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you so you're face to face, "And you will too, Y/N. We're gonna raise a very happy family. And you're going to give me a very big one. Lots of kids." one for every person he's ever lost.

[genericpuff]

I know LO has been over for a while but something that's always confused me is the 10 year punishment thing. (I dropped the comic before the judgment so correct me if im wrong)

apparently Persephone was sentenced to 10 years in the mortal realm. Yet she complains that Zeus keeps extending her punishment but the timeskip only ends up being 10 years? (From 20 yrs old to 30). that makes it sound like she had a shorter sentence that was extended to 10 yrs (what a fuckin slap on the wrist if it was).

Either her punishment was 10 yrs and Perse was just banking on early parole release or she always had a short sentence which ended up being a measly 10 yrs anyway.

But then that would mean Demeter's punishment period was either tied directly to Persephone's or (for some reason) she had a full 10 yr sentence while Persephone got an initial shorter period

If it's not either of those then shouldn't her punishment be longer? 11, 12, 15, 20 yrs instead? Would make more sense that she was mad if she had to serve at least twice as long as she was told to

Ah so actually she wasn't sentenced to 10 years, she was basically sentenced to a perpetual punishment until Zeus felt certain conditions were met, such as her filling all of the responsibilities of Demeter and turning Minthe back to normal.

So the reason it wound up being 10 years was because Zeus kept finding reasons to extend the sentencing, clearly in an attempt to keep her away from Apollo as he was already suspecting that he might use Persephone's fertility goddess powers to overthrow him.

(joke's on Zeus though, he was overthrown with a poison cupcake lmaooo)

That said, Persephone was... really dumb when she failed her 10th inspection. Primarily because she broke one of the rules Zeus put in place for her before he did the inspection-

Like it's really funny in hindsight to read this scene because at the time the narrative was definitely trying to make us believe that Zeus was the bad guy here, and to a point he's definitely fucking around and not actually planning on letting her out of confinement while also doing jack shit to get to the bottom of his own suspicions regarding his son... but also girl, if your plan was to prove to Zeus that you had filled your end of the bargain, then why try and give him the letter prior to your once-a-year inspection? Either you're failed again over some arbitrary made-up bullshit reason so you can use the guilt-trip method after he's already screwed you over, or best case, you pass and you can deliver the letter to Hades yourself! It was a really dumb move on her part to immediately jump to asking him to bend the rules he made for her when she should know Zeus isn't gonna feel obligated to 'owe' her anything, and is completely contrary to her being as "smart and cunning" as the narrative tries to make us believe (remember when she hustled Hades at chess and lied to him about having a driver's license? where's that Persephone?)

And yeah Zeus really isn't wrong when it comes to how Persephone herself is such a "uwu look at me I'm a smol widdle baby girl, please break the terms of my punishment for me because I asked with tented eyebrows bats eyelashes" , this is honestly why so many people like Zeus as a character in LO contrary to how much the narrative tries to make us hate him, because while he's absolutely an asshole who deserves to be knocked down a peg, at least the narrative doesn't try to gaslight us into thinking he's a good person like it does with H x P. Zeus is a shithead but unapologetically authentic; Persephone and Hades both pretend like they're saints on earth (and the narrative tries to sell them to us as such) meanwhile they're constantly picking on lower class people and using their power and influence to get their way even when they haven't earned it.

But also yeah, it's funny how the fans will say "age doesn't matter when you're a god, time doesn't mean anything when you're immortal" to dismiss the massive age gap between Hades and Persephone, but then cry foul over Zeus keeping her in confinement for 10 years which is a pretty bare ass minimum sentence when you really think about it. Like, if the passage of time really is that inconsequential to a god, then how is 10 years even a punishment? It's only suddenly seen as a massively unfair punishment when it's Persephone who's suffering it.

[sophsicle]

Sirius and Remus stare at one another. On either side of the room. Battlefields between them.

Maybe it's been years since they last saw one another.

Maybe it's been minutes.

You can never tell with them.

James watched his friends fall in love before any of them knew what that meant.

He watched them after, when, tragically, they did.

Sirius and Remus have never been able to get comfortable with their relationship. Have never relaxed in one another's beds.

He'll get bored of me, Sirius had said to James once. When the novelty wears off. Everyone does.

I'm too much trouble, Remus a few weeks later. I can't expect him to put up with this forever.

James never knew what to say when they got like that. It's not that Sirius and Remus didn't know that they were loved. Only that they both saw love as something flimsy and delicate and easily broken. As something they would one day lose between the sofa cushions. In the crack between the wall and the bed. In the back of a cab.

Remus coughs, clearing his throat. He looks old. And tired. Nothing like James remembers.

"Listen," Sirius, who looks worse somehow. "Dumbledore told me to lay low here but...you know I can...I can find somewhere else if...I don't want to put you out, is all."

James and Remus both scoff.

Idiot.

"Don't be ridiculous. Of course, you're staying here."

Sirius gives Remus a look, pouting in that way he does. And through the dirt and the years and the ragged clothes, James sees the boy he used to know. Used to wrap himself around until you couldn't tell them apart. Until you swore they wore one skin. Shared one beating heart.

"You don't owe me anything," Sirius says stubbornly.

Remus gives him an empty smile. "Don't worry. I know."

Sirius screws up his face. "I'm not staying if we're just gonna snap at one another the whole time. I -" he sighs, running a hand over his face. "I'm too tired to fight Moony."

The nickname makes Remus flinch. "Too tired to fight? Sirius Black? Never."

Sirius huffs. "That's notorious mass murderer Sirius Black to you, thank you very much."

There's a twinkle in Remus's eye. In Sirius's too.

Go on, James thinks. Go on, cross the Rubicon. Touch each other. Hold each other. I can't anymore. I can't. I can't take care of you anymore. Which breaks his heart. Breaks his heart more than almost everything else. I need you to do it for me. Please.

Remus motions down the hall. "Why don't you take a shower - or a bath - I'll get dinner started."

There's a small pause before Sirius eventually nods his head. The motion jerky. Awkward. "Yeah, alright."

Take care of each other.

For me.

Please.

Please. Please. Please.

"Sirius?" Remus calls to him before he disappears into the bathroom. Sirius turns around, arching his brow.

Please. Please. Please.

Remus hesitates for a moment before stepping forward, before closing the space between them. Sirius's eyes go wide but he doesn't say anything. Doesn't move. When Remus reaches him he holds out his hand, stopping before he touches the other man. The pair looking at one another and nowhere else.

"Can I?"

A rough sound comes out of Sirius's mouth, James thinks it might be a laugh. "Yes. God yes."

Remus is gentle, hand cradling Sirius's face, thumb swiping over his cheek. Sirius trembles, like even this is too much. Too tender. Too loving. After a few seconds Remus leans forward, placing a delicate kiss on Sirius's forehead.

"I've missed you," he murmurs against the other man's skin.

Sirius's eyes flutter closed as he sways into Remus. A second later the pair have their arms around one another. Clinging. Holding.

James smiles. Even if it's a little sad. A little scuffed. A little cracked. He smiles. Hoping they understand now. Hoping they see.

That this love has roots.

{inspired by this song }

[writingforstraykids]

I owe you a kiss - Pt.6

Pairing: Minchan x femReader

Word Count: 5362

Summary: Once you're back home, your husbands try their best to support you, but the circumstances are taking their toll on you. It all goes well until you find out who was the one driving that night...

Warnings/Tags: mention of amnesia, angst, tiny mention of blood, fluff, cuddles, anxious!soft!min, caring!soft!channie, domestic stuff, husband!min, husband!chan

A/N: I know, I know it looks like shit in the beginning but trust the word count, it'll get all good, soft and domestic🖤

PART FIVE | PART SEVEN

Minho slips out of his shoes and stands still for a moment. Chan closes the door and hesitantly slips his hand into Minho's. “Kitten?” he asks quietly but gets no response. “Min, look at me, please.”

Minho does, looking at him with wet eyes, still not saying a word. Chan gently rubs his shoulders before cupping his face and flashing him a small smile. “I know I should be happy,” he finally says. “I know I should be relieved that she's awake and talking. I know I should be happy that we finally got her back. I know I shouldn't still be feeling like shit,” he rambles, and Chan soothingly fondles his cheeks. “But you know how much she hates losing control. You know how scared she gets of change,” he hiccups helplessly, and a few hot tears slip down his cheeks. “Once it'll all settle in, she'll hate me, and I-I can't even blame her because I did-didn't do anything else those p-past two months a-and-.”

“Hey,” Chan says so softly it makes him shut his mouth. “I won't let that happen, baby. It was an accident and there was nothing you could've done,” he says firmly and pulls him in close. “I'm so thankful you're both alive, you know? I don't know-” his voice breaks, and Minho's heart sinks at the sound. “I don't know what I would've done if…,” he stops himself, not daring to put his deepest fear into words. “I get it, Minnie because it would've been a lot easier without the memory loss. I'm terrified of hurting her because I'm not fully feeling well yet. But as long as you won't let go of my hand in all this, I know I'll be okay.”

Minho carefully pulls Chan's hands off his face and intertwines their fingers. “I won't let go,” he says.

“I'll always have your back, okay?” Chan asks timidly, and Minho nods quickly. 

“And I'll have yours,” he promises and squeezes his hands. 

“I could really use a hug,” Chan admits, and Minho doesn't hesitate, pulling him close and kissing his cheek. He gently sways them from side to side and exhales softly. “I love you, Min.”

“I love you too, Channie,” Minho whispers back and squeezes him tightly. 

-

Minho gently helps you out of your jacket and hangs it up for you. Neither Chan nor Minho had remembered that you only moved in here one and a half years ago, so the house was another factor. He watches you glance around the hallway timidly and swallows softly. “Anything familiar?” he asks gently. 

You swallow hard and shake your head. “Not besides…some of the interior,” you tell him. 

He notices how anxious it makes you and carefully slips his hand into yours. “Let me give you a tour, come on.”

You follow him through the house and recognize some bits of your old home. He tells you where to find the most important things, and seems like he's afraid to say anything wrong. It makes you sick seeing your husband try so hard to make you comfortable in a suddenly so unfamiliar place. “I-I'll go use the bathroom real quick,” you tell him, and he nods, telling you again where to find it. 

You close the door and take a deep breath, hugging yourself tightly. “Fuck,” you whisper and sit down heavily at the edge of the bathtub. If you wouldn't know Minho and Chan had been your boyfriends for four years and then husbands for another five you would've freaked out at the hospital. You couldn't remember the past two years of your marriage, but the seven years before are enough to trust them. Still, it all feels so weird. You don't notice how much time has passed until Minho gently knocks at the door and lets himself in. He sits down next to you, and for a moment, you're both quiet. “Minho?” you ask timidly. 

“Yeah?” he asks gently, turning to look at you. 

“Have I been a good wife to you and Chan? Did we have fights? Did I hurt you? Did you hurt me?” you ask, and he inhales deeply. “I know this sounds weird, but…I have no idea where we left off.”

Minho fidgets with his wedding bands and hums thoughtfully. “I can't remember anything big concerning the two of us, we usually get along very well,” he tells you, a small smile on his lips. “We were on a date before the accident. I was very tired, was fighting with Chan over the phone, and…you said you'd take me out for dinner. You were trying to cheer me up, and you did, you always do,” he says and gently clears his throat, pushing away the images of what happened after. 

“What about Chan?” you ask timidly, sensing something off. 

Minho straightens up and pinches his nose, trying to figure out where to start. “About…six months ago, Channie wasn't feeling very well. He was overwhelmed with work and had no resources left for either of us, including himself. He pushed us both away, and one night, when I was abroad, he called me, saying he got into a fight with you and something was seriously wrong,” he tells you and chews on his lower lip. “I called you, asking you to go back and check on him as I flew back home. Chan was feeling numb for quite some time, and we did our best to support him figure out ways to make him feel again. After a while, he decided to visit his family in Australia, take a break, and everything. I stepped in for him at work, and it was killing me,” he admits. “I missed him like hell. I had to lead our team, and I felt lost without him, but you never gave up on me,” he says and his hand subconsciously slips into yours. “He caught me on a bad day, we got into an argument, and well…then we had that accident. Channie got onto the next plane and came back home as fast as he could.”

“Is he still struggling?” you ask hesitantly, and Minho smiles weakly. 

“I don't know, Y/nnie. This whole thing has taken a huge toll on me. I broke down repeatedly and Chan took care of me as best as he could. He even got me a therapist, imagine that,” he laughs, and you can tell he's not really doing well with any of this. “I don't think he had much time to figure out how he truly feels. I should've been there for him more, but I…I could barely get myself out of bed sometimes.”

“I'm sorry,” you apologize timidly, squeezing his hand. “I'm so sorry, Min.”

Minho shakes his head firmly. “None of this is your fault,” he says and searches your eyes. “None of it, okay?”

“Okay,” you nod hesitantly. 

Minho inhales shakily, a suspicious shimmer covering his eyes. “I know this whole memory thing is shit, honey. I feel selfish for saying this, but I'm just so glad you're alive and back home.”

You smile weakly and squeeze his hand firmly. “As long as I have you two, I'll be okay sooner or later.”

Minho gently squeezes back and looks up as Chan steps into the doorframe. “Oh my, am I interrupting something?” he chuckles. 

“Hey, Channie love,” Minho says softly and Chan leans down to give him a kiss. 

“Hey, kitten,” he smiles, gently caressing his cheek. Chan turns to you and gently brushes back your hair, kissing your head, unsure if you feel like kissing. “You're okay?”

“More or less,” you nod, and he sits down on your other side. 

“We're always here if you need someone,” he tells you and gently pats your knee. 

“Thanks,” you nod tiredly. “I really appreciate it, this can't be easy for you either.”

Minho remains quiet this time and glances at Chan. “We're just glad to have you back. The rest we can figure out together,” he assures you. “Just let us know, okay?”

“Okay,” you nod gently. 

-

You turn onto your side heavily and are met with a sight that used to bring a smile to your face. Minho's asleep next to you, his hair hanging into his face, lips parted, and his bunny teeth showing a little. His lashes throw their shadows on his cheekbones and you once more notice how beautiful he is. You've been home for a week now and Minho took another two months off to keep an eye on you. You like being home with Min because he's there when you need him but lets you be when you don't. He doesn't push, he doesn't talk your ears off, and he tries his best not to handle you like you're made out of glass. Still, you can tell he doesn't see you when he looks at you. He doesn't see his wife. He sees the accident and the woman he lost due to the memory loss, and the guilt in his eyes suffocates you sometimes. 

You haven't dared look up the accident yet, but slowly, you can't fight the urge to see what really happened that night. Minho doesn't like talking about it, and Chan wasn't there. 

You slip out of bed and grab your phone, leaving your husband on his own. Locking yourself in the bathroom, you start researching and soon find article over article. Pictures of the crashed car send shivers down your spine. Investigating some further you can tell how worried your friends were about Minho during their interviews, who looks nothing but truly exhausted. You can tell he hasn't been sleeping much; his eyes look glassy in most of them, and Chan never leaves his side.

-

Minho looks up as you come downstairs to join him for breakfast and gets up, putting some waffles on your plate. “Thought you'd like something sweet,” he says and flashes you a smile. 

“Who was driving?” you ask, making him freeze for a second. 

“What do you mean?” he asks, but the slight tremble in his voice tells you he knows exactly what you mean. 

“The accident. Who was driving?” you ask again, stopping in front of the table. 

Minho carefully puts the plate down in front of you. “Does it matter?” he asks timidly. 

“It does,” you nod, tilting your head at him. “Will you be honest with me, or do I have to ask someone else?”

He stares at you, wondering what you're aiming at with that question, but gives himself a push. “I was.”

“Were you drunk?” you ask, and Minho's frown deepens. 

“No.”

“You said you were tired, was that it? Was that what made you miss something?” you ask, and he subconsciously takes a step back. “Were you so upset about Chan that you weren't paying attention?” 

“Y/nnie,” he pleads quietly. “Don’t do this.”

“Min,” you say firmly. “I can't remember the past two years of my life. I don't know what happened and no one can tell me because that'll only be your version of every day,” you say and take a shuddery breath. “Chan hasn't kissed me once since I'm back home, and you look at me like I'm something broken you're too attached to to get rid of. That hurts, Min. I just want my fucking life back!”

Minho raises his hands in defense and steps closer to you. “Honey, I'm sorry, you're right. I can't make up for all that time. But she said they'd come back to you in a few months, at least that the chance is very, very high,” he tries, but the way your eyes darken, he knows you don't want to hear any of it. He tries to brace himself for the emotional outburst that's about to happen, but he can't prepare himself for what you say next. 

“No, you really can't make up for it. Not if you're the one causing this whole mess,” you say, noticing the fear flickering in his eyes, but you don't care. “You were the one driving, you're the one feeling guilty, and now I know why. My whole life went to shit because of you!” you snap at him. Minho doesn't say anything, simply stares at you as your words sink in. His body trembles, his stomach tightening painfully, and his eyes filling with tears. “You fucked everything up, and you're trying so hard to make up for it by staying home with me. Now I know why you so desperately try to make me feel better, and I thought it was because you loved me!”

Minho looks at you as if you just hit him right in the face. A soft whimper leaves his lips, snapping you out of your rage, before tears start running down his face, and his body shakes with a sob. “I know, okay?!” he snaps right back at you. “I know it's all my fault! I-I know I fucked up, and I-I'm the one to b-blame,” he hiccups helplessly, taking a few steps back as you reach for him timidly. “I'm sorry, Y/nnie, I swear, I did-didn't want this.”

“Min,” you whisper guiltily, but your husband shakes his head firmly, biting back a sob. “I'm so sorry, darling, I didn't mean it.”

“Don't lie,” he says, voice cracking. 

“I'm sorry, please,” you try, but Minho pushes past you and goes back upstairs. You let him, knowing he can't handle you, seeing how badly you just hurt him. Helplessly, you grab your phone and call Chan. 

“Hey, baby girl, I'm on my way home. Is everything-.”

“Channie,” you whimper. 

“What's wrong, baby?” he asks worriedly, putting you on speaker. 

“I hurt Min,” you tell him, hugging yourself tightly and sitting down on the sofa. 

“Hurt him how?” he asks nervously, taking a turn left. 

“I said some dumb stuff about him being responsible for my life turning to shit and that the accident was his fault,” you say, and it's quiet for a moment. “Chan?”

“Ynnie…please tell me you didn't,” Chan says lowly, heart sinking to his stomach. “Please tell me you didn't.”

“I'm sorry, Channie, I didn't mean it,” you whisper timidly. “I was just…I don't know what got into me.”

“I…fuck, okay, I'll be home in a bit,” he tells you, swallowing down the lump forming in his throat. 

“Thank you,” you sniffle. 

Chan stares at his phone as you end the call and slams his hand on the wheel. “Fucks sake Ynnie, not when I finally convinced him otherwise,” he curses and finally reaches your street. “Shit, shit, shit.”

Chan quietly pulls the front door closed behind himself and swallows hard as he meets your anxious eyes. “Where is he?” he asks. 

“Upstairs,” you tell him. “Channie, I'm sorry,” you tell him, tears filling your eyes. “I'm so sorry.”

Chan sighs softly and opens his arms for you, pulling you into a tight hug as you get up. “I know you are. I know you're struggling, and I know we can't take that pain away,” he says, soothingly rubbing your back. “But baby girl, you can't forget Minho is a victim here too. He might have been the one driving, but he's also the one who saw you unconscious, covered in blood, and not knowing if you'd ever wake up again,” he tells you gently, without sounding like he's blaming you even a little. “He still feels guilty because he'd rather be the one getting hurt. He's been having nightmares and panic attacks and had a really hard time believing that it isn't his fault, you know?”

“I just fucked that up, didn't I?” you ask timidly. 

“I don't know,” he answers honestly. 

“I asked him if he was drunk,” you admit shamefully. 

Chan bites back a sigh, trying to be patient with you. “Okay, come on,” he says and pulls you to the sofa. “The police provided us the security camera footage, where you very clearly see who's at fault,” he says and grabs his phone, showing you the clip. 

You can see your car pulling up at the crossroads. Suddenly, a car races down the street from the right and crashes right into your side. It's raining heavily, making the road slippery and causing both cars to slide to the side a few meters. Once the video is over, you look at Chan horrified. 

“That other driver was drunk,” he tells you gently. “He was speeding, ignored a red light, and honestly, looking at this, it's a miracle you two are still alive. So please, don't blame anyone else but that guy, hm?” 

You nod quickly and chew on your lower lip anxiously. “Channie angel?”

“Yeah?” he asks gently. 

“Can you tell him I'm sorry? I don't think he wants to see me right now,” you say timidly. 

Chan nods and kisses your temple. “I will. We'll fix this, okay?”

“Okay,” you nod, relieved. 

“I'll go check on him, alright?” he asks, and you nod bravely. Chan grabs a blanket and wraps you up in it, flashing you an encouraging smile. “We'll be okay.”

You timidly grab his hand and search his eyes. “I love you.”

Chan's face softens. “I love you too, baby girl.” 

-

Chan opens the door to the room he uses to work from home, suspecting that's where he'll find Minho. His heart breaks a little as he sees him sitting on the small sofa there, his legs hugged up to his chest. Minho's wearing a sweater of his, burying his face in its sleeves as he takes shaky breaths, clearly trying to calm down. He silently closes the door and walks over, kneeling down in front of him and soothingly rubbing his thighs. “Bunny?” he asks so softly Minho looks up with wide, teary eyes. It's a term reserved for their most private, intimate moments and it never fails to make Minho feel so safe and loved. 

He doesn't say anything, body moving on its own as he slips from the sofa and crawls right into his lap. Chan welcomes him with one of his most loving and healing hugs, nuzzling his nose into his hair. 

“I love you,” Chan whispers, cradling his head. Minho slumps against him, burying himself into his arms as deeply as he can, growing so small it breaks Chan's heart. 

“I'm so tired, Chan,” Minho says, voice raspy from crying. “I'm so fucking tired.”

“I know,” Chan says and turns with him in his hold, leaning against the sofa. “How can I help?”

“There's nothing you can do,” he answers quietly. “She hates me. I fucked up her life.”

“You really think that?” he asks patiently. 

“Doesn't matter. She does,” he says. 

“Do you?” he asks. “You think you fucked up her life?”

“Apparently, I'm not exactly making it easier,” he answers. “Since I'm the drunken, heartbroken, distracted fuck who got us into that accident.”

Chan mindlessly rubs his lower back. “Apparently…so you don't believe it.”

“I-” Minho grows quiet before pulling back and searching his eyes timidly. “Does that matter if she does?”

“To me, it does,” he nods. “You've been blaming yourself for months, saying the most hurtful shit about yourself…I think you made some progress,” he says calmly. 

“Not really,” he shakes his head. “The minute someone throws it at my face, I agree with them.”

“Bunny, can I tell you something?” he asks, and Minho nods tiredly. “She called me the minute you left, saying she fucked up. She asked me to tell you she's sorry because you probably wouldn't want to see her now.”

Minho's eyes fill with tears. “Really?” he asks timidly, and Chan nods. “I really thought she hated me now.”

Chan gently cups his face and plants a tiny kiss on the tip of his nose. “She doesn't, I promise.” 

Minho messily wipes his cheeks with the sleeves before stopping in his movement and groaning at himself. “Fuck, I completely messed up your sweater.”

“That's okay,” Chan giggles softly. “We can wash it.”

Minho hums and smiles shyly. “Just really needed you close after that,” he tells him. 

“You're so cute,” he smiles happily. “Also-” he gets interrupted by the door opening. The two of them look up and see you standing in the doorframe, shaking with sobs. 

Minho moves before Chan can fully comprehend the sight and wraps you into a tight hug. “Shh, honey, it's okay.”

You hug back tightly and shake your head. “Nothing is okay,” you sob. “I hurt you. Just be-because I can't cope with what's happening.”

“It's okay,” Minho whispers gently, caressing your head. “I promise we're okay.”

You timidly grab his sweater a little tighter and bury yourself into him. “I'm sorry, Min. You didn't fuck up anything,” you hiccup. “I love you so much.”

Minho buries his face in your shoulder and shakes his head. “I know,” he whispers and squeezes you gently. “I love you too, my pretty girl.” 

“I just wanna feel normal again,” you whimper, and Minho's hold on you tightens. 

“Try and give yourself some credit, honey. You went through some shit, and you're still dealing with the aftermath,” he says softly and kisses your hair. “Try being a little more patient with yourself.”

Chan smiles sadly, remembering himself saying something so similar to Minho only weeks ago when they went for a walk. So he did listen. 

Two weeks later

You anxiously meet your reflection in the mirror before staring down at your products on the sink. Chan said he'd take you both out to dinner, and you just wanted to look nice but you had trouble remembering your routines. You talked to your doctor about it, and she told you it's completely normal to get confused easily by those things at the moment. 

Minho walks into the bathroom, buttoning up his shirt, and flashes you a gentle smile. “You're alright, beautiful?” 

“Yeah,” you nod quickly and stare back down at your things. “I…I think I need help,” you tell him, glancing up at him as he fixes his hair. 

“Sure, what do you need?” he asks, not quite picking up on your struggle yet. Minho grabs your concealer and carefully hides the dark patches beneath his eyes. He's still not sleeping well, and it shows. 

“I uh, I forgot what I usually do,” you tell him, waving at the various items displayed at the sink. “Like…did I have some sort of routine? Because if I did it's nonexistent in my brain right now.”

“Oh,” he nods and puts your concealer back down. “Uh, I'm not sure, but I can still help,” he tells you, and you smile relieved. “One second,” he winks at you and leaves the room, coming back with a chair. “Alright, take a seat, honey.”

You giggle softly and do as you're told. Chan joins you, chuckling in confusion as he sees you. “Min's helping me, my brain is letting me down right now.”

“Oh,” he laughs and watches Minho grab some of your things. “Yeah, it's good you asked him and not me.”

“I had a feeling,” you tease him lovingly.

Chan chuckles and turns back to the mirror, adjusting the collar of his shirt. He fixes his hair that frames his face in those beautiful curls you love so much and you can see the frown forming on his face before it’s fully there. It’s beyond you how both of your husbands were this stunningly pretty and still had their trouble believing so, Chan much more than Min. “Channie?” you ask gently, and he hums in response. “You look very handsome.”

Chan meets your eyes through the mirror, face softening. “Thank you, baby girl,” he says with a sweet, shy smile. Minho turns around, taking in the sight of his husband, and hums agreeingly before slapping his bum. Chan snorts and fondly rolls his eyes. “Typical.”

“That’s your own fault wearing those trousers,” he smirks before getting started with helping you. “Who even allowed you to leave the house in those, huh? Surely not me. No one else should be allowed to see how well-.”

“Minho,” Chan whines in protest, blushing heavily. “Shut up, will you?”

Minho smiles softly and then you realize he must’ve noticed Chan’s insecurities getting the better of him as well. “Only because it’s you,” he tells him fondly. “So, I think you started like this,” he tells you. He talks you through it, checking in with you if what he’s doing makes sense, and tries his best to make you satisfied with the result. Only a little later you’re ready to go and thank him happily. “Always, princess,” he assures you kindly. “You need help with your hair as well?”

“No, thank you, darling,” you smile at him. “I’ll be done in a bit.”

“No rush, honey,” he tells you and kisses your cheek before leaving you some space. He joins Chan downstairs, who’s standing at the kitchen island, bent forward on his elbows as he checks his phone. Minho smiles at the sight and steps behind him, wrapping his arms around him. Chan gently intertwines their hands on his stomach and finishes his message to Lix with one hand. “You’re alright, kitten?”

“Yeah,” he nods and nuzzles his face into his neck. “Ah, you put on my favorite cologne,” he smirks, burying his nose deeper into his skin. 

Chan hums, agreeing, and turns off his phone, turning in his hold. He smiles as their eyes meet and gently nudges his nose with his own. “Pretty boy,” he whispers, and Minho blushes softly. “I miss you.”

“Miss me?” Minho frowns gently. “I’m right here, love.”

“No..like,” he leaves the sentence unfinished, gently squeezing Minho’s hips. 

“Oh,” Minho laughs brightly and kisses him sweetly. “I can stop by the company tomorrow, just make sure Sungie and Binnie aren’t around.”

“I think I can arrange that,” Chan chuckles, gently cupping his face.

“Don’t start anything you can’t finish now,” Minho warns him, and Chan rolls his eyes, kissing him lovingly. Minho kisses back sweetly and pulls back soon, knowing Chan could get lost in kissing way too quickly. They really didn’t have time for this now. Not with you coming downstairs any minute, still finding your way back into your marriage. “Channie…is that place you picked in walking distance?” he asks. 

“I figured there’s a chance she doesn’t feel safe to drive yet, so yes,” he nods, and Minho hums, relieved. “Also, you aren’t exactly keen to sit in a car yet, either.”

“Not really,” he chuckles agreeingly. “Thank you, Channie.”

“For what?” he frowns softly.

“For being so considerate and caring,” he smiles, shaking his head as Chan is about to respond. “Don’t you dare say it’s nothing now, I will kick you.”

“Oh,” Chan nods, holding back a laugh. 

“Idiot,” he giggles fondly, poking his side.

“I’m ready,” you interrupt them gently, standing a little away from them.

Chan smiles at you sweetly. “You look beautiful, baby girl,” he tells you, and you mirror his smile. 

“Our beautiful girl,” Minho agrees proudly, taking your hand and pulling you closer. “We should probably leave, right?”

Chan checks his watch. “Yeah, we should.”

You swallow softly and glance at them timidly. “Can I sit in the back?” you ask.

“I thought we could take a walk, it’s close by. If we’re lucky, we can see the stars on our way back home,” he says, watching your eyes brim with tears. “Or we can take the car?” he asks nervously.

“No,” you shake your head and laugh weakly. “I would prefer walking,” you assure him. “Thank you, Channie angel.”

“God, you two sometimes,” he breathes out, squeezing Min’s and your hand. “It’s nothing, really an-ey!” he breaks off in protest as Minho punches his shoulder.

“I told you, it’s not nothing. It means a lot, my love, and we’re very happy to have you,” he says. “Also, be glad I didn’t kick your pretty a-.”

“Okay,” Chan laughs and pulls you both with him. “Enough of this now, you’ll make me get all sappy, let’s go.”

-

You enjoy your first evening out immensely. It makes you feel less like something’s wrong with you. Both Chan and Minho focus mostly on you, making sure you’re alright and comfortable. The many smells and loud noises are overwhelming at first, and they try their best to distract you. Once you allow yourself to relax, things get easier. Dinner is delicious, but what truly makes your evening is the laughter, gentle touches, and the way they make sure you’re part of the conversation. 

On your walk home, you indeed see the stars painting the dark canvas of the night sky. You’re walking between them, holding onto their hands, and feel a lot closer to Chan as well. Minho occasionally points out constellations, sometimes playfully bickering with Chan about the correct name. You find yourself smiling, genuinely smiling, for the first time in a while. You think about your day and suddenly stop in your tracks, leading to your husbands turning in confusion. 

“Y/nnie?” Chan frowns as your eyes fill with tears. “Are you okay?”

“I remember that place,” you breathe out, and they both stare at you with wide eyes. “We had dinner there the week we moved in, didn’t we? Channie, you spilled your drink all over Min’s pants. Min, you wouldn’t stop cursing because it got all sticky and-” you break off in wonder as your mind forms such vivid pictures of that day. 

Minho laughs wetly, a hot tear falling down his face. “Yeah, yeah, that’s exactly what happened.”

Chan still stares at you in wonder before laughing weakly. “You remember?”

You nod happily, messily wiping your cheeks. “Yeah, I know that’s not much, but-.”

“No, baby, this is huge,” Chan smiles through tears, wrapping you into a tight hug. “That’s your first breakthrough after only three weeks, baby.”

You giggle happily and beam at Minho, who’s still frozen in place. Reaching out for him, he takes your hand and lets you pull him into your hug. Minho cups your cheek and kisses your forehead softly. “I’m so happy for you,” he tells you genuinely.

-

Back home, as you prepare for bed, the weight of the day slowly settles on your shoulders. For the first time since you got back home it doesn’t feel like the burden of another wasted day but a blanket of comfort. It reminds you of the love and care that surrounds you in the presence of your husbands. Minho brushes your hair as Chan takes off your makeup for you, both as gentle as they can get.

As you lay in bed between them, the events of the past few weeks replay in your mind. The argument with Minho feels like a very distant memory now, simply a hurdle you’ve all overcome together. His forgiveness, his understanding, and his undying love for you feel like a balm for your wounded, anxious heart. Chan’s patience, kindness, and unwavering support for the two of you remind you of the strength of your bond.

In the quiet of the night, with Chan’s steady breathing on one side and Minho’s warm presence on the other, you feel a sense of peace lull you in. The road to your recovery would still be a long one, and you weren’t naive enough to believe that there wouldn’t be any more challenges.

You whisper a quiet “I love you” into the darkness, and in the soft murmur of their responses, you find a promise—a promise of healing and a love that will never leave you. You don’t know why, but right here, you understand that no matter what comes your way, you’ll face it together as a family. With that thought, you drift into a peaceful sleep, knowing that with Chan and Minho by your side, you’ll be okay. You would talk to Chan about the distance you feel another day, and you’d work through your shared trauma with Minho another time, supporting him through his share of the deal as well. For today, you’re glad to be able to fall asleep between the loves of your life.

PART FIVE | PART SEVEN

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[roosterforme]

Batting Practice Part 31 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Nothing melts Bradley's heart quite like Everett's excitement for his upcoming adoption. While the three of you count down to the big day, there are unexpected houseguests to deal with and neverending happiness to absorb. 

Warnings: Fluff, angst, swearing, smut

Length: 5200 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader

Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun! Batting Practice masterlist.

"Mom! Dad!" Everett shouted, running up the sidewalk when Molly arrived to drop him off at home on Monday evening. "Aunt Molly said I'm getting a baby cousin in March!"

Bradley watched as Molly hustled along the sidewalk behind Everett, and he went to meet her to get his soon to be son's overnight bag. "Thanks for watching him for the weekend," Bradley said, looping the bag over his shoulder while he thought about how sexy you'd looked in Palm Springs wearing your collar and leash. Then he glanced at where you were giving Everett a big hug on the front porch, and he thought about how hot you were even in full mom mode.

"We had fun," Molly said, stifling a yawn. "Bob took him on a hike, and then we did math problems with gummy bears. He's all ready to start second grade." Then she grinned at Bradley and said, "You owe me one for packing your wife's weekend bag with you in mind."

Bradley grunted, cracking his knuckles to try to keep his composure. Only about two more hours until Everett was in bed for the night and he could have his Kitten all to himself. "Yeah, I definitely owe you one."

Molly clasped her hands in front of her baby bump, clearly very pleased that he had enjoyed his wedding gift. Then she bent to kiss Everett and tell him goodbye. "I'll call you after your first day of school tomorrow, Ev. Love you."

"Bye, Aunt Molly!" Everett waved as Bradley's sister-in-law drove away.

Bradley scooped Everett up in his arms and followed you inside. While he had enjoyed the two nights away with you immensely, he missed Ev's laugh and his smile so much. "Pancakes for dinner? And then I'll show you the baseball jersey we got for you in Palm Springs?"

"Yes!" Everett cheered. And then as he helped Bradley mix some chocolate chips into the pancake batter with a spoon, he asked, "Did you adopt me yet?"

"Oh," Bradley grunted, pausing to really look at Ev. Wide, sincere eyes looked back up at him. He thought back to the very first day of tee ball, remembering just how much he really liked talking to Everett right from the start. How he only grew to appreciate him more and more. And he let himself feel all of the overwhelming love right now that he had for this kid. "I wish, Ev. Your mom has to call some people first, and make a few appointments. It might take a few weeks." Bradley didn't want to tell him that it might be next year before anything was finalized.

"Okay," he replied, and his shoulders slumped with dejection. "But I thought it would be cool to tell everyone at school tomorrow that I got a dad over the summer."

Bradley wrapped him in a hug and just held him for a few seconds. "You can still tell them that. I'm your dad, for sure, kiddo. It doesn't matter if it's not official yet."

"Okay," Everett whispered against Bradley's chest. "But when can I write my name is Everett Bradshaw?"

Anything. Anything in the world. Bradley would do anything for this kid. As he held him and thought about how much his life had changed, he figured the fact that he would do whatever it took to make Everett feel happy and loved was enough to make him a good dad. He'd learn all the other details over time. He would probably make more mistakes and inadvertently teach Ev more bad words. But he would do anything for him.

Bradley kissed the top of his head. "Not quite yet. But you know what? You and your mom can probably both start using Bradshaw for your last name around the same time, so that's good, right?" he asked, his voice not much more than a harsh whisper. Everett hugged him tighter, and Bradley didn't ever want to let go, because he found as much comfort in these hugs as Ev seemed to.

And then that was when you walked into the kitchen to find Bradley with tears in his eyes as Everett clung to him.

"I thought we were trying on our new jerseys?" you asked, and Bradley pulled you into the hug as well. 

He smothered your face in kisses before he said, "That's for after dinner. And then we're gonna pack Ev's bag for school and watch Toy Story. But first just let me hold you both."

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

The next day was pure chaos. Everett begged Bradley to drop him off at school on his way to North Island, and on your way to work, you answered your phone when you saw that Molly was calling. She was crying.

"What's wrong?" you asked her, trying to navigate your way through traffic, thinking you may have to turn around and head to her condo. 

"Bob's being deployed," she sobbed, and your heart clenched. 

"When?"

"In a few weeks," she said, sniffling into the phone. "I can't do this without him."

You assumed she meant she couldn't handle her pregnancy on her own, but when you tried to ask, she just cried louder. You could barely understand what she was saying, and you already knew you were going to have to have a conversation with Bradley about having her stay at your house. 

"Molly, it's going to be okay. You'll be great, and I'll be around to help you. And so will Bradley."

She laughed through her tears. "My turd-in-law likes me now, because I didn't pack any real clothing for your honeymoon."

You rolled your eyes. "He has always liked you. I think that just made him like you more. Let me call you back later tonight?"

"Okay." Molly's voice was soft and small as you ended the call, and you hated hearing her like that. But you had other important things to take care of. 

As you parked your car and made your way into your office, you rolled your eyes at Frank. You had bigger things to deal with than him. Once you were settled at your desk, you debated with yourself about which phone call to make first: Danny or your lawyer. You decided on Danny, and when he answered after seven rings with a groggy hello, you got right to the point.

"Any chance you were planning on responding to the petition I sent you for child support?"

You could practically hear him rolling his eyes, and now you were thankful you caught him first thing in the morning. "I have one hundred and twenty days to comply. And that's according to my expensive lawyer that you're forcing me to pay for. I hope you realize that this would mean there's less money for Everett."

Now you were the one rolling your eyes. "It's already been months, Danny."

"I have one hundred and twenty days," he reiterated, practically snarling at you through the phone. "You'll hear more about it when I'm good and ready. I still can't believe you're trying to destroy my life like this. You weren't money hungry prior to a few months ago. And I could still have that tee ball boyfriend of yours charged for entering my home without permission."

"He's my husband now," you said, keeping your voice as steady as possible. 

"Good for you," he replied with a sarcastic chuckle. 

"You're right. It's very good for me," you said, raising your voice over his horrible laughter. "I was just calling to let you know that you're about to be served with some papers that will negate the child support petition. And if you don't comply with what I want, I'll drag you through the legal system until you're out of money."

The line went silent, and you had to bite your tongue, forcing him to be the first one to speak again. "What the fuck do you want?" 

You took a deep breath and thought about your husband and your son and your sister and how much love was in your life now. "I would like to give you exactly what you hoped for: nothing. I can remove Everett and myself from your life completely if you agree to do something for me."

After another long pause, Danny said, "Name your terms."

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

Bradley was anxious to learn how your conversation with your lawyer had gone. But when he got home, it was just you there in your little black skirt and high heels, standing in the kitchen sipping a bottle of tequila. 

"Whoa," he said, rushing toward you and taking the bottle out of your hand. But you were smiling. 

"I was going to make us some margaritas, but I got carried away," you whispered, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him. Bradley tasted the tang of the liquor on your lips and tongue. 

"Does this mean you have good news, Kitten?" He was holding you tight to him, forehead pressed to yours as he waited, hoping to hear what would make him happier than anything else right now. 

"What are you doing eight weeks from today?" you asked, raking your fingers gently along his scalp. 

"Baby, if you don't tell me right now that I get to adopt Ev in eight weeks, I'm going to cry."

You smiled and pressed your lips to his. "You get to adopt Ev eight weeks from today. We have the date set at the courthouse."

"How?" he asked as his eyes filled with tears. "How did I get this lucky? In less than a week, I got myself a wife and a court date!"

He wasn't sure how he could be this happy and also be crying so much. But when you told him that you got Danny to agree to your terms, he had to wipe away his tears even though he was smiling. 

"Where's Ev now?" he asked, kissing along your neck, overcome with so much relief.

"Molly picked him up from school. She's going to bring him home after dinner."

"So, we're alone?" he asked, smiling against the curve of your jaw and hiking up your skirt. "We're alone. Until I invite Molly to come stay with us while Bob is deployed."

Bradley's hand's froze on the bare backs of your thighs. "I'm sorry, what?"

You kissed and nipped at his lips, but he pulled a few inches away from you. "Bob is being deployed."

"Yeah," he replied. "I got that part."

You rolled your eyes and started to unzip his flight suit. "And Molly is going to be lonely and overwhelmed, and I think she might want to come here for a few weeks."

Bradley groaned. "You can't follow up the good news about Everett with this devastating announcement, Kitten."

"Bradley!" you scolded, playfully smacking his chest as he yanked your skirt up until he was palming your ass. 

"All I'm saying is that Molly is like this annoying little sister that I never wanted, and even though I do love her, she's going to cramp our style, Baby."

"How so?" you asked, easing your hand down the front of his flight suit and stroking his cock. 

"She'll have to sleep in the Phillies room," he whispered. "You know that's where we've been having our quickies."

"Hmm, you're right about that, Coach. Think I could change your mind with a blowjob?"

Bradley grunted and thrust against your hand. He tilted your chin up and kissed you. "Your lips on my cock could get me to agree to anything, and you know it."

You nodded at him with all the confidence in the world before you sank to your knees.

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

Spending several weeks waiting was not ideal. Everett was asking nearly every day if it was almost November yet. Now it was barely October, but the three of you had gotten into a routine. Bradley made breakfast every morning while you packed lunches. Then he dropped Everett off at school, and you went to work a little early. When you picked Everett up from school, most days it was just so he could rush through his homework and dinner and spend an hour or two at the park playing and practicing baseball with Bradley. 

Your husband was true to his promises. And he seemed to like practicing baseball as much as Everett did. When you joined them one day, the October air was cool enough to trick you into believing you could be somewhere besides southern California. And Everett was hitting Bradley's pitches so hard, it was unbelievable. 

"I thought you were the famous Bradshaw?" you called out, teasing Bradley before he threw a pitch. "Don't you pitch for the Navy league? That second grader is kicking your butt."

He glared at you out of the corner of his eye and then dropped his ball and glove and chased you until he caught you in his arms. Your laughter was so loud as he kissed you and tickled you, and you tried to get away, but he was too strong. 

"I take it back! I take it back!" you gasped, out of breath from laughing. "You're amazing! The best pitcher I've ever seen."

He conceded by hugging you from behind instead of tickling you. Then he whispered, "I'm not even kidding, Kitten, he's so fucking good at baseball." Then he kissed you one last time and returned to pitch a slider to Everett who looked permanently happy these days. And when he hit the pitch easily, you realized you were permanently happy, too.

But that night, you had to deal with the thing you knew was coming at some point. It was late, and you were in bed with Bradley's mouth on your pussy. You were close, so so so close. But your phone kept ringing softly on your nightstand, and you could tell it was Molly by the ringtone. 

"Don't answer it," Bradley grunted, licking a long stripe from your opening to your clit. "You can call her back when I'm done with you."

So you laced your fingers through his pretty curls and rode his face, whining his name as your phone started ringing again. Bradley slowed down his tempo, just like he knew you needed, and when he wrapped his lips around your clit, that prickle of his mustache on your sensitive skin sent you. He squeezed your thighs as you planted your feet, and you came so hard, you were seeing stars. Your knee was shaking. He was unrelenting. Your vision blurred every time you blinked, but a beat later, Bradley's body was wrenched away from yours, and he was out the bedroom door and at the top of the steps with a baseball bat in his hand. 

Then you heard Molly's soft voice calling up from the bottom of the stairs. "I'm sorry. It's just me."

You tried to scramble for your clothing, but you realized Bradley had undressed you over by the bathroom. And then you realized that he was standing there in his snug underwear with a massive erection, holding the bat like he was about to take someone's head off with it. He must have heard Molly let herself in the house. 

As you located your clothing on the floor, Bradley lowered the bat, nodded and said, "Your sister's here."

"Thanks," you told him, yanking your panties on and slipping into his undershirt. You kissed him quickly as you rushed down the stairs and into the living room where she was standing with a tote bag and a bouquet of those hideous flowers she liked so much. She was crying softly. 

"I can't," she whispered, and you wrapped your arms around her. "I can't stay there alone another night. I hate being away from Bob. You know what he did? He got the guy from the gas station to deliver the flowers to me today, because it's the six month anniversary of the first time he said he loved me."

"Oh, Molly," you whispered, kissing her forehead. 

"He set this shit up before he left!" she wailed. "I don't even know what he's doing today, because I haven't talked to him in a week. A week! And now I interrupted you having sex, and I can tell Bradley's mad at me."

You held her close. "He's not mad at you, Molly. He just thought you were a burglar or something."

"I'm sorry," she moaned, holding the flowers out to the side so they didn't get crushed. Her belly felt like it had gotten bigger since the last time you saw her, and you patted her there which made her smile. 

"Stop apologizing. You can stay with us until Bob gets back." You really should have run that past Bradley before you made such a bold declaration, but you knew he wouldn't fuss too much. Probably. So you coaxed Molly into letting you put the flowers in a vase in the kitchen, and then you led her upstairs to where Bradley was wearing a full set of pajamas and brushing his teeth in your bathroom. 

"Coach?" you called out to him softly, and he made eye contact with you in the mirror. "She's going to stay with us." You weren't really asking, and he didn't look upset. He just nodded and then spit out the toothpaste.

"I figured," he said, rinsing his mouth and drying his hands. He kissed you and pulled you in for a hug before adding, "I'll go sleep in the Phillies room for the night. Just tonight. That way you can talk to her so she can fall asleep. But after tomorrow morning, it's all red and white and the letter P everywhere for your sister. I don't fucking care how much she misses Bob. Got it?"

"Got it," you told him with a smile. "You're the best husband in the world."

"I know," he said with a grumble, but he was smiling too. And when he passed Molly in the hallway, she was still holding one of the flowers. He kissed her on the forehead without saying anything else, and then he walked into the Phillies room as Molly climbed in bed with you.

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

Everett was up so early on Halloween, Bradley needed to drink two cups of coffee just to keep up with him. "If you're this excited now, I don't know if it's a good idea for you to be collecting copious amounts of candy later." He raised the mug to his lips again as you and Molly walked into the kitchen. 

The three of you watched Everett bounce over to the white board on the refrigerator and update it to say that there were just ten days left until his adoption. That meant that Bob would be home in nine days. That also meant that Molly would be out of here in nine days or less, and that did indeed bring a smile to Bradley's face. 

It wasn't that he didn't like Molly. He actually loved her. Everett was obsessed with his Aunt Molly, and she loved spending time with him. She was fun and witty, and it brought Bradley joy to pick on her. But she was also messy, and she was eating all of their food, and he couldn't walk around in his underwear as much as he had gotten used to. 

But last night, she'd happily taken Everett out for dinner and to the movies for a few hours with Bradley's credit card. And you'd worn your collar and leash for him along with your cat ears and tail, and holy shit, he needed to stop thinking about it right now.

"Morning, Kitten," he grunted as he poured you some coffee. 

"Ten more days!" Everett shouted.

"Nine more days!" Molly shouted.

But you bit your lip and pulled a piece of mail out of the tray on the counter. "I thought it would be more fun to open this when we were all together," you said, tearing into the envelope and holding up your new social security card. "But I'm officially a Bradshaw."

"Yes!" Bradley whooped, hoisting you up into his arms as you squealed. Molly and Ev did an obnoxious dance across the kitchen as Bradley kissed your neck and ear while you chanted Bradshaw, Bradshaw.

"Everett will be next! I'm buying us one of those stupid flags people hang from their porch with their last name on it, I don't even care," you said as Bradley set you down, and his lips found yours.

"I love you, Kitten."

That evening, as the four of you got ready to go trick-or-treating, Bradley pulled on his Navy Waves uniform and then buttoned you into one of his Phillies jerseys.

"You'll have to borrow this until we can get you some Phillies gear of your own, Mrs. Bradshaw. Don't spill anything on this one," he muttered. "It's vintage."

You rolled your eyes so hard and then said, "No eating chocolate in it then?"

"No, no, no, absolutely no chocolate. This belonged to my dad."

"Oh," you gasped as he did up the last button. "Then I can't wear it tonight! It's too special."

You reached for the buttons, but Bradley stopped you with his larger hands. "Nah, it's okay, Kitten. Ol' Goose would have wanted you to wear it. I think he'd be happy to see me with you and Ev right now." Actually, Bradley knew both of his parents would have loved you and adored Everett. It was hard for him to think about the way Carole would have doted on her grandson. 

The look of awe on your face as you said, "Thank you. No chocolate," made Bradley chuckle. 

Then Molly's booming voice in the hallway had you pulling the door open to reveal her standing there dressed as a pregnant umpire. "Are you ready to rumble?!" she shouted into a bullhorn that had you and Bradley covering your ears while Everett chanted and cheered. 

"Baseball umpires don't use bullhorns! And they don't say that!" Bradley shouted over the ruckus, but when he reached for it, Molly yanked it away from him. 

"This one does," she said into the speaker, and Bradley thought one of them might not make it back tonight. 

But it was so hard to be annoyed when the four of you looked like you were ready to play baseball. And then Bradley had you take a photo of him kneeling down on the porch next to Everett dressed as a Phillies player. The photo was so sweet, he immediately set it as his lock screen. 

"Are we ready to go?" Molly asked using the bullhorn, and Bradley gritted his teeth. "Ev, that's a foul for looking so cute in your Halloween costume. You owe me a Snickers bar for that."

"That's not what umpires do," Bradley ground out, digging around in the massive bowl of candy that you had set on the porch steps, searching for the only thing that might make Molly stop.

"And my sister gets a red card for leaving the candy on the porch," she added through the speaker. "That'll get stolen by the first kid that comes by. Rookie mistake. I used to do that with my friends."

You just shook your head as Bradley said, "There aren't even red cards-"

But Molly turned the horn toward him. "And Bradley gets a foul for being a turd."

But then his fingers wrapped around the king sized Hershey's bar and he waved it in her face. "I'll trade you this for the bullhorn, Molly. Make good decisions."

She eyed him with trepidation, but he knew that candy was her weakness now more than ever. She'd finished a whole bag of fun sized Kit Kats two nights ago, and Bradley had to go to Target to replenish the Halloween supply. When Molly lunged for the Hershey's bar, Bradley quickly grabbed the bullhorn and shoved it discreetly into the shrubs as she immediately opened the wrapper. 

And after that, he had a pretty great night. Everett collected three pillowcases full of candy, and Molly ate it along the way while she repeatedly yelled, "Strike three, you're out!" every time Bradley tried to give you a kiss. But he was happy that Molly was having a night where she wasn't constantly thinking about Bob. 

"Can we get a family photo next to that huge inflatable pumpkin?" you asked, pointing at the lawn decoration in front of the last house on the street. Everett went running for the pumpkin, all hopped up on sugar. 

"Yep," Bradley said, pulling his phone out of his pocket. Molly held her hand out to take it from him, but he shook his head. "You need to be in the family photo, too." So he flagged down another dad who agreed to take the picture for them, and you slipped your arm around his waist and gave him a kiss just after the photo was taken.

"Thanks, Coach," you whispered, your soft voice right next to his ear. 

"Thanks, turd," Molly told him, trying to hide the tears she was swiping at as she turned to chase Everett down the sidewalk yelling about interference and personal fouls. 

But it was after everyone got home and Everett and Molly were sound asleep that Bradley's night got even better. He was tired, he really was, but as soon as you very carefully unbuttoned and removed his vintage Phillies jersey, you looked at him and licked your lips. 

"Kitten?" he asked softly, his cock already very interested in what might be happening next. 

You closed your eyes and said, "I bought something I wanted to try on for you."

Bradley groaned, ready to beg. "Yes," he grunted, and you were pushing him toward the bed as he got undressed down to his underwear. 

"Close your eyes. No peeking," you whispered, turning on the soft bedside lamp and turning off the overhead light. So he closed his eyes and listened to you flitting around the room, opening drawers and the closet door. His hand was down the front of his boxer shorts, and he was stroking himself when he felt your warm lips meet his. He moaned softly, "Can I look yet, Kitten?"

Once you were straddling his waist, your ass rubbing his cock through his underwear, you whispered, "My name is Lieutenant Kitten," and his eyes opened immediately. You were wearing his khaki uniform shirt, complete with his Bradshaw name tag. His favorite pair of aviators were perched low on your nose, and his dog tags were tucked between your breasts, hidden by the shirt. 

"You're the sexiest naval officer I have ever seen," Bradley promised, skimming his rough fingertips down your soft thigh, bent knee and calf. He smirked as you raised his hand to your lips and kissed his wedding band. "Lieutenant Kitten."

As you leaned forward to kiss his lips, Bradley noticed some dark green lace peeking out from the collar of the khaki shirt, and he started working on the buttons as you licked the seam of his lips. 

He felt the fabric before he saw it. You were covered in green lace from your tits down to your pussy, and he was already nudging it to the side, dying to know how wet you were. 

"You're in charge, Lieutenant," he whispered, his voice harsh. "What would you like me to do?" 

"You better make me cum."

He moaned as you lifted your hips, and he slipped that finger right inside you. So warm and silky. The bodysuit fit you like a dream, and you were leaning back, hands on his thighs, letting him watch your pussy sink down around two of his fingers now. You were rolling your hips slowly, making Bradley throb, but he was determined to give you exactly what you wanted first. 

God, had you ever been this wet before? You were practically dripping. "Does that feel good, Lieutenant?" he asked. 

"Keep going. Keep going." 

With three fingers now inside you and his thumb on your clit, Bradley worked you over at a leisurely pace that had him almost in a trance. The way you were moving looked obscene, like he was viewing something so sexy, so filthy, it was taboo. He was barely moving his hand now, just listening to your little grunts and moans as they got louder while you fucked yourself on his hand.

"God damn," he whispered, tapping your clit softly each time you withdrew to his fingertips, earning him a little gasp. 

"Bradley," you whined, getting a little louder now as you tilted your head forward to look him in the eye. Your grip tightened on his thighs, and his cock was demanding a fair share of your body, but he could tell you were close to orgasm. 

"Baby," he whined, your slick coating him and glistening as you rocked your body forward one, two, three more times, and then your pussy clenched, grabbing at his fingers. "Fuck."

"Oh my god!" you whined, lips parted, gasping as you jerked yourself along his fingers.

"I need to fuck you," he said, nodding his head. "Please?"

"Yes," you gasped, easing yourself onto your back, legs spread wide. He pushed that little bit of green lace to the side and coated his cock with the wetness on his hand, and then he fucked you. And he fucked you so hard, your back arched. And then he fucked you even harder, your tits bouncing free of the bodysuit while he shoved his still slick fingers into your mouth to keep you quiet.

He didn't last; he knew he wouldn't. Not with you in brand new lingerie and his shirt. Not with the chain of his dog tags tangled up with your paw print necklace. He filled you up with his cum as he leaned down, easing his fingers out of your mouth and replacing them with his tongue. Everything was back to that languid pace you'd set earlier as you dragged your fingers through his hair and tasted his mouth. 

Bradley pulled away to look at your pretty face, and you smiled as you ran your fingers along the scars on his cheek. "Did you enjoy your Halloween, Coach?"

With a kiss to the tip of your nose, Bradley pulled himself free from your body and collected you against his chest. He carefully leaned back against his pillow, holding you close with you still in his khaki shirt. "I did," he said thoughtfully, rubbing your arm. "I...well, I know it's kind of silly, but the last time I spent a Halloween with my dad was when I was three, and now I'm a dad."

"That's not silly," you told him. "And you're not just any dad. You're the best."

He held you tight. "You think Ev is going to make us dress as baseball players again next year?"

"Oh, one hundred percent."

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

Just two more parts left now! Thanks so much for reading! If there's something for Coach, Kitten and Ev that you're hoping to see, hit me up. Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and thank you for the banner @mak-32

PART 32

Don't forget to check out Bob and Molly in The Curveball!

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[sanguineterrain]

Hiii, discovered your fics on AO3 and they’re very my jam! If you’re still taking requests, could I suggest something where Jason rescues you, an angsty hurt/comfort? Maybe they’re pining for each-other and maybe confront/confess their feelings, or are already together, up to you.

No worries if not 😊😊 Thanks for the good words ❤️🖤

Hey I know you! Thanks for leaving nice comments over yonder 🥰 Idk if I really delivered on this prompt but I hope you like it anyway lol 😅 I combined this prompt with another I received about Jason and the reader fighting before the reader is hurt/kidnapped.

jason todd x fem!reader. tw: creepy men, crime alley, injured reader, jason shoots people (🎶whatta mighty good man🎶)

****

"If you don't know who this is, you shouldn't be fucking calling. Leave a message after the beep or whatever."

Beeeep!

"Jay, it's me. Can we please talk? You can't ignore me forever. I want us to fix this. I—" You swallow hard. "I miss you."

You sigh, rubbing your forehead as you think of what to say. You've already left three unanswered messages. There's no more for you to say. You just want things to be fixed.

You want your best friend back.

"Okay. Call me when you can."

You hang up and pocket your phone.

The fight was stupid. Jason doesn't respond well to being pushed, but you pushed him anyway. You wanted to know where he disappeared to at night. You were sick of the secrets, of always feeling like you were three steps behind, left in the dark.

If you really cared about me, you would tell me where you go.

Jason had stilled, expression cold.

I don't owe you anything.

Your voice had turned wobbly then.

Jay, don't I mean anything to you? I want you to trust me, I want this to be a normal friendship!

He'd put on his jacket and collected the few things he left in your apartment.

You're right. You deserve normal.

You haven't spoken since. At first, you thought Jason left for a few hours to cool down. So you gave him space.

But then hours turned to days, and now it's been a full week and a half since you'd fought. Last night, you broke down and cried. This is it. You've lost him for good.

Part of you fears the reality is darker than him just leaving. You've long suspected that whatever Jason goes out to do is probably illegal since he's always out at night.

What if you're called down to the police station to identify a body?

All those things left unsaid. Jason will never know you love him.

Screw this. You're going to his apartment.

It's late. It's really late, and this is actually not the best idea to carry out at eight o'clock at night in Crime Alley. There's a reason Jason always insists on hanging out at your apartment or at a cafe.

A man whistles at you down the street. "Goin' somewhere, girlie?"

This was a bad idea. Jason might be the one who has to ID a body tonight.

You can't remember which of these apartments is his. But you can't call him. He can't know you're here, not yet.

"You shouldn't be here, lady!" a kid shouts at you from a fire escape. "He don't like new people on his turf!"

You don't take the time to figure out who the kid means. Crime Alley is known for, well, crime. The sooner you can locate Jason's apartment, the better.

A group of men light cigarettes down the road. You pause and turn around. In the process, you stumble over a garbage can.

That instantly draws their attention.

"Well, what have we here?" one jeers. "You lost, sweetie?"

You run.

You don't care if it makes you look afraid—you are afraid, and you're beyond caring. You shouldn't have come here.

You turn abruptly. You have no idea where you're going, but maybe if you act like you do, you'll throw them off. You take another turn, then another, and you look behind you to check if—

Wham!

You crash into a body. A muscled body, one that forces you backwards.

White, glowing eyes that smolder inside a red helmet meet your own.

Jason's never warned you about the Red Hood. He just tells you to stay away from the area altogether. You don't really need to be warned about Hood anyway. You know what he's about. You know you've probably just sealed your fate tonight.

"What the fuck?" he asks, modulated voice rough.

"I'm sorry," you babble. "Please don't hurt m—"

Gunshots ring out, and you realize you've just stumbled into an active gunfight. With Red Hood.

Fuck your luck.

The gunmen have spotted you, and they take great pleasure in using you as a distraction; they fire at you instead of Hood.

He shields you with his body, blocking the bullets. It works until a flash grenade is thrown, and you're separated from Hood, ears ringing. You hit the ground hard from the impact, scraping your hands and arms.

Someone's arm wraps around your neck, and you're suddenly dragged backward. You scream, scratching at the arm, and a fist thumps your head. You blink at the pain, too dazed to keep fighting.

"We had a deal, Hood!" your captor shouts, arm tightening around your neck. "Let us go or she dies!"

"Negation's over," Red Hood snarls, and shoots all four men.

You cry as the shot echoes too close to your face and for a moment, you fear you've been shot too. The now dead man slips off of you, collapsing in a heap on the ground.

Your ankle protests when you step on it. In the chaos of the fight, you hadn't realized you sprained it. You trip and fall on your butt, scrambling away from the pooling blood.

"What are you doing here?" Hood growls at you, stalking closer.

You start to cry, edging backward.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt your fight, please d-don't kill me—"

You press down hard on your wrist and that hurts more than your ankle. You cry harder at the pain, grabbing your wrist.

Red Hood gets closer, and you try to scramble away with one arm and one leg. He kneels down and holds your good arm in place so you can't move.

"I'm sorry!" you say again, tears thick on your lashes.

"Fuck," Hood says roughly, and unlocks his helmet.

Your eyes widen as he pulls it off.

"J—"

"I told you to never come to this area, and you come alone, in the fucking dark, without a weapon? What the hell is wrong with you?" Jason snarls.

"Please don't yell at me," you whisper, covering your face with your hands.

You're shaking, adrenaline turning your stomach. A moment later, you throw up.

"Shit," Jason says and puts a hand on your stomach to help you sit back up. "Shit, I'm an asshole. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell."

"I thought you died," you say, daring to look at him. "You weren't answering my calls, and you only go out at night. I thought..."

Jason immediately looks avalanched by guilt. He cradles you to his chest.

"Fuck. I'm sorry. I should've—I thought it would be better, leaving."

"I didn't want you to leave," you cry, arms curling around his neck. "I love you so much, Jay. I was so scared. Don't leave me again."

Jason's breath hitches. You freeze, suddenly sure you've screwed it all up.

"Jay—"

"Y'love me?" he asks, cupping your cheek.

You nod emphatically.

"Even though I'm..." He gestures to the helmet.

"I'm just happy you're alive," you say. "I missed you so much, Jason."

His arms tighten around you. "God, I missed you too, baby. I was going crazy not talking to you. I'm sorry I ignored you. Wasn't right of me. But don't ever do this again, okay? If I hadn't been here—"

He takes a shuddering breath and kisses your neck. You nod against his shoulder.

"I promise. Just don't shut me out again, please."

Jason's quiet for a moment. You can feel him thinking.

"This isn't gonna be normal," he says. "If-if we do this. This is part of me. Who I am."

"I don't care," you say. "I love you, Jay. Every part. Whatever that entails."

[nukaberries]

Hi! Can I have the non-human companions' reaction to a male sole that is very protective of them? Like if they're at a bar and someone shouts "get out of here freak/bucket of bolts/etc" he's beating the crap out of them immediately and when he's done he just goes back to the said companion and is all caring like "are you ok? Do you need anything?" Djdjfnfnejjr p l e a s e I've had this idea for so long

Non-human companions will always have a special place in my heart (especially Hancock because characters from Goodneighbor will always be superior to me), so this ask is really fun! Besides, I'm pretty sure every Hancock or Valentine fan has sided against the Brotherhood just for this reason. Also I have a feeling I could be missing someone, since I almost forgot Codsworth and Strong, so please let me know if I am, I can just add them on lmao

//

Non-Human Companions React to M!Sole Being Protective (Includes: Curie, Codsworth, Hancock, Nick, Strong and X6-88)

Curie She insists that Sole didn't have to go to all that trouble for her, she understands that some people are bound to dislike her simply based on her appearance and although that can be disheartening, she's come to accept it. She's a little shocked by how Sole reacts, he's never been particularly violent if he can help it, but it's more how quickly his mood changes afterwards when he goes to check on her that catches her more off guard than anything. She can't help but feel touched by the gesture though, it's nice to know that there's someone willing to look out for her.

Codsworth The Commonwealth is a lot different than it was 210 years ago, Codsworth still remembers the days when people would clamour at the opportunity to have their very own Mr. Handy. Now, all he seems to be is target practice or scrap metal to the inhabitants of the wasteland. Nevertheless, that doesn't mean he's immune to how some people tend to treat him. While Sole's act of violence is quite concerning to him, Codsworth does find himself grateful that his old friend is willing to defend him against the abuse he's become accustomed to. Codsworth assures Sole he's fine and insists that he doesn't cause so much ruckus on his behalf, but he will make a point to thank him profusely for caring, even if he is just a robot butler.

Hancock While Goodneighbor is more than welcoming to people from all walks of life, Hancock isn't blind to the treatment of his kind outside the walls. He'd seen it with his own brother in Diamond City and Hancock wishes that he'd fought as hard for the exiled ghouls as Sole had just fought for him. The name calling doesn't bother him, really, he's heard it all before and he can handle himself. What catches him off guard is Sole beating the bigot that had insulted him to a pulp. He does figure that Sole might owe him one, considering Hancock had handled Finn for him the day they'd met. Still, he assures Sole that he's fine and clarifies that he can fight his own battles, not that the show Sole had put on wasn't entertaining to watch.

Nick Valentine Being around as long as Nick has, he knows what people think of his kind and sometimes it can be hard to blame them. The Institute are dangerous and they've taken countless lives for their own selfish gain, even though it's not his fault he has to walk around looking like their poster boy, he can understand why people might take out their frustration on him. Of course, that doesn't mean he isn't quick to bite back to defend himself. On this occasion though, Sole was quicker and much more vicious and Nick had barely managed to comprehend what had just happened before Sole was back at his side asking if he was okay. Nick was fine, as usual, and only might a slightly irritated remark about Sole using his words next time rather than his fists, before thanking him.

Strong He doesn't really understand the insult being thrown at him and, although he definitely will try to join in, he isn't too sure as to why Sole is attacking a random civilian. Once Sole has made sure that Strong is okay - which, of course, he is - and once he's explained what had just happened and why, Strong isn't particularly bothered, he knows Super Mutants are the superior race, the comments of a "puny human" won't change that.

X6-88 A snide remark from a worthless scavenger means absolutely nothing to him, but apparently it means a lot to Sole, who doesn't hesitate to give the scavenger a beatdown and make him apologise to X6. He decides to wait, rather impatiently, for Sole to be done, before asking that he doesn't cause such a scene again for something so meaningless. Deep down though, Sole knows that's his way of saying thank you.

[mcflymemes]

THE DA VINCI CODE (2006) PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue from the film, adjust as necessary

you say you hate history. nobody hates history. they hate their own histories.

we are who we protect, i think. what we stand up for.

that's why we study history... so we'll stop killing each other.

can you keep secrets? can you know a thing and never say it again?

how many have been murdered over this question?

if it's so important to you to stop us, then you're just going to have to shoot us.

understanding our past determines actively our ability to understand the present.

tonight, this will be our quest.

how would you know that?

you seem... uncomfortable.

you have me confused with someone else.

why would i try to run? i didn't do anything.

will you excuse me a moment?

i was supposed to have drinks with him earlier this evening.

i waited for over an hour.

i'm afraid the police arrived more quickly than i anticipated.

you must follow me, please. for your own safety.

you knew they were coming?

if you step inside, please. time is of the essence.

you have not been honest with me.

you will leave this house!

your ruse is pathetic.

will you just tell us what the hell it's for?

i've jammed my shoulder, i've been shot at... i'm bleeding.

if we are to get away from here, we must find another way.

you can start with him.

do not react to this message.

you must follow my directions very closely. you are in grave danger.

i could run them over.

i can pretty much remember what i see.

sorry for all the mystery, [name].

i'm into something here that i cannot understand.

you should be ashamed.

if you would close your eyes...

well, that's a bit strange, isn't it?

how many wine glasses are there on the table?

there's virtually no empirical proof.

that is what they want you to believe.

that's a common misunderstanding.

you are saying all this is real?

you are an angel.

i am a ghost.

have you ever heard those words before?

why are you asking these things?

i am the messenger of god.

every breath you take is a sin.

you will be hunted by angels.

you believe in god? your god doesn't forgive murderers. he burns them.

do you mock me?

we are betrayed.

did they find it? this buried treasure?

i've never heard about any of this.

this is an old wives' tale.

now you're a psychologist too?

what will you do?

it's a rudimentary phallus.

the only thing that matters is what you believe.

i thought i was going to die.

sometimes i wonder if i wasn't alone down there.

maybe human is divine.

thank you... for bringing me here.

the mind sees what it chooses to see.

do i owe you money?

care to open up for an old colleague?

first, a test of honor.

shall i serve coffee or tea?

what would you do?

maybe there is no proof.

surely such a travesty has never occurred.

your heart is true.

they are used to keep secrets.

you used me.

we've been dragged into a world of people who think this stuff is real.

do you trust this man? i hope you can.

i don't follow.

stop now. tell me where it is.

i don't know what you are talking about.

is it a secret you will die for?

well, i must say, you two are anything but dull.

forgive the intrusion.

i'm not sure how much help i'm gonna be here this evening.

funny, i don't even like history.

i've never seen much good come from looking to the past.

are you a god-fearing man?

you're acting like you lost your mind.

[bamsara]

Prompt Drabble: Stitched up wounds 🧵 🩹

Sun-Centric | Wordcount: 1,217 | AO3 Version

You weren't exactly the best coordinated or well organized person. Or maybe you were just super unlucky at times, it would explain all the instances of misfortune you've had, small or big injuries that shouldn't have happened but did so like the universe was just trying to spite you.

So you're not all that surprised when you stick your hand into the murky water of the kitchen sink to start doing the dishes, feel something a little weird, and pull it back out to see a steak knife hanging from the middle of your hand.

You hear Sun dropping the plates behind you on the table before the pain actaully reaches you. "Oh. Uh. Oops."

"Oops? You're 'oopsing' right now?" Sun's form is immediatly to your side, his job of collecting the remaining dishware forgotten as the animatronic grabs your wet wrist. Before he flips over your palm, the knife falls right out of your flesh, bits of blood falling with it, now a dark stain into the dirty water. "Oh, dear. Oh me oh my."

Sun's faceplate turns briefly to the car keys hanging on the hook by the front door, and you're quick to speak up. "We are not going to urgent care for something as small as this. I'm not footing that bill." The animatronic gains a sour look, but you're firm. "Not happening."

A disapproving pause, but the Sun looks back to your hand.

The pain is starting, and your mouth pressing into a line, sucking in a hiss through your teeth as the sting of the water forms a bloody ring around the wound. "Ah, fuck-"

"We told you-" He's tutting at you, flipping your palm upwards and holding it firmly with one hand, the other grabbing a paper towl and dabbing the wetness away. "I think I've told you several times that just throwing knifes into the sink for later was going to bite you!"

"Not my fault!" You flinch as he brings your hand down underneath the faucet, running clean water over the wound, "Knives just have it out for me! Remember that time-" He turns it off, and all but dragging you by the wrist to the bathroom, with your complaining all the while. "-the time with the rabbit?"

"Not a funny joke!" Sun sits you down on the closed toliet seat, a firm press on your shoulders as an unspoken 'stay put', turning on his heel and opening the medicine cabinet up. "Not funny! Very upsetting! And I'll be hearing none of it right now!"

The pain in your hand was spreading, but you're trying to laugh. "C'mon, it's-"

"Oh, would you look at that! It's our good friend, disinfectant!" He pulls the bottle out with purpose, a small first aid in his other hand, and holds it in the air with a tense smile. "Very important to use. Let's make sure that dish water doesn't make anything infected, shall we?"

You cringe in on yourself. "I think I'll be fine with a band-aid."

"Please." The Sun washes his hands, then lowers himself, setting the supplies to the side as he crouches in front of you. He holds your wrist again, turning it over, and the tutting as blood dribbles out from the small wound, sliding off your skin and dripping to the tile. Not the worst injury you've recieved, but definatly an annoyance. "I think you'll need a stitch or two. Maybe three. And wouldn't you know that robots tend to have very steady hands."

You wrinkle your nose as he pulls as he dips the bottle of disinfectant onto a gauze pad, and positions it over the wound. "Said the robot that was programmed to juggle-aUUUghhh Ow! Ow, fucking. Ow."

Sun uses his thumb to press the alcohol pad into your palm with a gentle firmness, and sends you a look when you try to jerk your arm backwards. "We have four arms! Do not make us use them."

"Unfair." You pout, watching as he pulls the gauze away now tainted with a slight color of red. A bead of wetness swells in your eye at the pain. "Mean."

"Hush." He speaks, and sounds like his other half coming in underneath his tone. Sun tosses the gauze, pulling out a small kit with one hand and thumbing away the single tear with the other. "This will hurt a little."

The pain is evident and not leaving soon, and the blood was no longer dribbling down your palm, so you look away as Sun threads the needle with careful percision, (large fingers are not, he does have steady hands) and lines it up carefully. You flinch at the first stitch.

He presses his fingers down onto your wrist, keeping it trapped against your own knee, and uses the thumb of that hand to keep your palm splayed open as the other worked. "Try not to move."

You breathe hotly through your nose. "I'm trying."

"And you're doing a very good job!" He's quick, focused. The wonders of expertise. He's not nervous because he's seen you survive worse, so the habit of speech comes naturally to him. "Good, good. There you go. Open your hand little more." A third stitch, and you groan at the realization you'll need a few more, but Sun keeps going.

"Almost done." Sun comes to the last one. "You're doing very good, sweetheart."

"Shut up." Your face is both hot in embarressment and in painful discomfort.

"Oh, you'd rather we'd be quiet?" Sun's smile is teasing, but comforting. He's probably trying to be distracting on purpose. "Cranky."

You open your mouth to retort, but the final stitch and knot is finished, and you fight to appear stoic at the sensation as Sun wipes the now-closed wound with a disinfected wipe again, pulling out another roll of gauze. "No more dishwashing for you, I'm afriad. You can leave those things to little-ole me!"

He wraps your hand gingerly, covering the cleaned and sutured wound with bandages to protect it's healing. You don't say anything, but you know he glances up every other second or so to see if you wince if the wrapping is too tight. The wrap is finished, a knot on the back of your hand, and you sigh. "I can just put a glove over it."

"How about you not do that?" The animatronic leans back, gathering the left-over supplies and storing them away back into the medical cabinet. You rise to stand, and he stops you before you can brush past him. "Hold on! We're not done here!"

You raise a brow, but you see it coming before he starts. Carefully, grabbing the wrist and not the hand, his takes a hold of the injured one, raising it slowly and gently up to his faceplate, leaning downwards until the bandage barely graces his teeth. "Mwau. It'll heal in no time."

You laugh. "That's so corny!"

"And it works! Scientifically proven!" He chuckles, turning to his side and gesturing for you to walk past him and out of the bathroom like a knight would welcome a charge into their castle. "Now! Dishes away! Not for you though. I ban you to couch duty."

"...What's couch duty?"

He winks at you. "It's the duty you do when you don't do anything."

"....Boo."

[lemotmo]

I am confused by people on the daily but sending it to you because I loved her response. She has to be exhausted by her inbox 😭. I don't know how you all handle this.

Q. I need a few things explained to me. I will say upfront I am camp Tommy. The article did not seem pro Tommy and Buck to me, but plenty of my Tommy peers were thrilled with it, but so were Buddie fans so there is a disconnect in someone's interpretation. It was unnecessary for Tim to have brought up Eddie there. They weren't talking about Eddie, it was inappropriate. It doesn't matter that Lou and Oliver never did a chemistry test, they're fine together. Why do people care? Lastly Oliver clearly has an agenda. It would not have killed him to hold that picture of Ryan for another day. He could have let us have our confirmation that Tommy is indeed back and maybe shared a pic of him instead of Ryan. Lou can have BTS stuff too.

A. The article speaks for itself. It doesn't require interpretation. Tim mentioned Eddie because they're all part of the same storyline. Period. People can choose to ignore that fact if they want but it won't change the storyline. Eddie is the point. Eddie has been the point. That theme is carrying over into this season. Buck's relationship with Tommy is going to play some part in whatever Eddie's self discovery is going to be. Tim wouldn't have mentioned Eddie in relation to the pair otherwise. Someone can correct me if I'm wrong but I don't think TV shows do chemistry reads unless it's a long term thing. If it is just for a particular plot or storyline they will cast the actor that best fits the plot purpose. The chemistry is secondary to the overall plot so I'm not at all surprised that they didn't do a chemistry read. Their chemistry isn't the point. The storyline he was cast for is the point. In this case the plot purpose is Buck and Eddie. Eddie told Buck him being bi wouldn't change anything between the two of them when in reality everything is going to change. That is the point. Oliver's chemistry with Lou isn't relevant in any way.

I would not look too hard for him in any BTS. And I know you won't believe this but I think that is for your benefit. Why give you anything that may lead you to believe he's anything other than a plot point? They shouldn't include him. It's not realistic. And feeds into something that has already been taken way out of context. Lastly, Oliver does have an agenda. He always has. He always offers counter programming to the canon. It will not change unless the canon becomes Buddie. He has been this way from the beginning. And he doesn't owe anyone an apology for that.

Thank you so much Nonny. As always, much appreciated.

*sigh*

I really feel like everyone should just give Ali a break here. She has explained this over a 1000 times already. How many times does she need to repeat it?

I agree with all of this.

Also, that article was blunt and in your face. Tim brought up Eddie when talking about BT, which is something the show has done since day one by the way. Eddie has ALWAYS been involved in this storyline and he will continue to become even more important in this storyline, because the whole purpose of BT was always Buddie.

IMPORTANT! Please don't repost this ask and/or a link that leads straight to my Tumblr account on Twitter or any other social media. Thank you!

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If you are interested in more of Ali’s posts, you can find all of her posts so far under the tag: anonymous blog I love.