#rose riot answers

[rose-riot-johnson]

May I please request headcanons for Shanks, Sanji, and Ace reacting to their female S/O who's captain of her own crew being betrayed by one of her crewmates which greatly affects her since it causes most of her crew to die?

I will definitely see what can do with writing about them, since the request does sound interesting to write about😁👍 While I have written about Sanji before the other two I haven't, it sounds like good ideas for the request😃👍

🏴‍☠️His Reaction To His Female S/O Captain, (Female Reader) Being Betrayed By Someone Who Was One Of Her Crewmates🏴‍☠️(Every One Piece Character That is Requested For This Head Cannon fanfic x female reader)

Genres: Head Cannon(?) and Angst To Comfort (Warning⚠️: Trigger Warning (Mentions Of Murder))

⭐New Character For Me to Write About⭐

Shanks

*When Shanks first found out you were betrayed by one of your crewmates who has murdered most of your crew, he was actually shocked about it, however he tries his best to keep his cool. So, he decided to focus on you, your crew, your wounds, and your well-being. After all he figured it's the least he can do for you, even tough he's willing to do more than that for you.

*Shanks made his decision to have his crew (and himself) to stay in the village he bumped into you in, after the attack the crew member who betrayed you and your whole crew. He knew you blamed yourself for not seeing the traitor who's attack you never saw coming, which is why he assigned the rest of his crew to take care of the crew members who are still alive that he assigned his crew members to, while he assigned himself to take care of your wounds and well-being. He didn't assign himself with you just because you're his s/o, however he is also a captain of his crew just, as well as you are of your crew, plus he felt it's his job to take care of your wounds and well-being, after all.

*As time went by with Shanks taking care of your wounds and well-being (by frequent reassurance that nothing was your fault and you couldn't have known that the crew member who betrayed you would be a traitor of your crew and other stuff he reassured you with), the progress of your physical healing and the healing of your well-being has been going much better than he could ever expect. He knew you would heal with your wounds and your well-being, however he's surprised things went better than he thought. You confessed to him that you believe that it was his words and how he took care of your wounds helped you heal quickly, then you would thank him for taking great care of you and giving you reassurance often, as both you and Shanks hugged eachother, as the rest of his crew and the remaining members of your crew who are still alive, cheered with glee while celebrating your recovery.

Sanji

*When it comes to someone betraying your crew (and the crew member who turned out to be the traitor himself killing the most of your crew), Sanji is someone who be very upset. He will feel sad for you, considering you are is s/o. He also will be outraged that one of your crew members betraying the rest of your crew (you, included). Despite of Sanji not being a captain of his own crew, he does have negative mixed emotions (from sadness to anger) about your crew being betrayed by someone who was not only your crew mate, however this crew mate who is the traitor was also some you have trusted the most out of your crewmates of your own crew, which Sanji is aware of more than anyone else surprisingly.

*Sanji and Luffy both happily agreed on have you the the remaining members of your crew who are still alive stay on "The Sunny" (The Strawhat crew's ship), as long as you and the remaining crew members left alive need to and/or stuff like that. You (ofcourse) will be in the same room, as Sanji, because of the fact you are his s/o, so this will definitely help you with your well and he will be able to comfort you easier with more time together. There will be plenty of times where Sanji will prepare meals to surprise you and the remaining crew members (who are still alive), because your crew definitely enjoys his cooking, however you love his cooking the most. So, needless to say that he really wants to take care of your well-being and to feed you and the rest of your crew who are still alive.

*Sanji knew you and the remaining members of your crewmates who are still alive would be happy about his cooking and feel better from eating his food, however he is also surprised that everytime you and the other crew members who are still alive eat his cooking, you and the living members of your become more happier, as if the food has has some magic powers to heal your well-being (and the well-being of the rest of your crewmates who are alive). Tony Tony Chopper explained to Sanji, the rest of the Strawhats, you, and your crew members who are still alive about the ingredients that was in Sanji's cooking and how Sanji cooked the food has helped with your well-being for some reason. You and Sanji both were surprised the most about what his cooking did for your well-being, despite of the ingredients Sanji put in his cooking, what he put in the food, and you enjoying his cooking, while feeling more happier from eating his cooking, than you (and Sanji) expected.

⭐New Character For Me To Write About⭐

Portagas D. Ace

*Out the three, Ace knows what it's like for his crew (His Captain Edward Newgate, aka White Beard in the very same crew, as Ace) to have a crewmate betrayed by a crewmate, while having that same crewmate who turned out to be a traitor kill any of the other crewmates in his crew. After all, he definitely remembers full well Marshall D. Teach, aka Black Beard betrayed the White Beard Pirate crew when Teach killed Thatch for Teach to get his devil fruit powers from eating the devil fruit called the "Dark-Dark Fruit". So, ofcourse Ace would be very angry at the crewmate who betrayed your crew to the point he really was about to avenge you (and the rest of your crew due to your crew being betrayed.

*Despite of Ace not being captian of the White Beard Pirates and you being the captain of your crew, he most definitely has empathy for you. Even tough he wants to get revenge on the crewmate who betrayed you and anyone else in your crew, your safe and your well-being would most certainly come first (and the remaining crew members left alive, also). So, if he does see you emotionally breakdown or trying to hold your emotions in or both or maybe anything similar to both, he will comfort you the best way he possibly can and he will hug you when you need it. He definitely knows when things are bothering you, especially on how much being betrayed by one of the crewmates you did have betray the rest of your crew (including, you).

*Ace will come snuggle with you often, as your snuggle time with him will comfort you by alot, however he is also someone who will also keep an eye on you alot (he will also check on the rest of your crew who are left alive), atleast until your well-being recovers to the point where he wouldn't have to worry about you, as much (even tough he still will, anyways) and where you are becoming yourself again. Not only the rest of the crew you have left and Ace will notice the difference with you in a good way, however you will also notice that you and your well-being has been healing more and more each day. Despite this Ace will also keep checking on you to makesure your well-being keeps getting better and staying better (and it's also out of his love for you and you being his s/o).

🏴‍☠️The End🏴‍☠️

Okay my Tumblr Peeps I hope you enjoyed this One Piece head cannon(?) fanfic🏴‍☠️😃👍And @sacredwarrior88 I also hope you enjoyed the fanfic, as well😁👍I really enjoyed writing this One Piece head cannon fanfic(?), honestly😃👍

[hexellent]

"Icons only + Abs" ~ All muses

@cxffeeshxp // Icon Only!

[laurrns]

TAGS.

[oncomingnight]

yandere! Scientist

Hello everyone, thank you so much for all of your support on my previous stories. I was extremely excited about writing this specific piece because it's sort of based on movie that's set to come out real soon. I hope you enjoy and feel free to send requests/speak to me in my ask box.

You met Seán while you were both freshmen in highschool. you noticed he was relatively quieter than everybody else in the classroom. He was the most knowledgeable student in that damned classroom, he was just stealthy about it. The two of you really got to know each other when you were selected as partners, selected based on the similarity of your scores, percentages and your ability to learn certain subjects.

Even after the project was finished and graded, the two of you still kept speaking to each other. The reason for that was because he was absolutely and undeniably in love with you. It took awhile for it to click into your head that he was attracted to you, but when you finally realized, you couldn't be more ecstatic.

He confessed to you at the beginning of your sophomore year. Whilst you were putting some of your belongings into your locker, he showed up behind you with blood red roses in his hand, along with a comically large basket of gifts. A tea-stained letter was nestled into the folds of one of the roses, inside of it was him expressing just how happy you've made him for the past year. How he wants your love reserved for him and him alone.

"Hello, Y/n, I'm sorry to have caught you off guard. You don't have to say anything until after I'm done talking but I have to tell you now because it'll do no good to either of us to just have this rot within me. You've been the subject of my love and utter adoration for...oh, dear...it's been so long I've now forgotten. But, I'll have you believe that I have never and will never forget how sublime you make me feel. Every time I think of you, I can't help but smile and think of our potential future together. Y/n, I wish so desperately to take care of you, touch you, kiss you, to hear my name on your lips for the rest of time, only if you'll let me. Now I'm ready, what do you think?"

You were absolutely stunned to hear such profound declarations of love fall from his lips, even more so when the declarations were about you.

You stood there with your bouquet of prickly roses, woven basket full of all you took joy in. You opened your dry mouth and said, "I can't believe you said all that about me. All of this is so beautiful, Seán. So, what do I think? I'm not sure what I think but I know I want to be your girlfriend."

After high school, he immediately got down on one knee to ask you if you'd be forever his woman. His wife. Of course, your answer was a tearful 'yes' as you blubbered about how much you loved him and about how so happy you were.

Highschool sweethearts!

You've always known about his appreciation for science and his interest to pursue a career in that topic. You can only imagine just how thrilled he was when he got a position in a government facility with the job he's always fought for. He picked you up and swirled you around, causing you to become temporarily dizzy as you giggled at his enthusiasm. Seán doused your hot and flustered cheeks with kisses as he smiled at your precious laugh.

He was so glad he'd managed to get a PhD and job in something that would make him enough money to take care of the both of you, but, mostly you. He was so appreciative to you for staying with him for all these years, always his perfect girl, always so supportive, always giving him beyond helpful ideas + advice. You were perfect.

Eventually, the world was struck with a variety of struggles, mainly caused by powerful political figures that simply did not agree with each other. Many people were caught in the crossfire, protests began being organized, riots ensuing right outside of government buildings. What followed all of these events? Well, the only reasonable answer. War.

Because of this, your husband was called into office and put into a group of other physics scientists. They claimed they needed a defense weapon in case of everyone being put into a harmful and treacherous situation. Seán was made the head man of the project.

This worried you to the fullest extent, maybe you were being dramatic but your husband's position in the project could make him a direct target. When you shared your thoughts with him he couldn't help but give you a small endearing smile.

"you've always been a worrisome woman, haven't you? Nothing will happen to you or to us. I'll make sure of it, I'm benefiting them by building this damned thing, they wouldn't dare let anything disrupt our life, m'kay?"

"Seán, I'm not worried about me. I'm worried about you. Yes, you're benefiting them which is exactly why you'd be in danger."

"I can take care of myself, mo mhuirnín dílis. You've witnessed it, no? Don't worry yourself any longer."

Now, you may be wondering what he's talkin' about. Well, don't worry I'll tell you.

Seán had taken you with him to visit the small fishing town he had grown up in. After eating a delicious meal with your in-laws, Seán was invited by some old friends to go out and drink at an old and creaky pub. They have been asking to meet you and this was a chance for him to show you off to everyone in town, so, he accepted.

The night remained still and calm, despite the occasional roar of laughter that would occur at the table. It was fun, you were so glad Seán took you out to see where he was gifted with life.

But then

As you headed towards the friendly barmaid to make an order of crisps for everyone seated at the table. As you waited to be handed your order, a ragged young man that looked incredibly haggard for his age due to all of the alcohol approached you. You were sure he was just going to request assistance in catching a cab as he looked far too intoxicated to do it on his own. But no. He just wanted some action.

He pushed himself onto you with his flirtatious words but after you rejected him, you had angered him to an extreme point. He gripped your arm hard enough to bruise and spoke into your face with a horrid stench on his tongue.

"Now why won't you just shut your little mouth and please a man, hm?" He grinned maliciously.

Suddenly, you saw a quick flash of a fist show in your vision, not expecting it to be Seán punching the man with all the force he had in his slim yet firm body. All it took was one hit for the man to be on the ground, passed out. Yet, Seán didn't stop there and he wouldn't have stopped if his friend hadn't yanked him off the man. He was slamming his knuckles onto the man's pale face until it was almost fully covered in a crimson red.

You'd never seen him act in such a rabid way but you weren't angry at him. He was just protecting you. In an extremely visceral and self incriminating way. He didn't care, he's done far worse in defense of you but those were things he'd done in secret.

You were already far aware of how protective he could get and how emotional he was when it came to you. Someone could say something harmful about you and he'd mutter under his breath in anger, digging his nails into the palm of his hands, and eventually kiss your forehead before leaving the house to go do what he knew needed to be done.

When the two of you were intimate he'd cry at times while expressing his incredibly deep affection for you. He loved seeing you like this, furrowed brows, flushed cheeks, your huffs and puffs when he teased you. "I'd kill for you, y-you know that, yeah? Oh, A mhuirnín, I'd do anything for you. Absolutely anything."

There comes a lot of stress with his job, at times he'd return from work and burrow his head into your tummy, wrapping his firm arms around your waist. No matter how many times he messages you during work, no matter how many times he re-reads the letter you left him in his lunch, no matter how many times he calls you, he'll always yearn for your touch.

You lift his face from your stomach and remove his glasses, ruffling his dark curls after doing so. Your thumb gently swipes over his cheek, before leaning in and giving him a deep kiss. He melts into your touch and gives you a love-drunk smile.

His perfect girl.

The both of you would go on the loveliest getaway trips when he was able to take a break from work. You'd go to a restaurant and he'd hold your chin as he gently fed you pieces from the pasta you'd ordered, giving you time to chew and swallow.

When in clothing stores, he'd wait outside of the changing room on a cushioned seat, waiting to see his wife's lovely face and figure. He would never let you look at the price tags as that would discourage you from buying what you'd like, he didn't want that.

Seán has a habit of overworking himself to sketch out the building plans for the project he was assigned, he needed it to be perfect. This could change the future and if there even was a possibility that there'd be a future. You'd walk into his office, seeing his hooked nose being beautifully lit by the candle on his desk. He took a sip of his Bushmills whiskey before turning to look at you with eyes full of admiration. "You have to eat something, surely you know that. Plus, I made it so you have to eat it or else I'll get upset."

He's obviously very well known in the science world, I mean, his creation will determine the outcome of society. He's bound to get some recognition. People have come to be obsessed with the relationship the two of you have and the story of your love. Every photograph people see of the two of you, Seán is turned towards you with the most love sick look of them all. In photographs where he's alone, he may as well be the most stoic man in the world.

People would post slideshows of the two of you together and caption it with something along the lines of:

'me and him'

Others in the comments would practically point and laugh at the person with responses of:

'you wish.' 'y'all aren't that important ' 'try again' 'interesting 🧐.' 'Can you be serious...?'

This man is the most serious man in the entire universe when he's at work and surrounded with his partners. But, when he's alone with you? He's nuzzling his cheek into your chest, kissing all over you, kissing your hand, hugging you from behind, THE WHOLE NINE YARDS.

Seán is the type of husband to pick up your coffee + bakery order to wake you up with, leaves you gifts and notes to find around the house, takes you to the most wonderful places anyone could ever go to.

He's so glad he made someone like you his wife.

Forever :).

[hisui-dreamer]

hiii rinna!!! congratulations on 2k!!!!!! ˃ᴗ˂ 🫶🫶🫶🎉🎉🎉🎉agsgsh I hope I'm not too late ^^"

can I request silver with white rose? :D

foolish decisions in blossoming love

Pairing: Silver x gn!reader

Synopsis: in getting one bouquet for a friend, you ended up getting another bouquet for a stranger

Tags: meet cute, fluff, florist au, reader is just really flustered

Word count: 1.1k+

Notes: you're not late at all kei, im the one who's late ⊙⁠﹏⁠⊙ i hope silver fluff makes up for it!!

Masterlist

flower of choice: white roses

white roses represent pure love, indicating that you are willing to sacrifice your all for your love

The bell tinkled gently as you pushed open the door to the quaint flower shop. Stepping inside, you were immediately enveloped in a symphony of fragrances, the sweet aroma of fresh blooms mingling with the earthy scent of potted plants. The air was alive with vitality, as if each petal and leaf whispered secrets of beauty and renewal.

Your gaze swept over the charming interior, your eyes drinking in the riot of colours and shapes that adorned every corner of the shop. A kaleidoscope of blossoms greeted you, their vibrant hues dancing in the soft, golden light that filtered through the windows. It was a scene straight out of a painting, a sanctuary of serenity amidst the bustling city streets.

You caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of your eye, and your attention was drawn to the silver-haired man, positioned behind the counter. His fingers expertly arranged a bouquet with effortless skill, moving with a fluidity that hinted at years of practice. The gentle sunlight bathed his face, creating a soft halo around his silhouette.

Your heart skipped a beat as you beheld him, and your breath momentarily caught in your throat. There was an ethereal quality to his presence, reminiscent of a fairy straight out of a storybook.

"Excuse me," you finally managed to murmur, your voice barely above a whisper as you stood before him, spellbound by his presence.

He looked up, his purple-blue eyes meeting yours with a softness that sent shivers down your spine. "Hello there," he replied, a smile gracing his lips. "How may I help you?"

Your mind cleared momentarily, focusing on the reason you came here. "I’m looking to buy a bouquet," you said, your voice steadier now. “My friend hasn't been feeling well lately. I thought some flowers might brighten their day.”

He nodded sympathetically, understanding the sentiment.

“I see… Is there a particular type they like?”

"Not particularly. I just want something to lift their spirits," you answered earnestly.

With a gentle nod, he considered your words, his fingers tracing over the petals of various blooms thoughtfully. “Perhaps a bouquet of lilies," he suggested, his eyes alight with inspiration. "Lilies are often associated with purity and success, making them a perfect choice to wish for a successful recovery."

You hummed at his words, a sense of wonder dawning on your face. "I didn’t know flowers carried messages…" you mumbled curiously.

He smiled warmly, appreciating your interest. "Yes, the language of flowers has been used for centuries to convey sentiments and emotions. Each flower has its own unique symbolism, allowing us to express our feelings in a beautiful and meaningful way," he explained, his passion for flowers shining through in his words.

As you watched him speak, you found yourself drawn to the grace with which he moved, the way his fingers delicately caressed each petal as if coaxing out its hidden secrets. There was something about the warmth in his eyes, the sincerity in his voice, that stirred your soul. You found yourself hanging onto his every word, entranced by the depth of his passion.

It was irrational of you to be so affected by a stranger. You wanted to stay in his presence, to bask in the light of his warmth and kindness for as long as you possibly could. In that fleeting moment, you found yourself inexplicably attached to him, drawn to him in a way that defied all logic and reason.

In an effort to hear him talk more, to hear his calming voice longer, you pointed to a delicate white rose, meekly asking, "What does this one mean?

His eyes crinkled as he smiled gently. "White roses symbolize pure love."

Your heart skipped a beat once again, the meaning of the flower resonating deeply within you. "Pure love," you murmured, lost in thought for a moment. 

“I’ll be right back,” Silver said, breaking you out of your thoughts as he disappeared into the back of the shop with some lilies, leaving you alone with your thoughts and your infatuation towards the gentle florist. You was barely gone for five minutes, but you already missed him, wanting to spend more time with him, to learn more about the stories that lay hidden behind his kind eyes and warm demeanour.

But how could you make it more natural? How could you bridge the gap between customer and florist? The answer eluded you, but you knew that you couldn't let this opportunity slip away.

"Here we are," Silver said, a sense of satisfaction in his voice as he walked back to your side. "I hope it brings comfort and cheer to your friend."

Your eyes shimmered with gratitude as you beheld the finished arrangement. "It’s beautiful…," you breathed, your voice filled with awe. "Thank you. I'm sure they’ll love it."

Silver’s smile brightened at your words, and you felt a surge of courage welling up inside you. With a timid yet determined voice, you finally voiced the words that had been lingering on your tongue. "If it’s alright, I'd like to request another too."

His brows furrowed slightly, a flicker of curiosity crossing his features. "Another bouquet?"

You nodded, bashfulness colouring your cheeks. "Yes, one with white roses, please."

A flash of disappointment crossed his face before he quickly put on a polite smile. “Of course, please wait a moment,” before disappearing in the back again.

A pang of sadness tugged at his heart as he meticulously prepared the delicate white roses. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment knowing that you already had someone in your life whom you wanted to dedicate pure love to. Despite his efforts to hide it, a faint shadow crossed his features as he arranged the flowers with practised care, his thoughts momentarily clouded by a hint of longing.

But as he showed you the completed bouquet, his feelings of melancholy were quickly replaced by a surge of warmth, your genuine appreciation for his assistance washing away any lingering sadness.

You swiftly settled the payment for both bouquets, your heart pounding with anticipation as you gathered your courage. With a determined breath, you reached out and delicately handed Silver the bouquet of white roses. His eyes met yours, a confused expression flickering across his features as he awaited your next move.

"Silver," you began, your voice trembling slightly yet resolute, "these are for you." As the words slipped from your lips, a rush of uncertainty engulfed you, but you pushed through, driven by the intensity of your emotions. "They represent... what I feel for you."

Embarrassment flooded your senses as the rational side of you chastised the idiocy of giving flowers to a florist. Could you be any more embarrassing?

Hastily, you uttered, "Thank you for your help! I hope I’ll see you more often!" Leaving behind a note bearing your number, you made a swift exit with the lilies, the jingle of the bell marking your departure.

But had you lingered for just a moment longer, you would have witnessed a rosy blush blossoming across the florist's cheeks and spreading down his neck, a loving smile spreading across his face.

Masterlist

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!

[slutforsilverfoxes]

What Happens in New York…

You took in a deep breath as soon as you crossed through the back door of the restaurant and into the parking lot, arms outstretched while you enjoyed the brisk New York air, and declared, “I gotta get me a new job.”

“What?” Sean, your best friend and roommate of several years, taunted from behind you, making up for your head start in a few long strides. “Waiting on rich people not cutting it for you anymore?”

“Waiting on rich, crusty old white men and their wives who seem to drop in age each year isn’t cutting it anymore,” you corrected his statement. “Now gimme that helmet,” you demanded with grabby fingers. “I wanna go home, watch Marvel movies, and finish that bottle of wine we opened on Monday.”

“Speaking of old white men,” the blonde started with a laugh, tossing you your helmet before sitting astride his motorcycle and strapping his own on, “my brother’s in town. Mind if I stop by to say hi?”

“Ah, yes, the G-man,” you nodded all-knowingly, tucking your legs up under you and getting settled behind Sean’s lithe body. “Is he seeing anyone?” Sean purposefully revved the bike and pretended like he couldn’t hear you, so you tapped aggressively on his visor until he turned to give you the stink eye. “I said is he seeing anyone, you dick?”

“What’s it to you, huh?”

“Well, the way you describe him, he’s probably got a nice pension and benefits going with all the hours he works. I could make a cute housewife!”

“Funny,” your best friend deadpanned. He used his foot to raise the kickstand before guiding the bike out to the main road. “Too bad for him, ‘cause you’re my cute housewife.”

“Gross.”

His ensuing laughter got lost in the New York traffic.

—————

“Do you wanna come in with me?” Sean asked as you hopped off the bike and stretched your legs outside of the precinct.

“Nah,” you shook your head in response and pulled out your phone. “You go ahead and see big bro. I’m taking full advantage of my allotted yard time.”

The blonde rolled his eyes and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “You’re a riot. Be back soon.”

“Don’t get in a fight,” you called out lazily amid a yawn, breathing in the cold winter air to ward off your exhaustion.

Several minutes later, you were scrolling idly through your phone while you waited for your friend, leaning against his bike for support and stifling yet another yawn when the hairs at the nape of your neck stood at attention, and you suddenly felt the clarity of alertness.

“Hey there,” a voice called out from nearby, and you studiously ignored the lackluster greeting. It was followed by a whistle that was evidently supposed to woo you, and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes, stuffing one hand into your pocket and letting out a disgruntled noise when you weren’t rewarded by your headphones. “This your bike, little lady?”

“Why, you in the market?” you barked back, finally raising your gaze to meet that of an NYPD officer.

“Maybe I am,” he responded with a smile that set you even more on edge. “Wanna take me for a test ride?” His buddy behind him laughed at the innuendo, and this time you did roll your eyes.

“Hard pass.”

“C’mon, baby, you look like you could use some fun in your life,” he continued, and when he took a step closer, your hackles rose. Deciding that my best friend’s brother is an FBI agent wasn’t going to cut it, you answered coolly, “My boyfriend’s an FBI agent working in your office up there, and I don’t think he’d take kindly to you propositioning me outside your precinct. Honor and integrity and all that, right?” You forced your mouth into a smile that dropped when the officer removed the badge pinned to his jacket.

“I’m off the clock, sweetheart. And I don’t see your boyfriend anywhere.”

“Turn around.”

The rumble of an unfamiliar voice had you looking over the officer’s head to find the frowning visage of a handsome brunette with striking features. Sean came to your side protectively, murmuring, “Hey, you okay?” as the officer turned to look up at the imposing older Hotchner and stammered, “I’m- I’m sorry, I didn’t know she was with you.”

The brunette tilted his head to one side and narrowed his eyes, and the air around him positively crackled with power. Quietly, he challenged, “And why should that matter?” As the officer opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water, he took a step closer and dropped his voice even lower. “Go home to your wife, Officer-” His eyes darted over to the name tag before continuing, “-McNally, and be ready for a disciplinary hearing at some point this week, because I will be speaking to your supervisor directly.”

He nodded deferentially, refusing to make eye contact, and tried to scurry away, but Sean’s older brother barked, “Officer McNally! Isn’t there something you’d like to say to my girlfriend?”

“Sorry!” he called sheepishly, heat rising to his cheeks despite the chill outside. “Sorry, ma’am, won’t happen again.��

Sean and his brother watched until the officer and his friend had turned the corner, then directed their attention to you. “I hope that wasn’t your introduction to New York’s finest,” the older Hotchner remarked with a frown, holding his hand out to you. “I’m Aaron. Your boyfriend, apparently,” he tacked on, lips twitching to fight a smile.

A blush crept across your cheeks as you took his hand. “Y/N, Sean’s best friend. Sorry about all…that,” you said through a laugh, gesturing broadly at the scene that had just taken place.

“Please don’t apologize. It’s nice to be name dropped for a good reason,” Aaron responded warmly, this time allowing his mouth to turn upward in a genuine smile. Sean coughed pointedly beside you and you hurried to pull your hand from his brother’s grip, your face growing even warmer at the realization you’d been standing there holding his hand for several seconds like an absolute buffoon.

“Home, Sean- we should- gotta go,” you stammered out, wincing at your brain literally short circuiting from a single touch.

“Wow,” Sean breathed out through a laugh. “You actually broke her, Aaron.” Turning to you, he faux-whispered, “So you really do have a thing for older guys?”

“Woah, hey!” You yell to be heard through laughter in the present. “You did not say that,” you call your best friend on his bullshit, pointing a fork threateningly in his direction. Aaron gently lowers your wrist as you continue, “And I wasn’t that awestruck, okay? He was handsome, but I wasn’t like, drooling, guys, c’mon-”

“Maybe just a little,” your fiancé teases, eyes widening playfully when you turn the silverware on him next.

“Derek.” You turn to Aaron’s friend and declare, “You’re getting upgraded to best man and young Hotchner over there is being relegated to flower girl.”

Sean winks at you from his temporary spot on the floor where he’s regaling your friends and families with the story of how he introduced you two- at least, his version of the story. “Just so you know, I happen to look cute in a dress.”

“Have some more champagne, honey,” Aaron instructs with a smile as he refills your flute. You dutifully take a sip and mumble around the glass, “You’re not giving this speech tomorrow, Sean.”

“Speech?” Your best friend barks out a laugh, and you narrow your eyes at him in suspicion. “Baby girl, I’ve got a whole PowerPoint documenting your journey into the family, don’t you worry. Pictures and everything.”

“Aaron,” you whine. “Make it stop.”

“You really know how to pick ‘em,” Aaron laughs before pressing a kiss to your pouting lips.

“Clearly,” you grumble. “You Hotchner men will be the death of me.”

—————

[A/N: Why did I write this? Who’s to say? I love a lil brother vibe, might have to explore more of Sean’s bff as Aaron’s girl 👀 Hope somebody enjoyed this crack]

AH tags 🖤 @gothwifehotchner

[luveline]

baby blurb of steve buying the reader flowers b she just gets a little teary bc no boy has ever bought her flowers before <3333

this turned into a whole thing, idiots in love, soft steve etc <3 fem!reader | 1.1k words

Steve is kicking his shoes against the door. You can hear it, the thud of rubber against wood. He’s in the habit of knocking with his foot rather than his hand because his hands are always full. Usually of snacks, sometimes with takeout, occasionally slurpees. Treats.

You’re surprised your mouth doesn’t water with the sound. You spring up off the couch where you’d been waiting for him and race to the front door, pausing for a second to feign that you’re entirely unbothered by his arrival before pulling it open.

Steve’s hands are full. One hand holds a takeout bag from your favourite place, the brown paper already translucent with grease, and the other…

“Hey, sweetheart,” he says, grinning.

Your eyes flit from his face — beautiful as ever, his deep set eyes dark and lifted by his charming smile, his perfect hair kissing the skin of his jaw where it’s come untucked — to the bouquet in his hand.

You’re honestly lost for words.

“Can I come in?” he asks.

You duck back silently and let him. Your house is silent in wait for his arrival and he fills it up, a riot of small sounds: the crinkle of cellophane and paper, his jacket, his shoes, his socked footsteps into your kitchen. He puts the flowers down with about as much care as he does the takeout, which horrifies you. You don’t have time to fret as he turns on his heel, little urgency in his actions as he extends his arms hopefully.

You’re still shell-shocked at the flowers. He hasn’t said they’re for you — but they’re for you. Right? They’re not for the mailman.

“What, guy can’t get a kiss? Jeez,” Steve mutters, mostly joking.

There’s a hint of self-consciousness that you despise and set about stamping out, stepping into the reach of his arms. Before he can move down you raise your hand to the curve of his cheek, his face shape so pretty it aches to look at, the hill under his eye a must to touch. You stroke the back of your pinky and marriage finger over his cheekbone and tuck that stray lock of hair behind his ear, a terrible well of emotion building in you at his adoring expression.

You imagine you look the same as you tilt your chin up for a kiss. Your eyes stay open as he closes his to watch his lashes pinch together, his lips pressing to yours. It’s an intimate softness, a warmth you always miss even if the time between kisses is small. Minutes can feel like years when you want him, and you always do.

He tucks his chin back and frowns at you mildly. “What?”

You don’t answer.

“Do you still have a back ache?” he asks knowingly, hands running carefully up the length of your spine, pulling you ever closer. His eyes lift from concerned to smug. “You’re hungry.”

The loss of his arms is abrupt and unfair. You’re one step behind him as he picks up the flowers again and offers them to you, almost forcing them into your hands.

“Those are for you, beautiful. Put ‘em in some water while I get the plates, okay?”

He moves through your kitchen like he knows it well, and he does, retrieving dishware and cutlery with practiced movements, huffing to himself about something or other as he goes.

All you can do is stare. You peer down at the flowers in your hands. The bouquet is made up primarily of pinks. Pink and red roses, cerise carnations, pale baby chrysanthemums and germini’s made up of tens of shades. The roses overpower every other scent, musky, a hidden sweetness.

They’re from Bradley’s Big Buy, the tiny section by the newspapers and magazines. There’s a simple tag wrapped around the stems that reads, ‘Young Love (Pink)’.

You feel your lip tremble and bite down hard. A vast array of emotions surface and all of them burn as you bring the flowers to your nose and sniff. Your sniff turns to a sniffle, and your eyes grow heavy with sudden tears.

A plate falls to the table. “What’s the matter?”

You look up and find Steve slack-jawed with a spoon in his grip. He drops it in favour of striding towards you and taking your face into his hand, his palm flat to your cheek. “Is it your back?”

“No,” you murmur pathetically.

Steve rubs away a rogue tear before it can traverse the bump of your cheek. “Let’s sit down. You should’ve said. I can go over to Bradley’s again and get you some more Tylenol.”

“It’s not- Steve. Thank you for the flowers,” you say. Your ‘thank you’ sounds stretched, tenuous. You smile and your cheeks apple, prompting another fat tear to tip.

Steve looks horrified. “Sure, babe. Of course. You like them, huh?”

You wrap one of your arms around him and bury your face in his chest, needing to be closer than close.

“You’re crying about the flowers?” he asks, voice a murmur.

You nod, feeling his hand cup the back of your neck.

“This reaction makes me think I need to get you them more often.”

“Nobody’s ever got me flowers before.”

“No?” He pushes his chin over the crown of your head. “Lucky me, to be the first.”

You start laughing. “My first,” you repeat.

His arms tighten. Cellophane crinkles between you. “Oh,” he says, voice warm with fondness. “You perv. Here, give ‘em back. I don’t get flowers for sickos.”

You hold them as far away from him as possible. He chuckles and hugs you and eventually you pull away from him to stare some more at the assortment of blossoms, enamoured.

Unbeknownst to you, Steve is looking at you the same way — entirely besotted. Sick with it. He shakes his head and returns to your quickly cooling food, though he can’t help glancing at you from time to time as you trim the stems and set them in a vase.

You rub a delicate petal between your fingers distractedly.

“Come eat something,” he says.

You nod and drift to his side, looking over your shoulder as if checking they're still there. He promises to himself to get you another bunch, and another, as many as it takes for the novelty to wear off.

[queerofthedagger]

all this growth and this decay

[Steddie | T+ | 2,9k | ao3]

you will open your wounds / and make them a garden —Wale Ayinla

One of the weirder things in the aftermath of hell dimensions and surviving by the skin of his teeth is seeing Steve Harrington kneel in the middle of a flowerbed, elbow-deep in soil.

Eddie watches him for a little longer than he probably should; the methodical movements of his hands, hair pushed back carelessly, the skin revealed by the loose tank top that, frankly, should not be doing it as much for Eddie as it does.

Sue him; he survived the apocalypse, so he might as well enjoy the aftermath.

“If you’re determined on staring, Munson, at least hand me the hose, will you?” Steve says without turning around, not sounding too bothered about it. Eddie’s still glad that the sticky summer heat hides the flush that rises to his cheeks at having been caught.

“What are you doing anyway?” he asks, once he nudges Steve with the hose and drops down to sit next to him on the warm stone.

Beyond the property, the forest is humming with the August afternoon, everything bright and languid and achingly peaceful.

“If the bushes aren’t taken care of regularly—“

“Not that,” Eddie cuts in with a huff of laughter. “Why are you gardening in the first place? Didn’t exactly take you for the homey type.”

Steve cuts a glance at him, all raised brow and judgmental twist to his mouth. “What, not metal enough for you? Expecting me to chew on Demobats in my free time?”

“Yikes, don’t say that. You know what I mean.”

Steve shrugs, all casual, and scans the rose he has been working on as if it is the most fascinating thing in the world.

Eddie looks at Steve the same way, so perhaps it is a good thing that Steve isn’t looking back.

“Do you know what a pain rose bushes are if you let them run riot?”

Eddie doesn’t; if anyone had asked him ten minutes ago if he thought that Steve Harrington might have the answer, he would have laughed.

Which, really, is probably on him; the last couple of months should have gotten him used to Steve constantly flipping the script on him.

“Still, didn’t expect you to do it yourself,” he says, watching the careful way Steve’s hands push the soil into place.

Steve shrugs, still not looking at Eddie. “It’s nice. I don’t mind.”

It’s the way he says it, quiet and a little tired; or perhaps it’s the way he brushes his fingers over the dark green leaves, his expression oddly pensive. Or, perhaps, it’s all Eddie reading into things—in the end, it doesn’t really matter.

In the end, he watches as Steve waters the rose bushes, careful not to wet the leaves, and chews on the feeling that the explanation he has been given covers only the smallest part of it.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t explain why Hawkins High’s former king suddenly took up gardening; fortunately, Eddie has always liked a bit of a riddle.

---

For the most part, Eddie does not, in fact, think too much about it. Between navigating Hawkins and its continued animosity, the kids, and his ever-growing crush, it isn’t exactly among the top ten things he has on his mind.

He’s reminded of it once October rolls around, the days golden and cool in the evenings.

He spends most of his time at the Harrington residence these days, some nights with Robin, others—most—only the two of them, talking and watching movies and spinning fantastical plans for a future that Eddie still struggles to believe he is allowed to have.

It’s a rainy afternoon, the first real cold one of the season, when he arrives after his physical therapy. Truth be told, the main reason he still goes at all is that Max would never forgive him if he quit, and he still hasn’t learned how to say no to her in the slightest.

The house lies quiet and dim when he lets himself in, which is unusual in itself. For the briefest second, panic wants to climb up his spine, but he pushes it down. Takes a deep breath and walks through the foyer into the living room, and the air still trips out of his lungs with relief when he finds the patio door open, curtains billowing.

The rain has slowed to a drizzle, but puddles are scattered across the porch, and the ground beyond is a riot of colors from the maple trees’ leaves.

On the far end, Steve is kneeling in front of the rose bushes, a stack of cut fir branches beside him.

Eddie grimaces at the gray sky and pulls his jacket closer around himself. In the end, his curiosity wins out, though (or, if he’s honest it’s all concern, but these days any pretense about all the godforsaken emotions Steve causes in him is a welcome one, in Eddie’s books. There is only so much a guy can take before he has to have some serious concerns for his own sanity).

“Hey,” Steve says, once Eddie comes up to him. “I didn’t expect you back this early; you can wait inside if you want, no use in us both getting drenched.”

It’s such a Steve thing to say. Eddie’s fingers are itching to run through Steve’s wet hair, to tip his head back. To make him look at Eddie, perhaps become a horrible, pathetic cliché and kiss him right here in the quiet rain.

“What are you doing here anyway?” he asks instead, burying his hands in his pockets.

“Winter-proofing,” Steve says, as if that makes any sense. “They dislike soil frost.”

Eddie blinks. “Okay but—can that not wait until it’s, you know. Not raining?”

It finally gets Steve to look up at him, a small crease between his brows. The hoodie he is wearing is washed out, fraying at the seams, and he looks tired.

Then again, he always does; it is just rare not to see him pretend otherwise.

“It’s impossible to say how far the temperature will drop tonight. Really though, just wait inside, I’ll be done in a moment.”

His hands are dirty with soil, pink with the cold. There are pine needles everywhere, the smell of them mixing with the rain.

By now, Eddie likes to believe that he has come to know Steve fairly well—hell, it would be quite sad if he didn’t, considering how much time they spend in each other’s pockets.

It’s clearly important, he can see that much. It’s clearly something Steve doesn’t necessarily want to explain, although Eddie is mostly sure that he could needle an answer out of him if he tried.

He’s strangely reluctant to do so, though; the thing he doesn’t understand—about the importance of rose bushes, about Steve’s sudden brittleness, about his own hesitation—is why.

It doesn’t stop him from curling a hand around Steve’s shoulder briefly, squeezing. From saying, “Alright, I’ll warm up some food then,” and letting his hand linger for a moment, for just this little bit more warmth, before going back inside, leaving Steve to his garden.

---

Eddie grows used to Steve’s strange affinity for plants, ironically, when winter washes across the land and most of his gardening gets focused on the various indoor plants that somehow, Eddie hasn’t paid much attention to before.

It’s a thing, though, their presence and Steve’s calm care for them; his herbs on the windowsill in the kitchen, thyme and mint, rosemary and sage and basil. The orchids in the living room that seem fickle even to Eddie, and the ivy climbing up the balustrade of the stairs.

It’s a thing, even when Eddie moves from spending the nights in the guest room to spending them in Steve’s bed, legs tangled together, mouth to skin. When still, some nights, he wakes up alone, knowing he missed one of Steve’s nightmares. How he finds him tending to one plant or another, steady hands and quiet voice.

Eddie will wrap his arms around Steve’s waist, those nights, letting the warm weight of his body leaning back against Eddie’s chest calm them both; he still knows that if he asked, Steve would tell him.

These days, it is more a matter of feeling that he should get it than the charm of a riddle, but something about it remains just out of reach.

---

Spring crawls across the land slowly, spindly fingers pushing back against the seemingly ever-lasting gray. All thoughts on gardening aside, Eddie cannot wait—for longer days, for fewer clothes, for all of his, Steve’s, and Robin’s plans that wear titles like Chicago and two-bedroom apartment.

For now, though, March is still struggling to assert itself, and Eddie is picking up Max from physical therapy. She has been getting better, can walk mostly fine without a cane, and the progress of the last couple of months has made her a little lighter, too.

Still, there is some kinship between them about the months they spent listening to Mrs. Parker droning on about exercises and discipline, about the gritted teeth and pulling scar tissue, and how this godforsaken town has never learned to mind its own business.

They are driving down Maple Street, Bowie playing quietly because it’s a compromise they both can live with. It’s a detour, but it’s Wednesday, which means the market stalls downtown are open, which means they are going to get donuts from that one stall that makes them with enough sugar that they can feel their teeth rot in real time.

Eddie pulls into the parking lot and ignores Max as she climbs out of the van—their deal, after all; he doesn’t help, so she lets him pay. If it works, and all that.

It’s busy, which, of course, doesn’t stop people from staring, but they ignore it. Eddie thinks that if there is one thing he would like to leave behind once he finally gets out of this hellhole, it is for Max to let all the small-town bullshit roll right off her.

Eddie’s never mastered it as well as he would have liked, but he has high hopes for her.

They get their donuts—dark chocolate for him, glazed for her—and huddle around one of the bar tables somewhat out of the way.

It’s when he sees it, one of the stalls at the far end of the market. It’s not been around the last couple of months, ever since autumn made Steve cover his garden with branches of fir, but Eddie remembers it from last year.

He nudges Max, keeping his voice casual when he says, “Hey, mind if we stop at the plant stall for a moment?”

“Sure,” she merely says, her grin knowing, and pops the last bit of her donut into her mouth.

There is a reason she’s his favorite, really.

Truth is, Eddie has no fucking clue about plants whatsoever, and until he started being friends with Steve, he did not much care either. He can admit, though, that there is something pretty about it, and perhaps that’s the point; to make that empty house into a bit more of a home, some self-chosen colors amongst whatever nightmarish monster of decoration the elder Harringtons had let lose however long ago.

He runs his fingers over the petals of some tulips when Max says, “Don’t get cut ones.”

Eddie turns to frown at her. “What?”

“Bouquets; he doesn’t like them.”

Under different circumstances, Eddie may have at least tried to pretend that he didn’t know who she was talking about, but he has been turning over the matter of Steve and gardening for well over half a year now. Steve has never been much help, all Eddie’s assumptions that he could simply ask aside, and no matter how much he has turned it over and over, it always felt like he was missing something obvious. Something that he should get.

So, Max remarking upon Steve’s preferences for flowers, of all things, makes any urge to pretend take a backseat.

“Why not? They are less work, aren’t they? Put them in a vase, give them some water—“

“—Watch them die,” she interrupts with a shrug. She isn’t looking at him. “He likes the work, though; to keep them alive, watch them grow.”

And oh. Oh, Eddie is a goddamn idiot, isn’t he, he thinks as his heart stumbles into a violently painful rhythm.

Steve with his nail bat crusty with blood, always jumping in first; Steve, always ready to be the one to pick the fight, kill the monster, do what needs to be done. Offer up his rose-thorned heart to spare everyone else their shreds of remaining innocence.

Eddie swallows the revelation down like burning absinthe, and if Max notices his sudden unsteadiness, she is kind enough to keep it to herself. He asks the old woman inside the stall for her most long-living plant, barely pays attention to the price, and tugs the dragon tree sapling under his arm as he and Max make their way back to the van.

He has no idea yet what to do with this new piece of information, isn’t even sure Steve is aware of why he’s doing this himself. What he does know is this; if he were to love Steve Harrington for the rest of their days, it still would not be enough.

Fuck him if he isn’t going to try, though.

---

When he finds Steve in the kitchen cutting herbs, of all things, he kind of wants to cry, although it would feel rather selfish, all things considered.

So he carefully puts the sapling on the counter and offers Steve a smile when he turns, raising a brow at the plant first, at Eddie second.

Eddie crosses the distance and wraps his arms around Steve’s waist from behind; slips his hands beneath the worn sweater, traces the path of the scars. With his forehead between Steve’s shoulders, he breathes and breathes and breathes.

“Hey, you okay?” Steve asks when the silence stretches. He turns in Eddie’s arms, knife forgotten and hands heartbreakingly gentle on Eddie’s face. “You’re starting to freak me out a bit here, sweetheart.”

Eddie laughs and it comes out wet, but god. God. 

“Difficult to explain,” he says, because damn it, this shouldn’t be about him, this shouldn’t be—

“Try me, then,” Steve counters, mouth quirking.

Eddie loves him so much, it would be enough to grow a garden of its own.

“That’s why you do it, isn’t it?” he says, not making any sense. “The plants, the gardening, taking care of them—something to keep alive, to take care of? To… I don’t know, something good.”

Steve’s brows furrow, his eyes skittering away, through the kitchen, back to Eddie. The afternoon light is soaking tentatively inside, and it has been a long time since Eddie has felt this untethered; he’s not sure why this feels so monumental, only that it does. That he shouldn’t have missed this.

“I’m not sure…” Steve starts, shaking his head, shoulders tensing. “It’s not that deep, honestly, just—“

“Steve.” Eddie’s voice doesn’t break, but it’s a close thing.

Steve sighs. “It’s… Nice. To make something grow for once, you know, instead of…”

“Yeah,” Eddie whispers, his voice rough. He leans his forehead against Steve’s, breathes him in. “Yeah, I think I get it.”

Because he does, is the thing, the same way he has been pouring himself into their relationship, into his friendships with the kids, with Nancy and Robin and Jonathan. The same way he is tired, so tired of destruction and decay; he has no idea how much more true this must ring for Steve.

He still thinks that he should have gotten this sooner, that it should have been obvious, but he doesn’t apologize. Perhaps, in the end, it doesn’t matter, isn’t really about him or them. Either way, Steve seems content enough where he is, breathing slow and even in the dim kitchen, the smell of thyme and sage still lingering.

“So,” Eddie finally says, pulling back just far enough to grin at Steve. “Update for the flat search then, huh? A garden, or at least a balcony; can’t risk having you take up knitting next, my tattered reputation would not survive self-knitted scarves.”

Steve’s laughter is unexpected and bright, his head falling back so that Eddie can trace the familiar spattering of moles. He nuzzles his nose against it, the crook of Steve’s neck his favorite place in the world.

“Christ, but I love you,” Steve murmurs, his voice turning quiet once more.

It isn’t the first time either of them has said it, but Eddie’s heart still jumps and trips all over itself. He takes Steve’s face between his hands, makes sure to hold his gaze. Says, “For what it’s worth, I think we are growing this, too, just fine.”

He kisses Steve before he can answer, but he doesn’t miss when the dragon tree ends up on the windowsill of their bedroom that same night, re-potted and watered with care.

He doesn’t miss the way Steve’s fingers clench into his skin, trembling and desperate, when Eddie whispers, “Good, you are so good, Steve,” a vow pressed into his skin.

Eddie makes a second one—hours later when Steve is long since asleep—that he won’t stop saying it until Steve believes him, too.

[rose-riot-johnson]

May I please request headcanons for Bruce, Damian, and Dick comforting their girlfriend who’s a cop after she has to face a man who kidnapped and tortured her in court?

I definitely will write about this request about Bruce, Damien, and Dick😁👍And for the rest the request I definitely will see what I can do with writing these ideas down😃

🦇His Concern For You After The Incident You Went Through🦇(All Characters in this fanfic x Female Reader)⭐All Characters Who Are In This Fanfic Are New For Me To Write About (And are all adults)⭐

Genres: Comfort and Possible Fluff (Trigger Warnings⚠️: Possible Mentions of Death, Mentions Trauma, Torcher, Wounds, and Kidnapped)

Bruce Wayne (Batman)

*Bruce is someone who may appear tough, however he does have a soft side for you, especially with everything (villain name up to the reader's imagination) has put you through. While he's glad he didn't lose you like he did his parents, he's still concerned about your well-being. So ofcourse he would ask if you're okay. After he did ask you, you will answer him (up to reader's imagination on how the answers him).

*Once you answered Bruce's question, he would then open up that the reason(s) why he asked, because he's worried about your well-being and while he knows you could handle yourself and all, at the same time you're very precious to him and his biggest fear is losing you like he did his parents when he was very little. After he finishes opening up to you about his feelings, he would then mention about not being the best at cheering people up, however he would mention about some romantic stuff and plenty of things that might cheer you up, while taking care of your wounds.

*Once Bruce managed to comfort you and cheer you up, he would walk you home. After you got back to your home, you would offer him to spend the night at your place, which he surprisingly accepted, considering, he gets more concerned with crime fighting and usually doesn't spend the night at all. When he accepted your offer, both you and Bruce would kiss eachother (then locking lips together) before the both of you cuddled together on your living room couch for the rest of the night.

Damian Wayne (Robin)

*After Damian rescued you from (villain name up to the reader's imagination), he took you to his place and not only he is concerned about your well-being, he is also focused on your wounds. While he takes care of your wounds he would apologize about everything you went through, especially with the fact you were severely torchered by (villain name up to the reader's imagination) (physically and phycologicaly), he would also praise you on how much of a good job you did handling yourself, despite of everything you went through.

*Damian would also mention about his experiences with his time with the Teen Titans, especially with Raven and her experiences and other stuff. He would also encourage you to not give up, just because of everything that happened to you. Once he finishes taking care of your wounds, he invited you to be outside with him to watch the stars, which you accepted his offer.

*While you and Damian watched the stars together for the night, he would have his right arm around you, while you're sitting next to him. The both of you would definitely watch the stars together, until the sun comes up. As the sun was rising the both of you fell asleep, while you're in his arms.

Dick Grayson (Robin) (Nightwing)

*Note: Not sure if you prefer the Robin version of Dick or the Nightwing version, so why not have a pic of both the Robin version and the Nightwing version😅😃👍

*Dick was very angry with (villain name up to the reader's imagination) for everything he did to you, however he was very sad for you. He knew you secretly blamed yourself for getting kidnapped and torchered in the first place. So, ofcourse he will assure you (and consistently reassure you) that it's nothing that happened to you is your fault.

*After Dick finishes up with the topic on why nothing that happened to you was your fault, while taking care of your wounds, he would change to topic and will offer to make a cup of your favorite warm beverage for you and you accept his offer he would be more than happy to make it up for you. If you do decline his offer, he will cook a meal for you instead.

*Once you finished drinking your favorite hot beverage or eating the meal dick cooked for you, he would set you up for a snuggle session of the night. He will hold you and pet the back of your head, even after you do fall asleep. If he does fall asleep while he's still holding you, he will definitely makesure to sleep with one eye opened.

The🦇End

I hope you enjoyed this head cannon(?) fanfic my Tumblr Peeps🦇😃👍As for you @sacredwarrior88 I hope I did well with the request, as well😁👍I figured I'd write this fanfic best as i could think of and I figured this request as a whole would be fun to do and I really wanted to write something very similar that you requested for a fanfic, so this was and is something I would definitely work with writing😁👍Sone of the things for this fanfic, I have written were definitely last minute, especially the wounds part😅As for Bruce's part, I figured I'd try to make extra special and I hope this fanfic, especially Bruce's part makes your day and/or night☀️🌞🌕🌝 🦇😃👍

[alicearmageddon]

USEFUL ANARCHIST AND LEFTIST SITES ON THE WEB

1: The Anarchist Faq: this attempts to answer any questions one might have about anarchism. (the anarchist library, which this faq is on, is also an absolutley excellent rescource and maybe the biggest collection of anarchist theory on the web)

2: the tv tropes page for anarchism (yes, im serious). this manages to be a suprisingly well done and easy to read explanation of what anarchism is, what its about, and the different types of anarchists idealogies.

3: Anarchopedia. like wikipedia, but specifically for anarchism

more resources below the cut! and feel free to add more in reblogs.

4: the iww. the iww isnt anarchist, but im putting it here as its a member-led, grassroots union for all workers of the world.

iww.org

5: Zoe Baker has a PHD in anarchist history and is one of the few well researched and well read left politcs channels on youtube

youtube.com/@anarchopac

6: Organize magazine is a good source of anarchist news in the UK

organisemagazine.org.uk

7: Freedom News is another great source of anarchist news in the UK

freedomnews.org.uk

8: Mutual Aid Hub (afaik this is US only)

mutualaidhub.org

9:Black Rose Federation (also US only)

blackrosefed.org

10: symbiosis revolution (US only)

symbiosis-revolution.org

11: Marxists Internet Archive. while this site isnt really anarchist, it is leftist and has some anarchist texts. i also think marxism is worth learning about even as an anarchist whos views do not align with Marx.

Marxists.org

12: Neighborhood Anarchists. Neighborhood Anarchists is a direct action anarchist group based in Springfield and Eugene Oregon.

neighborhoodanarchists.org

13: Anarchist News. This is a site that provides news that is relevant to or about anarchism

Anarchistnews.org

14: A-Infos. This is a multi-lingual news service by, for, and about anarchists.

https://www.ainfos.ca/en/

15: CrimeThInk. This is an international network of aspiring revolutionaries all over the world.

crimethinc.com

16: It's Going Down. This is a digital community center for anarchist, anti-fascist, autonomous anti-capitalist and anti-colonial movements across so-called North America.

itsgoingdown.org

17: Libcom. This is is a resource for everyone fighting to improve their lives, communities and working conditions.

libcom.org

18: Unicorn Riot. This is a decentralized, educational non-profit media organization.

unicornriot.ninja

19: Submedia. Submedia is an anarchist digital media collective that produces videos and podcasts

sub.media

20: Zine Library. This is a compilation of anarchist zines and booklets, imposed for easy printing, as well as a few posters. (zines can be downloaded by pressing code > download zip)

github.com/rechelon/zine_library

[idle-daydreams]

I don't mind i don't think you take my crazy request anyway like i said before i just want Yandere Demon Chuuya X Female Demon reader because i just want wholesome yandere story so it not a point that you don't follow my request.

Also you don't have to sorry about thing you don't uncomfortable to do, it wasn't you fault.

[A.N.: Hi! Hope you like this!]

Tw: Yandere, implied imprisonment.

“So, what do you think?”

You looked around at the snow covered garden, gleaming silver in the moonlight. It was an ethereal scene, made all the more beautiful by the massive red roses peeking through the snow-covered bushes.

“... roses in winter,” you said, your breath coming out in white puffs. Slowly, you stepped out into the garden, pulling your shawl tighter about yourself. Chuuya was so paranoid about you catching a chill that he almost never let you out, so it was nice to feel the cold on your face.

“I know you like gardening,” Chuuya said, fiddling with the bindings around his torso as he fell into step beside you. He hadn’t bothered to dress warmly, yet he didn’t seem cold. “Figured you’d like to get out of the room.”

You didn’t answer, too mesmerized by the riot of color against the monochromatic backdrop of the garden. You wandered over to the nearest bush, tracing a petal as soft as... well, a rose-petal.

“How are they alive?” you asked. “Is it magic? Can you even do something like that?”

“Oh yeah. Turns out I can.” He shifted in place, looking less like the mighty demon lord that he was and more like a nervous schoolboy. “You do like ‘em, right? I know you planted them outside your... old place.”

“I did.” Ignoring the pang in your heart at the mention of home - there was no point to it, after all - you peered closely at the roses. They were exquisite, each bloom as large as your fist. The garden was alive with their fragrance, almost a testament to their existence. “They all died, though,” you admitted. “You seem to have a better green thumb than I do.”

“Oh no, I didn’t plant them,” Chuuya said. “I got some servants to do it. I just make sure that the roses don’t wither away in the cold. So you can mess about with them all you want without worryin’ about ‘em dying.”

So basically just play about with them like a child.

The words rose to your lips, a retort you would have once made without a second thought. But now, they faded away before the anticipation in Chuuya’s eyes. He truly had made an effort, taken more of an interest in you than anyone ever had your whole life. You pursed your lips, then smiled. “Thank you. The garden is lovely. I like it very much.”

“You do?” Chuuya beamed. “Great!”

You jumped as he threw his arms around you, capturing your lips with his own. You stiffened, pulling away instinctively, but Chuuya’s arms were like a vice, gripping you as tightly as he continued to kiss you in a passionate frenzy. You finally allowed yourself to melt in his arms, eyes fluttering shut as your hands moved to his shoulders of your own accord. When he finally pulled away you blinked, breathless. Chuuya grinned back, equally red-faced.

“I’m glad you like ‘em,” he said.

Your face heated up. “Be careful,” you said weakly, picking at a stray bloom pressed between your bodies. “We’re hurting it.”

“Ah, shit. Sorry.” Chuuya pulled away a little, and you gladly followed suit, pretending to care for the flowers to put some space between you two. Your mind whirled with being with him around him; he was so entirely handsome it was hard to remember at times that he was a demon.

Chuuya, however, leaned forward, cocking his head to peer at your face. “Don’t hide from me,” he said. “They’re still nothing compared to you. You’re the prettiest flower here, [Y/N].”

“Ah.” You lowered your head even more, trying to hide just how flustered you were. “That’s not - you’re too kind. I can’t believe you did all this.”

“Why not? Anything for you.”

“No, I mean - all this.” You waved your arms around. “All this. It’s... very thoughtful.”

Chuuya pouted. “You think I can’t be thoughtful?”

“No, no,” you said quickly. “That’s not what I meant. But... you are a demon, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, so?”

“You don’t-” You tried to pull your foot in your mouth- “act like it.”

To your relief, Chuuya chuckled. “What’s a demon supposed to act like?” he said.” You want me to be all crazy and violent?” He leaned in with a smirk. “Aren’t I wild enough for you?”

You cursed yourself for the erratic pounding of your heart. “I meant, still, demons are supposed to be, you know, demonic and all that.”

“I know.” He sobered up a little, looking somewhat abashed. “I try to hold myself to a higher standard than the others. Some of the other demons can be awful.”

“Will I be safe around them?”

“Like hell am I sharing you with anyone!”

You raised a brow. “So you intend to keep me locked away forever?”

“If I have to,” he said immediately. “I’m not risking anything happening to you.”

Your heart withered a little at this, the reality of your situation rearing its ugly head again. Chuuya seemed to notice your disappointment, for he squeezed your shoulder reassuringly. Don’t worry, [Y/N],” he said. “It won’t come to that, I promise. I know how difficult it is for you right now, but I’ll make sure everything is fine in the end I promise I’ll make things better. You just have to trust me.”

“I just don’t want to live like this,” you whispered, not meeting his gaze. “I can’t live alone.”

“You’re not alone,” he said. “You have me. You’ll always have me. I promise you; things will get better. I’ll make them better. At one time you hated me, right? And now you don’t anymore.”

That much was true enough. You didn’t hate Chuuya anymore. You didn’t love him - you weren’t sure what you felt about him - but your initial resentment had faded.

Maybe, just maybe, there was something there. Like roses blooming in a frozen garden, your love had begun in twisted circumstances, but maybe it could survive.

Maybe, one day, it could even become something real.

[cambion-companion]

that drunk fic was beautiful 😂

now I just wish for Y/n who was Aegon's bff, frat boy Aegon and his buddy who always got into the worst of trouble and were a riot to watch at bars, strip clubs/or tavern and whorehouse, they were always around and somehow Aemond grew up and got engaged to them.

he's always in a state of between 'the love of my life, my dear heart' and 'oh gods there's two of them'

Aegon: *face down at breakfast beside his plate of eggs, groaning loudly*

Y/n, still a little drunk and nursing a goblet of dragon-scale coffee while Haelena (who loves them) tells them about her spider: "hell yeah"

Aemond: "I can't not marry them."

haha thank you so much, I am so glad I have wonderful people gracing my inbox with their brilliance. I wrote a lil blurb of the morning after the "worm" incident with hungover Aegon and reader hehe

"Aegon, you have scrambled egg on your face." Aemond's voice, soft and low as it was, grated against every aching part of your brain.

"mmmpfth." Aegon answered, making little effort to clean himself, instead choosing to remain with his cheek pressed to his full breakfast plate.

"Articulate."

"Stop talking, Aemond."

You took a cue from Aegon and laid your throbbing forehead against the cool wood of the table, luckily it was just the three of you at breakfast that morning. You shut your tired eyes against the crisp dawn light.

"I am surrounded by drunkards, it seems."

"Stop talking, Aemond!" You and Aegon spoke together, your groans of pain harmonizing in the dining hall.

"And churls." Aemond huffed, you heard his chair scrape the stone floor as he rose, making no effort to be quieter.

Footsteps approached where you sat with your head against the table. You sighed in relief, feeling long fingers begin caressing your scalp. The clink of a cup being set beside you caused you to sit up, Aemond still massaging your head.

"A special concoction to help with the hangover." Aemond said softly, giving your scalp a few more strokes before moving over to where you could see Aegon still laying in his food.

"Drink this, brother! Helaena made it, she's become quite adept at the crafting of such potions being married to your sorry personage."

Aemond made no effort to be gentle with Aegon, practically slamming the cup of hot dark liquid onto the table next to Aegon's puffy face, bending over to speak loudly into his ear.

"Fuck you." Aegon complained, nevertheless he sat up enough to drain the mug.

"Hmm. Next time, you will stop refilling my wife's wine goblet the first time I ask, or I will do much worse."

[lollytea]

Now that Flapjack has essentially given Hunter a heart and it's kinda implied he didn't have one before, I'm imagining Willow flirting with Hunter and he starts getting this weird...pounding??? feeling in his chest and is super confused about it

I always imagined that Hunter's galdorstone did something when he felt strong emotions. Maybe a low reverberation or crackle through his body.

But it's funny to think about Flapjack adding something that modifies the way Hunter's heart functions. So it beats!! Which Hunter barely notices at first until it starts to really pound which freaks him the fuck out.

Willow leaning in close and winding a finger around a long, dangly lock of Hunter's hair.

"Just say the word and I'll take the scissors to it again." She winks and Hunter is already hopelessly flustered but then his chest starts hitting him from the inside??? Like. Violently??? Something is in there and it's trying to escape. Hunter does the rational thing and grips his chest for dear life and screams, successfully startling the fuck out of Willow.

After babbling about how he thinks there's something alive attempting to burst out of his ribcage, Willow eventually connects the dots.

(Obviously she's aware of the grimwalker thing by now.)

"I think...I think that's a heartbeat." She theorizes with a furrowed brow. "Here, lemme see."

She places her hand flat against Hunter's chest and feels the heavy thump beneath. "Yep. Definitely a heartbeat."

"Why's it doing that?!" Hunter demands, scared and confused. "It's trying to break out of me!!"

"Nah, that's just you."

"Me?"

"Sure. Hearts never stop beating but they're usually so quiet you don't notice. But they tend to speed up..." She spreads her fingers across the fabric of his shirt. "When you're nervous. Or excited. Or both."

"Oh..." Hunter murmurs, feeling a flood of relief wash over him.

A second.

Two seconds.

"OH!" Hunter exclaims with a stain of red setting his ears ablaze, as the reality of the situation he's in crashes down on him and his heart erupts in a riot under Willow's palm

Willow laughs giddily, then lifts her head to look Hunter directly in the eye. And though her smile is sweet as honey and warm as candelight, she can't keep the ripple out triumph out of it.

"Is that how you feel right now? With me?" She asks, brazen as ever.

Hunter knows he has to give her some sort of answer, but when he opens his mouth, not a peep falls out.

Willow waits patiently for a moment, before accepting that he just doesn't have the words right now.

"That's okay...." She says softly. She then catches hold of Hunter's hand and guides it upwards. She adjusts his palm so it's resting against her own chest.

"Feel that?" Willow whispers, as Hunter's eyes light up with fascination.

A rapid fire thump thump thump thump.

Having thoroughly exposed herself, rose petals bloom across Willow's cheeks.

"We're in this together." She assures him, the gradual reveal of her nerves cracking through her confident smile.

Hunter likes the speedy reliable rhythm of her heart. He likes to know that she's just a little scared too.

He likes her.

"Together." He agrees with a soft little smile of his own, comforted in the fact that they both have feral creatures in their chests to tame. That's certainly a problem he doesn't want to deal with alone.

[gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot]

Nil Desperandum (Never Despair)

Warning: Angst, but good ending. Kind of a fix it fic. Needed to get it out.

Her phone rang.

Gabi looked up from the CCTV monitors, eyebrows raised, the fear in her eyes echoing her own. Riot grabbed the phone to see 'My Throne' on the screen. Calling.

Simon never called. She answered, her hand shaking.

''What's wrong?''

''Lovie...''

Her blood ran cold with his tone. What could have Simon all that choked up?

Who?

''NO!''

Simon was startled out of his slumber when Christine shot up upright on the bed, her eyes wide and a cold sheen of sweat covering her skin, seeing nothing, panting heavily.

He sat up and wrapped his arms around her, trying to pry the sheets off her hands balled in fists. Sighing, he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, dragging her against his chest to craddle her.

''It's alright, love. Only a nightmare. Everything is alright'' His fingers wiped off the few tears that already covered her cheeks, but they didn't stop, and soon she was sobbing in his arms, like almost every night since that moment almost a month ago.

''No, no, no, no, no...'' Christine cried against his chest, gripping his t-shirt now that Simon had managed to get her to release the sheets, and he held her tighter. Then he got up from the bed and lifted her in his arms, feeling her legs wrapping around his waist, her arms tight around his shoulders and her face buried in the crook of his neck.

''C'mon, lovie, let's go check'' Simon murmured into her hair, one of his forearms supporting her body and using his free hand to open the door of their bedroom to step outside.

She continued sobbing the whole way to the neighbouring bedroom, where Simon knocked only once before opening the door.

''Simon, what...?'' Gabi sat up on the bed, rubbing her eyes, but when she saw the scene her own hazel-green eyes welled up. She had cried until she had fallen asleep too every night for the last month, but thankfully her nightmares weren't as frequent.

''Aww, bonnie...'' Johnny grinned widely when Simon sat down next to him on the bed, with the sobbing Christine still clinging to him. ''Am alright, hen, don't ye worry...''

''Johnny'' She cried even more violently when he sat up carefully with Simon's help, grunting and trying not to bend his bandaged side too much. The stitches on his face had come off a while ago, and the fresh, badass (per his words) scar that crossed his left eye was still raw.

But his smile was as goofy as always.

''C'mere, hen''

Christine dragged herself out of Simon's arms and into Johnny's, sobbing into his t-shirt and wetting it with her tears as he cooed and murmured into her hair, holding her gently. Gabi snuggled up against them, tears running down her cheeks as well.

''Not going anywhere, Chris'' His blue eyes rose up to meet Simon's deep brown ones, and the stoic Lieutenant even smiled at him back. ''Am here to stay''

''You better, Johnny'' Simon grunted, one of his hands gripping the Scot's wrist on her hair, tight. ''You fucking better''

[dimmiestimmies]

Killer Sans Stimboard

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"I've been searching for an answer, but I ain't found one" "I've been known to tear sh!t up and go off like a gun" "I've been drinking way too much, but now I think I'm done" "F-ck that sh!t, let's start a RIOT!"

-----

Killer! Sans themed stimboard with blood, roses, knives, and cats. Gift for a friend! :]

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x o x o x x o x o x x o x o x

[black-is-iconic]

Midnight Lovers

Chapter Two : Cramps And Cuddles

You were nestled in the lap of Urogi as his talon like hands rested on your hips and his wings encased you in a cocoon of feathery warmth that comforted and held you close in his strong embrace.

His chest rose and fell slowly as he nuzzled your cheek, deep velvety purrs rumbled from deep within his chest as you smiled happily up at him; he's so cute.

And quite useful, vibrating his vocal cords at such a frequency that it soothed the cramps and tension lingering in your lower abdomen, a content sigh falling from your lips as you snuggle closer to his warmth.

His wing caressed your cheeks gently as his talons traced your spine slowly drawing circles over your skin as he continued to purr in his throat, "feeling better dragonfly?" He asked his lips moving against your temple as his arms tightened almost imperceptibly around you, his voice vibrated through your bones and you felt your whole body tingle with delight.

You nodded smiling brightly, "much much better" you agreed and he hummed his approval "and you don't have a headache anymore too?" His hands massaged the remaining tension plaguing your muscles as your body relaxed further against him, your smile broadened even wider.

"Nope" you answered and he smirked, his fingers skimming down the bare expanse of your back as they travelled upwards. You were completely entranced by the soft strokes of his fingers, his touch was gentle and tender.

Even though his talons are sharp enough to shred diamonds like butter, his touch was gentle and caring, "that's good dragonfly" he murmured running his palm leisurely along the curve of your waist, his thumb caressing your hip bone affectionately your cheeks burned with a sudden surge of arousal.

Shivers dancing up your spine as you watch his beautiful golden irises like molten honey shrink into predatory slits, "maybe I can assist you further in your…" his eyes danced down your figure before landing between your thighs.

Causing you to involuntarily tremble under the intense gaze "…condition" he finished with a heavy swallow as his talon like hands stroked your hips causing the butterflies in your stomach to riot, "may I?"

He murmured lost in a lustful daze as he spread your thighs, licking his lips as he spotted the red tinted panties clinging to your cunt. Your. lips parted to speak, but in one swift motion your shredded panties collapsed to the floor as you were hoisted on his broad shoulders and his tongue plunged straight into your slick folds.

Catching every drop of crimson like a hungry animal savoring the meal presented before him, consuming you with a fervent hunger fueling each stroke of his tongue.

A slew of moans spilled from you lips as his tongue thrust into you repeatedly driving you insane with it's swift circular motion that brought a wave of climax rushing towards you. Your hands desperately grasped his luscious ebony mane as he laved his tongue into your folds as pulling your throbbing clit into his mouth.

Another moan fell from your lips accompanied by a sharp intake of breath, it was so disgusting and yet….so arousing. He devoured you greedily as you bucked your hips downwards his eager awaiting mouth, eliciting a loud groan of delight from him as he pulled his tongue out and sucked the moisture off it.

"You taste wonderful dragonfly! Like a sweet wine! A feast!" He exclaimed in delight as repositioned you in his arms, feathers rustling against your skin as he shredded your kimono with his talons ripping apart the delicate material exposing your perky and hardening nipples.

hHe held the large flesh mounds in his palms like they were delicate china, kissing them reverently before rolling them in his taloned digits.

You winced slightly at their tenderness and the little ache of pain every time he allowed your breast to fall out of his grasp. He began to purr contently, a warm breath fanning over your naked breast as he licked at the tip, sucking lightly as he circled your erect nipple with his tongue

. His face pressed deep into the split of your breast nuzzling them and letting out a deep sigh of content as more soothing purrs rippled through him.

His honey colored irises locking with your own, another moan tore from your throat as he released your breast with a wet pop admiring their swollen appearance.

Your hands drifted up and down his curly mane, occasionally giving light pulls which he mostly ignored….until your slender fingers wrapped around his horns and give a nice little tug.

Whoo boy the sound that came from this man….like a sweet symphony of pure ecstasy, his eyes rolled in the back off his head and his arms spasmed around you nearly dropping you as he seemed to become overcome with euphoria. A slew of broken needy whines escaping his lips. "F-fuck dragonyfly….n-not the horns" he pleaded holding you so tightly against his his body that you could feel the pulsing heat of his cock pressing insistently against your thigh, the warmth giving rise to goosebumps across your skin.

He leaned into the crook of your neck breathing heavily, so you gave his horns another tug and he nearly keeled over as he whimpered and shuddered with pleasure. Grabbing your thighs and pulling you painfully close as hips rutted against yours grinding his girth against you as small tremors wracked his body .

"fuuuck…." his hands gripped at your ass pulling you tighter to him as his hips jerked faster rubbing against your pussy, you gasped his name with an uncontrollable squeal. His breathing had quickened drastically, his clawed fingertips digging into your hips as your legs automatically wrapped tightly around his hips as he ruts into you with a needy grunt sinking his teeth into the flesh of your shoulder and drawing blood, "U-urogi" you panted clutching his hair and moaning.

"S-sorry s-sorry" he groaned trying to slow down his pace but his control has slipped completely as he thrust into the heavenly feeling of your plush thighs, in the back of his mind he knew the other clones would chew him out for this later but he didn't care all he wanted was to bury himself deep inside you and release all the tension that's been building up inside him for weeks.

But this would have to do for now, with a few more thrusts he felt that familiar burn and tightness build in his groin, he bit harder into your neck as his jaw clenched and his cock pulsated, releasing a hot shower of cum in his hakama pants.

As the warmth from his release floods your thighs you could feel his shuddering breaths against your skin, his entire body shook as he purred in satisfaction, "what's so funny?" You mused noting his charismatic smiled turn smug, he licked his lips and laughed peeking over his shoulder "let's just say me and my brothers are connected in more ways than one an-" suddenly there there was a loud banging on his room door…."hehe took'em long enough" he hummas you swallowed nervously.