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monotonesmile · 2 months ago

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Can i request pregnant batsis who was dumped by her bf because he didn't want a baby. And the batsis comes back to the manor. She's younger than Dick and Jason but older that Tim and Damian. Damian doesn't know her. And she tells them they going to be uncels and Bruce a grandfather?

Batfam & Pregnant!Batsis!Reader

[Warnings: Shitty boyfriend, enough said. Some swearing]

[Fic Genre: Headcanons, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff]

[Notes: I’m not exactly the best at writing anything pregnancy related but ya gotta practice somehow! Also it’s headcanons because I needed a break from writing full fics for a second.]

————————————————————

You realized you were late on your period so, just to be precautious, like your father taught you, you bought a pregnancy test, and waited for the results, anxiously waiting as you paced around the bathroom of the apartment you shared with your boyfriend, and when you got the results back, so many emotions flooded you as you saw those two little red lines, you were pregnant.

You knew you should tell your boyfriend, so you waited for his return from work. When you heard the door shut, you called him to the living room, then handing him the, cleaned, pregnancy test, you were nervous for his reaction, you were hoping he’d be at least supportive and help you, but instead he glared at the test before tossing it away, and then told you either you get rid of it or you’re breaking up.

His response made your body run cold, you never expected him to give you such an unpleasant ultimatum, abortion or breaking up, and you did not want to give up the baby, you had been wanting to be a mother for a while now, and now he’s trying to take that from you? After you’ve told him so many times that you were ready to be a mom? The man you’ve loved and were ready to be with forever, told you to give up your child.

So, you told him “Fine, if that’s the case, then you’re over.”

You gathered your essentials, not looking at him even as your heart broke, carrying a bag with your electronics, some clothes, and other important items, you left the apartment, texting the man you viewed as a grandfather to pick you up, you’re coming back to the manor after breaking up with your now ex boyfriend.

You waited for a few minutes with your thoughts, only now had you begun to realize all the red flags in your ex boyfriend, he never seemed interested in anything you said, whenever you brought up marriage or having kids, he would dismiss you, maybe it was about time you broke up, it probably just saved you from a horribly toxic relationship.

You were taken out of your thoughts when the familiar car pulled up to the parking lot of the apartment complex, your mind lightening slightly as you got up and got into the passenger seat, met by the butler and the man you and your siblings considered a grandfather, Alfred.

You explained the situation on the car ride to the manor, you could feel the sympathetic gaze coming from the older man as you pulled up to the imposing building, knowing you’d have to tell your family, and you could already guess their reactions.

[Bruce Wayne]

Bruce was the first one you told after you got back to the manor, it felt…awkward to say the least, telling your father you’re pregnant, but while you still feared a similar reaction to your ex boyfriend, Bruce didn’t react that way, he asked if you were alright, if you were worried, or ready. The fact that he had immediately focused on your wellbeing made you feel so much better about this situation.

Bruce would absolutely be a helicopter parent after you told him about your pregnancy, he would take you to the doctor appointments, he’d check on you hourly to make sure any of the symptoms of pregnancy weren’t bothering you too much. He’d absolutely get you the best doctors Gotham has to offer, or even doctors from outside the gloomy city, he wants you well taken care of.

All in all, he cares about his daughter, and he is very excited to be a grandfather, even if it’s just reminding him of his age, but he would want to help with setting up a nursery for the baby, 10/10 grandpa, he would adore the kid. (He’d also keep them the hell away from vigilantism.)

[Dick Grayson]

Now Dick would be the second person to know, and he, much like Bruce, would make sure you’re okay with everything that happened, while he’s excited to be an uncle, he also knows you just with through a breakup, and being the ladies (and men) man, he would be the one to comfort you through it, he’d help keep your mind off it by using horrible jokes and puns, he’d just be happy to make you smile.

Absolutely the one to feed in on your cravings if you get them, you want pickles and chips at three in the morning? Nightwing is seen in a 24/7 store trying to pick which one you’d like more, the media has a field day with that.

He’s the one that’s going to hold you through all of your emotions, your hormones are all over the place and he’s not going to be phased, you’re angry? He'll be angry at whatever you’re angry at with you. Sad about something you watched? He will be holding you through the tears. He’s had so many girlfriends, he knows how it works now, all the emotions that are bubbling up to the surface, and goddammit he will not let his little sister down.

Just a little thing, he absolutely loves baby shopping, adores it, he wants to buy every single outfit and toy, and is very pouty when you say you can’t get everything. Still picks out a shirt that says “Best Uncle” for himself, he taunts his brothers.

[Jason Todd]

Probably one of the last to know actually, he’s not at the manor a lot, so you’d have to tell him over text, and he would be breaking so many laws to speed his way to the manor because WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU'RE PREGNANT AND YOUR BOYFRIEND BROKE UP WITH YOU BECAUSE OF IT!? Immediately offers to take care of your ex, he does not care, nobody gets away with that on his watch, he probably would still try it even if you said no.

Once he calms down, he will actually be around the manor way more often, he’s watching over you, probably the one that helps whenever you get morning sickness, or just, throwing up in general. He looms, a lot. It’s scaring people and no he will not stop, don’t bother asking.

He’s probably really good at giving massages, would be the one to help when you’re further along and your body is starting to ache and be sore, he would not want you to move around a lot. If he could, he’d carry you.

(Very huffy after Dick got the “Best Uncle” shirt, would buy a second one and write a number two on it.)

[Tim Drake]

God, this poor man is so tired and experiencing a system restart when you tell him you’re pregnant. I feel like Tim would probably just nod before disappearing into his room and immediately starts to do research on what you can and can’t eat while pregnant, and literally everything else, definitely becomes the most knowledgeable on the subject of pregnancy.

Tim would make you a mood board or something for the nursery, specifically of things you like. It's honestly kinda odd how he got everything so correct, but it’s definitely nice to have a physical idea of what you want to do for your baby’s room.

He probably made a layout of the nursery to your exact specifications and is so ready to build everything for it, crib, toy chests, a rocking chair? He’ll be the first to start building everything, his brothers would have to get there quick enough to help as well, they’d have you sit in so they know where to put everything.

[Damian Wayne]

Damian would also offer to take care of you ex, except he would make it a statement, as in, he will be going after your ex, you will have to stop him, he will commit to it, don’t test him, he’s protective over his family.

Honestly, he’s probably very confused, but he’s trying his best, he understands that you shouldn’t be doing anything stressful, so even in your early stages of pregnancy, Damian would literally take anything remotely heavy from your hands and carry it for you, it’s sweet, but he does it every. single. time.

Damian is going to fight Dick for that shirt, he’s going to be the favorite uncle, but when he can’t get the shirt from his older brother? He buys a different one, “Favorite Uncle”, Dick may claim to be the best uncle, but he’s going to be the favorite uncle, he’s taunting everyone with this fact.

[Bonus: Alfred]

Alfred is the only one that actually knows what he’s doing, he was there when Bruce was born, he knows how to help a pregnant lady, which is a much needed comfort for you.

You secretly bought him a “#1 Great Grandpa” shirt, he is going to wear it when you have the baby, he adores the shirt, even if he doesn’t wear it often, it’s special to him.

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[Requests are open!]

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seellove · 1 month ago

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Travel Time! - Sukuna x Reader

Just got done packing for a trip and just had to write traveling with Sukuna before bed lol. Mainly fluff with some suggestive undertones.

Pt 1 - Pt 2 - Pt 3

Traveling with Husband!Sukuna is always an experience given his grumpy nature.

Husband!Sukuna gets home from work and finds you’ve already prepared a packing list for your vacation tomorrow. You ask him to retrieve the suitcases from the basement and lug them up to your bedroom.

Husband!Sukuna who brings them up like you asked, a little grouchy but otherwise unbothered…until you tell him you need one carry on and one full sized bag, so you send him back down two stories to replace one of the small carry ons. He huffs and sighs dramatically as he reappears, but you just offer a happy “thanks baby” and turn back to gathering up everything.

Husband!Sukuna who gets annoyed when you come and ask for the fourth time to come look at his clothes with you while he’s trying to game. He is glad you are taking care of the packing but he claims to not care about what clothes you pack for him.

Husband!Sukuna who you know better than that because he’s way pickier than he claims to be, so you force him to come approve of what you’ve chosen and sure enough, doesn’t like the shirts you picked so he chooses some to replace.

Husband!Sukuna who likes to go to bed early and wake up early, starts getting ready for bed while you are finalizing everything. Before he can lay down though, you ask him to bring the trash out, bring the suitcases downstairs, and make sure his backpack is packed so that nothing is forgotten in the morning. More grunting and huffing follows as he brings everything down. Sometimes he thinks you just like watching him move around heavy shit and he’s not wrong because seeing the way his forearms flex and his biceps bulge isn’t a bad thing by any means.

Husband!Sukuna who is now grumpy and sleepy, asks if you need anything else before he finally lays down. You say no but as he sits on the bed and takes his shirt off, you ask if he can get you a glass of water. “Make up your mind woman,” he mutters before trudging back downstairs. Even if he moans and groans, he’ll never say no to you.

Husband!Sukuna who says he’s laying down for good, gets comfortable and watches you scurry around the room rounding up toiletries for tomorrow. He wishes you’d just handle the rest tomorrow and get in bed to snuggle up together. His gruff and grumpy exterior wouldn’t indicate this, but you know after a long day he wants nothing more than to wrap you up in his arms and hold you close. “Almost done Kuna!” you say as you zip up the toiletry bag, noticing his longing, red eyes from his pillow.

Husband!Sukuna whose alarm goes off bright and early, untangles himself from you, telling you to stay asleep while he finalizes everything. Sukuna loads up the car with everything, gets a coffee made for you, makes sure everything is neat and tidy for when you get back, and makes sure your electronics are charged for the plane ride.

Husband!Sukuna gently wakes you up, saying it’s time to get ready. He goes to heat up the car while you quickly get dressed and find your coffee hot and ready on the kitchen counter. You realize he’s taken care of everything else and your heart skips a beat. He’s always anticipating and thinking three steps ahead to make your life easier.

Husband!Sukuna who drives to the airport, listening to you yap about everything you have planned and how excited you are to be going on your tropical getaway. He hums in agreement, not really caring about the activities or the location, just that he’s excited to spend some time with you. In his eyes he just needs a nice, big bed that he can lay you down on without the distractions of your normal home life.

Husband!Sukuna is too busy day dreaming about fooling around with you and doesn’t hear you ask him where he was going to park for the third time. He chooses the garage closest to the airport, his woman shouldn’t be subjected to walking long distances in the winter cold. He’d carry you if he could, but he needs to handle all the bags, he wouldn’t let you life a finger to help haul everything inside.

Husband!Sukuna who follows your lead as you walk up to the airline counter. He has no idea about any of the trip ins and outs, he just follows you around, happy to be in your presence. He loves how much of a planner you are and it impresses him every time you plan a trip for you both. It’s certainly a gift you possess and he loves that about you.

Husband!Sukuna drops the bags off at the counter while you gather the boarding passes. With his hands finally free of the luggage, he laces his fingers with yours, you squeezing his warm, rough hand in return. You lean against his side and he leans down to plant a kiss on the top of your head. “Alright baby, let’s get this adventure started,” he says as you head towards security, excited to leave your busy lives behind for a few days.

Part 2 will be navigating the airport and the flights. This seems so random but I’m flying tomorrow and this just came to me lol.

#sukuna x reader #sukuna headcanons #sukuna x you #jjk x you #jjk x reader #sukuna fluff #jujustsu kaisen x reader #ryomen sukuna #husband sukuna

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black-fist-order · 27 days ago

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BREAKING - AND NOW THERE ARE THE EMAILS TO PROVE IT.

Trump has been on a vendetta against the State of Maine, in a personal revenge campaign against Governor Janet Mills.

Trump clashed with Mills at a White House event for the National Governors Association back on February 20th.

As he boasted he was ending the participation of transitioned students in women's sports, he singled her out and demanded that Maine comply with his order. There is only one such student athlete in the entire state.

Mills replied that Maine's schools were complying with all State and Federal Laws.

GASP. A WOMAN. Speaking back to TRUMP. He was furious.

“Well, we are the federal law,” Trump bawled. “You’d better do it. You’d better do it, because you’re not going to get any federal funding at all if you don’t.”

The Governor was not impressed. She is a former state attorney general and district attorney.

“We’re going to follow the law sir. We’ll see you in court,” she said sternly.

Something like this was like nothing Trump had ever seen before in the history of the world. It was catastophic. It was disgusting. It was NASTY.

“Enjoy your life after governor, because I don’t think you’ll be an elected official afterwards,” Trump snarled.

He could not let go of it. He seethed for the next two days, and even golf at Mar-a-Lala could not distract him. In a late Saturday night rant on X he demanded "a full throated apology" from Mills.

She ignored him.

"This will not end well for the Governor and the people of Maine," said a statement from the White House.

It has not.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Trump’s Department of Education head, wrestling queen Linda McMahon, launched an "inquiry" against Maine's Department of Education last week.

This week, The New York Times reported that Trump’s Department of Agriculture said that it had “frozen federal funding for education programs in Maine, the latest in a barrage of actions targeting the state.”

MSNBC reports that "in case that weren't quite enough National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration sent a letter to Maine cancelling funding for Maine Sea Grant."

Maine Public Radio says that in recent days, both the U.S., Department of Health and Human Services and the U.S. Department of Education have declared that Maine is violating Title IX. The agencies have given the state 10 days to come into compliance with the Trump administration's interpretation of the law and make other changes or risk referral to the U.S. Department of Justice for additional potential sanctions.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

But besides all of this - from the safety of his chair behind his desk - Trump ordered acting Social Security Administration Commissioner Leland Dudek to don the armor of Truth, Justice and the American Way and had sent HIM for a holy joust against the fearsome Dragon of Maine.

Dudek decided to take out Trump's revenge on new parents and grieving families in Maine.

Leland asked his staff about what contracts Maine had with the Social Security Administration, and he cancelled them.

He ordered the cancellation of the online electronic program that allowed babies to be given Social Security numbers right from the hospital, and the program allowing the hospitals to register deaths by electronic verification.

Huffpost reports: According to their emails, the Social Security staff informed Dudek that canceling the contracts “would result in improper payments and potential for identity theft.”

Dudek told his staff to go for it anyway.

“Please cancel the contracts. While our improper payments will go up, and fraudsters may compromise identities, no money will go from the public trust to a petulant child,” Dudek wrote, referring to Governor Janet Mills.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Canceling the vital records contracts would not only make it more difficult for families to register births and deaths IN PERSON at Social Security offices, it also would make it more difficult for the federal government to track births and deaths in Maine accross ALL GOVERNMENT AGENCIES, all of which use Social Security records to prevent improper payments.

And all the agencies let Dudek know it.

Dudek reinstated the contracts in less than 24 hours amid an outcry the agencies, AND from pediatricians, hospitals, funeral directors and Maine’s congressional delegation. He said he hadn’t "intended" to create an “undue burden on the people of Maine,” though his internal emails expressed exactly that.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Wednesday, those emails were obtained by Rep. Gerry Connolly (D-Va.), the top Democrat on the House Oversight Committee.

Rep. Connolly has called on Dudek to resign immediately.

“The acting commissioner of the Social Security Administration should serve the American people, not create waste, fraud, and abuse on the taxpayer’s dime,” Connolly wrote in a letter to Dudek laying out the email traffic.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Dudek is only a Trump appointee, and has not received any official Senate confirmation for the important post he holds.

He had been only a mid-level IT staffer at Social Security when he helped Elon Musk’s DOGE team access sensitive databases inside the agency, which he bragged about on LinkedIn. He was put on administrative leave.

But when the Social Security head resigned in protest, and more senior officials refused to cooperate with Musk’s team, Trump tapped him to lead the agency as acting head.

Last month, Dudek threatened to shut the agency down altogether after a federal judge ordered DOGE affiliates to withdraw from Social Security databases containing sensitive personal information about Americans.

Dudek knows NOTHING about the contracts the federal governments has with the states. He knows NOTHING about what they mean, and he cares NOTHING about the consequences. And he cares NOTHING about making OUR information safe.

He also obviously cares NOTHING about Trump's and Musk's purported crusade to prevent fraud and waste in government.

So far, the Social Security Administration has not responded to calls by the news media for comment.

Neither has the White House...

#fuck trump #maga morons #fuck maga #maga cult #traitor trump #republican assholes #republican cheats #trump is an idiot and so are his voters #fuck the gop #inbred

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yokohamapound · 2 months ago

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Bungou Stray Dogs characters responding to you answering their question with, "Don't worry about it, Kitten."? 😆

You always have the best asks. 😂

Characters: Dazai Osamu, Fyodor Dostoevsky, Akutagawa Ryuunosuke, Nakahara Chuuya, Nakajima Atsushi, Edogawa Ranpo, Fukuzawa Yukichi

Contents: gn!reader

Dazai Osamu

Dazai has to stop his lazy chatter or his whining for a second to try and parse whether he heard that correctly. He lifts his head from where it's slumped on a cushion, the rest of his gangly body splayed out on the couch. He mentally replays the last few seconds and yeah, you said what he thought you said.

A slow, sly grin creeps its way across his face as he sits up, eyeing you where you're making coffee in the kitchen. His brown eyes sparkle with amusement and mischief. He's not used to his own brand of flirting being directed back at him and he's delighted.

Long arms wrap around your waist from behind, and the point of his chin comes to rest on your shoulder.

"If I'm your kitten, shouldn't you be petting me and hand-feeding me crab?" he wheedles.

You scoff, lifting a hand to ruffle his warm brown waves. He gives a pretty good impression of a purr, at least until you flick his nose, retorting, "Don't make me get the spray bottle."

Fyodor Dostoevsky

Fyodor doesn't react immediately.

His question was likely not something related to his plans or any major operations, or you wouldn't have answered him so flippantly. Perhaps it was a casual enquiry as to your day, or just asking what you were doing.

He leans slowly back in his chair and turns to look at you, his eyes glinting violet-red in the dim light of his screens.

A soft huff of amusement cuts through the quiet hum of electronics. His gaze takes you in from head to toe.

"You do like your little games, don't you, myshka? Just remember, that if I am the cat, you are the mouse."

Akutagawa Ryuunosuke

You'd better be his s/o if you're going to pull this, because he has killed people for less.

When your words register, Akutagawa's eyes widen, white showing all around the grey. A blotchy flush appears on his pallid cheeks.

"What did you just say to me?" he asks, venomous.

If there is anyone else who was close enough to hear it, they are probably dead. Akutagawa's black coat ripples, Rashoumon stirring in response to his anger and embarrassment.

Akutagawa slaps a tendril of Rashoumon over your mouth.

"...never say that again, fool."

He stalks off in a huff.

Nakahara Chuuya

Chuuya has a moment of BSOD, where he's not sure what he just heard. His head whips toward you so fast that his hat almost flies off. His eyebrows crash down into a scowl, while heat creeps up his neck and turns his ears crimson.

"Oi, what'd ya just call me?"

"What's wrong, kitten?" you repeat.

He sputters, annoyed and flustered and not entirely sure how he should react to that. Chuuya, being Chuuya, he aggressively adjusts his hat and straightens his shoulders, as if he can shrug off what you just said.

"I ain't no damn kitten."

Don't try and attach a bell to his choker.

Nakajima Atsushi

Completely clueless.

He just stops what he's doing, the earnest, cheerful look on his face melting into one of blank confusion.

"Um, did you just call me...?"

He's too embarrassed to say the word out loud, his cheeks pink.

"Call you what, kitten?"

You're enjoying this far more than you should, you sadist.

Atsushi swallows, looking around to make sure no one else hears you call him such an embarrassing nickname. He'd never live it down.

"Uh, is this because of the tiger thing?"

Edogawa Ranpo

Ranpo is leaning back in his chair, his feet propped up on the desk, a lollipop lodged firmly in his mouth. He's a little bored because there are no fun cases to solve, but he has candy, and you're nearby, so things aren't too bad, as far as he's concerned.

He doesn't even bat an eyelid when you address him as "kitten". He's halfway toward being a cat already.

Taking the lollipop from his mouth and waving it through the air, he declares, "Meow."

You should also get him a pair of cat ears. He'll wear them without a trace of shame.

"Hey, if I'm your kitten does that make you my Discord daddy?"

Fukuzawa Yukichi

I doubt anyone has ever had the balls to say something like that to Fukuzawa before, so first I must congratulate you on your cojones (metaphorical or otherwise).

He turns toward you, his stern face expressionless. After a moment, one of his eyebrows quirks up.

"Not in public, dear," he intones.

You're left spluttering, the tables so neatly turned on you. Never underestimate Fukuzawa.

#yokohamapound #bungou stray dogs #bsd headcanons #bsd imagines #Dazai Osamu #Fyodor Dostoevsky #Akutagawa Ryuunosuke #Nakahara Chuuya #Nakajima Atsushi #Edogawa Ranpo #Fukuzawa Yukichi #Dazai x Reader #Fyodor x Reader #Akutagawa x Reader #Chuuya x Reader #Atsushi x Reader #Ranpo x Reader #Fukuzawa x Reader

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spiderb00bs · 3 months ago

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- MURDEROUS LOVE

Tara Carpenter x (g!p) reader (requets) MDNI

" Tara Carpenter doesn't like Ghostfaces, but what happens if you're one of them?”

Genre – smut Warnings – Blood, degradation, reader is literally a murderer

Now playing – P*RNSTAR, by Nessa Barrett

The knife you were holding was completely stained with blood, the blood of another one of your victims. The tall guy, who was now dead on his own couch, was the same jerk who had flirted with Tara a few weeks ago. Tara wasn't your girlfriend, but there was something inside you that bubbled dangerously when some idiot like that hit on the younger Carpenter.

You didn't understand how these assholes thought they had the slightest chance with her, they were so stupid that you got angry, and that's why you decided it was better that they could never be able to breathe again.

Wiping the blood from your knife, you breathed heavily through the mask you wore. All the chasing and screaming of that idiot had excited you, and as if it were a sign from the universe, your phone rang, Tara's name on the message handle.

Babadook girl – I'm alone, do you want to come?

Seeing the message, your expression perked up under the mask, an idea popping into your head. You and Tara weren't official, you weren't dating, but maybe it was your chance to tell young Carpenter who she belonged to. By quickly typing a short answer, you left your victim's house, your effort to do a perfect job leaving you without a trace.

Meanwhile, Tara had the apartment to herself, silence hung in the corners of the room and young Carpenter was impatient, expecting you to be at her door at any moment. The television was showing some program that Tara was not very interested in watching. In fact, the girl was constantly looking in the direction of the door, as if it would make you get there faster.

When her phone rang on the table, Tara got a little startle, curling up on the couch before finally reaching for the electronics on the coffee table. "Unknown number" was what it said on the caller ID, and for a moment, Tara felt an agonizing shiver run down her spine. Pressing the green button, Tara brought the phone to her ear, she was sure the person on the other end of the line could hear her unregulated breathing, but she couldn't care less.

"Hello..."

"Why did it take you so long to answer me Tara?"

The same voice, that same distorted and sick voice was speaking to Tara now. The same voice she has nightmares about, the same voice with someone else under the mask. Tara's hand began to tremble, and before she could even text Sam, a noise of broken glass was heard inside the apartment.

Tara, who was in the living room, went in silent steps to the kitchen, grabbing one of the largest knives in one of the drawers, going to the corner of the wall and trying to normalize her breathing, the last thing she would want was to have an asthma attack now. Bringing the phone closer to her ear again, Tara heard a sinister laugh, making all of the younger Carpenter's senses grow two times stronger.

"Are you coming to find me? Or do you want me to come to you, Tara?"

"Fuck You." Looking in the direction of the hallway, Tara walked slowly to the door, trying her best not to make a sound.

"I can do that." The laugh that the person on the other line let out made Tara nauseous, the tone that Ghostface used was sinister and suggestive at the same time. "Why are you so shy Tara? You asked me to come..."

"I would never ask a motherfucker like you to come here!" Tara said, her breathing quickening as she tried to unlock the front door without making a sound.

From the sound she had heard, The Ghostface could only be in one of the rooms, and the last thing she wanted was for them to hear her opening the door. As the sound of the lock clicked across the apartment, Tara turned the handle, the sense of freedom quickly replaced by horror, as all she felt was Gosthface's gloved hand squeezing her neck.

Tara's phone was now on the floor, and when she tried to scream only grumbles came out when Ghostface put them hand over her mouth. Tara thought she had no more chance, she had ended up there.

"Did you think you were going to leave me, you bitch?" Tara didn't know what, but something about the touch of the person underneath the mask was unlike anything she'd ever experienced. "You called me here, Tara. It's not going to be that easy."

When the masked person threw Tara onto the couch and towered over her, all the young Carpenter did was fight, punching and kicking the masked person, who didn't seem to be affected by any of the woman's blows beneath them. But we all have a breaking point, and while none of Tara's blows hurt them, it was all becoming too much for the person under the mask.

"STOP IT FUCKING OFF!" The Ghostface screamed, pinning Tara's hands on top of her head, not too hard to hurt her, but strong enough to scare the young Carpenter. "DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND? I DID ALL THIS FOR YOU!"

Tara didn't know what to say, the words of the masked person on top of her didn't make sense. The sound of heavy breathing was all over the apartment, echoing over the walls. And it was only when Ghostface took off the mask, that everything clicked in Tara's head.

"Yn?" Tara was confused, tears running down her face. Seeing her friend, the person she had confided so much with, the girl she had fallen in love with, was just devastating. "Why?"

"Because I love you, Tara." You said, running one of your hands over the Carpenter girl's face, pulling out the wires that came out of place in the fight. "I did all this for you, baby. I killed all those guys, for you. You're mine, Tara."

Tara didn't want to, but looking at you, on top of her, saying that you did all this for her, made her excited. You could be arrested, you could ruin your future, you put everything to waste, for her. Young Carpenter knew that what she was feeling was sick and distorted, but she couldn't help it when it came to you.

"You didn't have to do that to have me, you could have said." Tara said, looking into your eyes, the same eyes she looked at when you were in bed together. "You killed people, Yn."

"No, no, no." You quickly denied it, the movement of your head emphasized what you were saying. "I killed boys. Those idiots who thought they had a chance with someone as perfect as you, Tara."

The puppy eyes you were giving Tara, made her melt, made her think you just wanted to protect her.

"Remember that idiot, the one who called you a whore because you said you wouldn't go out with him?! I killed that son of a bitch, Tara." The woman paid attention to your every word, it was not only making her ego grow, but also the moisture between her legs. "He died with my knife in his mouth, because only I can call you things like that, Tara. You are mine."

Stroking the woman's hair beneath you, you took a second to look at her, contrary to what you thought, Tara was no longer so scared, she seemed afraid of something, but not terrified like she was when you walked through the door.

"Did you do everything for me?" Tara asked, her legs were trapped by your weight on top of them, but you didn't let the way she rubbed her thighs pass.

"Why? Did you like it?" You asked, taking Tara's chin in your hand and making her look at you, with an embarrassed look. "Tell me if you liked it, Tara."

"Yes." The words came out of young Carpenter's mouth like a groan, making you start to think that she liked it as much as you did.

"You like it, don't you? You slut." Your grip was still firm on her cheeks, but Tara still managed to shake her head in confirmation. "You liked to know what I did to those idiots who tried to be like me, didn't you?!" Your free hand went down to the button of the pants Tara was wearing, unbuttoning and sliding in.

"God, yes. I only like it when it's you." Your fingers circled her clitoris, making the woman beneath you let out sighs and gasping moans.

"You're a little whore just for me, aren't you Tara?" Your fingers slippery enough that you finally slid them inside her.

"Fuck, yes. Please."

"Do you want to cum, Tara?" making a back and forth with your fingers, you got close to the young Carpenter's face, kissing her forehead and watching her confirm with her head. "Use your words, slut."

"yes, I want to cum." And as soon as the words left Tara's mouth, your fingers stopped moving.

Taking your hand out of the brunette's pants, you pulled her by the hair, making her get up from the couch. The moan that the woman let out was soon silenced by your mouth, which pulled her into a messy kiss. The two of you teeth collided in the kiss, and Tara could feel you bite her lip hard.

In the middle of the kiss, Tara's hands went down your black outfit, finding the zipper and lowering it. The brunette couldn't lie, but seeing you only in your bra and underwear did something to her, it was like you were walking around, killing the people who had already made her feel uncomfortable, only to come back and fuck her at the end of the day.

"Fuck, you're so hard." Tara said, getting off your lap and kneeling in front of you.

Her hand making up and down movements over the fabric was making you even more excited, and you couldn't believe it was really happening. The adrenaline rush of the things you'd done before and the moment you'd had with Tara had driven you crazy, wanting a piece of the Carpenter girl as soon as possible.

"All for you, baby." You said, helping Tara take your underwear off you.

Your cock jumped, landing on your abs, pre-cum was leaking from your pink tip and for a moment Tara was hypnotized.

"Do you love me, baby?" Starting the movements again, she looked at you with those big eyes that you knew very well.

"More than anything." Throwing your head back, you answered Tara's question, moaning as the woman on her knees gave a kiss to the pink head of your cock.

"Do you want to date me?" Tara asked, giving an experimental lick from the base to the head.

"Fuck, yes." Seeing you with your eyes closed and your head thrown back, Tara dug her nails into your thighs, making you moan in pain and look at her immediately.

"Then ask." What was she doing? She wasn't in charge, you were.

"What the fuck are you doing, you slut-" You tried to say, being cut as Tara dragged her nails across your skin, drops of blood forming in the tracks she had left.

"FUCK, YOU BITCH!"

"ASK, IF YOU DID ALL THAT FOR ME THEN PROVE IT!"

"FUCK! OKAY!"

Stopping the screaming for a second, Tara waited for you to say what she wanted to hear, and although she was afraid of what you could do to her because she said, deep down she knew you would never hurt her, you needed her.

"Tara, do you want to be my girlfriend?" You asked, making the brunette smile at you, not even answering you before putting part of your cock inside her mouth.

"Fuck!" To your surprise, you threw your head back again, then straightened up and tilted your head so that you could see all the work Tara was doing on you. "You're mine, only mine."

Your hand, which was now lovingly positioned on Tara's head, followed the woman's movements, Tara's mouth was hot, and all that stimulation was driving you crazy. The speed with which Tara's mouth worked on you and her hands jerking off what she couldn't put in her mouth, became too much for you.

"Tara, I'm going to cum."

Letting your cock slide out of her mouth, Tara stood up, moving away from you and making the knot in your stomach shrink considerably. With a tearful groan, you looked at Carpenter in front of you, who was unbuttoning her pants and sliding her panties down her heels.

"Sam will be coming soon, we don't have much time." Settling into your lap, Tara guided your cock to her pussy, your bodies fitting as if you were made for it.

When you finally entered the woman, the moans that came out of the two of you echoed through the apartment. At this point, Tara wouldn't even mind receiving a complaint about the noise, she just wanted you. Being inside Tara was paradise, and you never wanted to leave. Her walls embraced you with love and the sensation you felt made your eyes roll.

"Fuck, you're so tight, baby." You said, Tara moving her hands from your neck to your hair, messing it up as she pulled your head in, making you look at her.

"Is that what you wanted?" Tara asked, innocent eyes staring back at you. "Did you want me to be yours?!"

"Yes, only mine. None of those guys can touch you, because you're my slut." Spreading your hands on Tara's ass, you started to push inside her, making the woman on top of you let out moans of pleasure.

Even though she liked all the words you called her, and liked to see you being so dominant and powerful in your Ghostface outfit, Tara knew exactly how to control you,

make you think you'd always be in control of your relationship, when in fact, the younger Carpenter had you in the palm of her hand.

"I love you, baby. None of those guys will ever have you." You said, putting your hand on the brunette's neck and accelerating the pace of your thrusts.

"I'm yours, baby. Completely yours, no one else's."

Your impulses were fast, making Tara's moans get louder and louder, and you knew that meant she was about to cum. Placing your hand just below her abs, you applied pressure, causing Tara to scream louder than you thought she could. With your other hand, you drew circles on her clit, driving the woman beneath you crazy.

Rolling her eyes, Tara felt like she was in heaven, you hitting her non-stop, the pressure you made on her and your fingers working from her clitoris, were too much. Tara's body twitched, spasms coming out involuntarily, and you knew she was cumming when you felt the woman's insides tighten around you.

Without stopping your movements, you continued chasing your orgasm, while prolonging Tara's. Your eyes rolled back just like the woman below you, you let out a grunt accompanied by Tara's moan, who now contemplated the sensation of your warm seed pouring inside her.

Lying on the couch next to the smaller woman, you kissed Tara passionately, just a confirmation that everything was fine.

"That was amazing." Tara said looking at you. Her hand caressed your hair, trying to comb it back into place.

"I love you, Tara. And I don't regret anything." You said, watching Tara's eyes falter a little.

"we can talk about this later. We'll enjoy it while Sam wasn't here yet."

She didn't know how to make you stop, but she would have to find a way without you getting hurt.

Hi guys, the first request for this account has just been made.

Thank you to anon who placed the request <3

Stay safe, drink water

xoxo, spider.

#tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x female reader #tara carpenter x g!p reader #g!p reader #gxg imagine #gxg smut #spiderb00bs

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kenwio · 2 months ago

Text

Joker's kid reader! Blamed just for existing: how batfamily pushed them away

Route: black fog

Author`s note: study workload is crazy and I keep getting sick, but I finaly manage to work on the Black fog route. Sorry and hope you will like that

Warning: angst

Living in a manor was certainly better than living in the crime alley. You were safe, you had food, you even had your own room. All of this was great, sure, and for all of this you were deeply thankful for... but you couldn't shake of one icky feeling that was there no matter what. You never felt welcomed.

And taking the fact that you didn't even lift your hopes up that all of the batfamily members will love you, you couldn't deny that you got this uneasy feeling around them, it felt too heavy, too suffocating, too unbearable, too familiar. You felt like a plagued sick stray cat that was picked up from streets and placed into house with clean breed cats, and for all you knew, you hated how it felt. You felt like you were part of yet another experiment, and you hated this even more.

Yeah, Alfred was trying to care, and he genuinely tried to, but his gazes send chills down your spine, you felt like he was trying to analyze you, and it reminded you of how your father uses to stare at you, when he had experimented on you, as if he tried to figure out every single detail about you. And it didn't help that in trying to prove yourself helpful you ended up breaking things: dishes, cups, some electronics. You wished you were less clumsy, so that the old butler sees you are not that bad, that he sees you were trying to do something, to be less useless and more grateful for your new house. But all your hopes crumbled with every attempt. And in the end, you started giving up. If you are incapable to do things right, why doing them at all?

Tim analyzed your every move even more than Alfred did, but if you felt like old butler did it a subtle way, Tim didn't even hide it. And this was even more sickening, making you feel like a lab rat. You were sure that Tim would not hesitate to experiment on you too, and only thig stopping him now was the fact that Bruce took you in with another purpose. You felt like he was waiting for the time, as if you were the time bomb about to blow. Well, it was the same for Joker so automatically it's the same for you, Tim reassures himself. When you tried to approach, he didn't let you to, whether he walked away or closed the door. When you tried to speak, he put on his headphones. And it wasn't that bad, at least he looked at you, you thought hoping you could build your relationship on that. Maybe you two could find a way to get along, you thought catching another observant and hostile glare of the icy blue eyes.

And if Tim with Tim you felt like he hated you, with Jason and Damian it was more than obvious. Especially with Jason. It got to a point that you had to hide in your room when Jason was coming over. One time you noticed him in library when he was visiting the manor, and you decided to see what he was up to because you wanted to get to know him, but feared to approach him straight. Seeing him choosing a book, sitting in the sofa comfortably and reading the book was strangely comforting and fascinating view, the one you couldn't look away. But he caught you peeping, and the result of that was really ugly. He was livid, yelling at you with unimaginable anger, while all you could do is to shake as you listened to it all. After that you had to stay in your room when he was staying for dinner, night over, breakfast. You just didn't want to be yelled at like that anymore. You made him angry. You made him angry because all he saw in you were your father. You had to clue how to act with him, he to resolve it.

And as for Damian, you learned he saw you as threat, because of your background and his family background. He didn't even hide that he was ready to attack you any given moment. You felt unsafe when you noticed him. Every last bit of your self-preservation instinct was telling you he was a danger, even though he wasn't as enraged as Jason. You hated living in one corridor with him knowing that you will bump into each other, you will receive another mean comment from him. His comments cut deeper any knife your father used in you, but reviving them became a routine at this point. You just wish he could give you one chance. You just wish you could make him see that you were trying to adapt to your new life, but he didn't even give a second to think that you are not that bad. He knew you were the threat because of your father. He was going to protect his family, and you knew it held deep importance for him, but it broke your heart that he was protecting his family from you, who wanted to be in that family so bad.

It was better with Dick, much much better, but you swore the hostility others felt towards you was there with him, and you both could clearly feel it. Yet, he didn't seem to notice how this hostility of others made him hesitant to approach you too. Even though your first meeting gave you some hope that you still had a chance to make them see that you were willing to do anything to be close with someone, to have family. But he made clear you'll never be. He only played you a second of this attention before running off to do his stuff. You couldn't blame him, of course, he was busy you get that. But seeing him care about others, seeing him so bright and warm made you feel sick with jealousy, because you wanted what he gave him. But in the same time, you felt immense guilt. Not only for the jealousy, but for the thought he could care for you and for talking his precious time. His little siblings needed his help all because you came and disturbed their life. Dick was too sweet to try to act nice to you at all, because clearly you did not deserve it.

And as for Bruce, he was busy, and when he wasn't, he was awkward around you. Anything you did he analyzed even more than Tim and Alfred combined, he was even more distant than anyone and when he was trying to be nice with you it seemed even more forced than with Dick. Sometimes, you felt like he didn't see you, he saw someone else in you, but again, so did the rest of batfamily. And you knew oh so well who they saw. The joker. But for you it was even more hard, since he was the man who took you in. Why he did that if he didn't like you so much. You saw him being mentor, being dad, but he couldn't be it for you all because for your father. And you saw that he was trying to help, he even got you to psychiatrist, but he failed to realized what you truly needed was warmth, care and true parental figure.

And of course, you knew why exactly everything was so bad with trying to build your life in manor. You were the Joker's kid. You couldn't erase it. It printed in your being. You were the Joker's kid. The kid of the most famous Gotham villain, the kid of the wildfire of Gotham crime itself. And maybe even if for you it was obvious how different from you from how he was, even though even if you hated the man, even if he hurt you too, but it didn't matter. You couldn't change it. And it seemed no matter how hard you trued you couldn't prove you weren't like him.

You didn't choose it. You didn't want a father like that, you didn't want to be his test subject or goon. You didn't want to live in crime alley. But you had to live the life you so hated, feared and despised.

You were trapped in the shadow of your father, even though you hated it. But it seemed this shadow was stronger than anything else. This shadow followed you. This shadow poisoned your life and broke your pitiful attempts in trying to rebuild it to pieces. This shadow made you cry. This shadow took all the good things from you. This shadow made you miserable. This shadow broke your hopes and dreams.

This shadow was casted by a single fact.

You were the Joker's kid

That`s why batfamily would never be close with you.

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Thank you for reading! Feel free to let me know what you think about my work! Hope you have a good day

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if i forgot someone or anyone want to be added please let me know

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ceilidho · 4 months ago

Text

fear of god

prompt: There's someone outside the spacecraft. You don't remember them being part of the crew. Part 5 masterlist

The day starts poorly and ends worse.

You sit with Gaz’s words all night and decide by morning’s first light that it is worth worrying about them after all. But for a different reason. The worry you settle on is that your deteriorating mind is now giving you warning signals of troubles to come, manifested in the form of an astronaut outside of the ship. A messenger; a harbinger.

Breakfast is cold coffee over bit fingernails. You pull at a hangnail until it tears and pain zips up your finger, blood welling up under the split skin. Since you take your coffee in the medical unit these days, bandages and disinfectant are always within reach, meaning your fingers are always wrapped in them. Pigs in blankets.

You make your way across the ship when morning briefing comes, fingers throbbing by your sides.

Farah watches you from the other side of the cockpit during the briefing, her gaze inscrutable as ever. It takes a conscious effort not to shake under her stare. You’re not sure what she’s looking for, but whatever it is, it can’t be good.

In the background, Graves drones on about something that doesn’t penetrate through the thick miasma of your thoughts. It goes on for entirely too long. When he dismisses you all for the day, you stand up on crooked legs and hope they don’t buckle under you on the walk back to the medical unit. Farah’s eyes follow you until the door shuts behind you.

You make another coffee instead of getting started on your tasks for the day. Your research can wait. That’s what you tell yourself at least, nails tapping against the metal table while the coffee machine spurts out your drink in a short, violent burst. A thin, reedy hiss. No instant crystals this time. It tastes almost burnt when you bring it to your lips.

The mundanity of work pales in comparison to the events rapidly unfolding before your eyes. Are you sick or well? Is the man outside the ship real or not? Surely not, you tell yourself, pulse picking up again. You know better than that. Occam’s razor: the simplest explanation is most likely the correct one.

It’s just that you don’t like where your mind is going with this one.

The alarm goes off when your head is bent over the microscope, the sound so sudden and jarring that you nearly tumble right off your stool. It blares a piercing shriek through the medical unit and the hall outside, so loud that you cup your hands over your ears to hear yourself think. The stool clatters to the ground when you hurriedly slide off, heading towards the door.

You stumble into the hallway to find it flooded in red light, pulsating in steady intervals for any deaf crew members. It guides you like a beacon down the hall towards the cockpit. Standard protocol is to head to either extremity of the ship, lifepods stored at both the front and back of the ship in case of an emergency.

The others are already in the cockpit by the time you arrive. Claustrophobia sets in when the doors slide shut behind you, the room smaller with everyone packed inside at the same time.

You feel someone’s eyes flick towards you before flitting away in the same second. Accounted for and disregarded. Hardly meriting any attention when the alarm blaring overhead is a far more pressing concern.

Graves punches a button. “Ship, what’s the situation?”

Micrometeoroid impact

Damage sustained to starboard quarter

“Some of the photovoltaic cells are cracked,” Alex says, checking the status of the ship on another computer screen. “We have replacements though—could be worse.”

“Could be a lot fuckin’ better too,” Graves grumbles, forehead already pinched.

Despite not being an engineer or astrophysicist, you’ve gone on enough interplanetary voyages to understand the implications of damaging the photovoltaic solar panels. Much of the electronics on board rely on the electricity derived from sunlight; this particular ship, designed only to venture as far as Jupiter, isn’t equipped with an alternative power source.

“Should I engage the Canadarm to fix the damaged panel?” Alex asks from his perch.

Graves shakes his head. “We need to preserve as much power as possible while the cruise control is still out. It’ll have to be fixed manually.” With that said, he flips a switch to shut off the droning alarm, though the lights overhead stay red.

You flinch when the chief engineer slaps his hands down on his thighs, the sound jolting you out of your spiralling thoughts.

“Don’t worry, don’t worry,” he sighs, mock aggrieved. “I fix like usual. No problem.”

“Nothing different than what we trained for.”

“Easy peasy,” he confirms, an easy smile on his face.

“Okay, Nikolai, suit up—I’ll guide you from the cockpit,” Graves instructs, shifting into a mode you’ve never seen before. “Hadir, there’s a replacement panel in section seven in the cargo hold—get it and bring it back now. Nikolai’s going to have to fix it from the outside.”

The terror that lances through you when Graves says that is immediate and sharp. You know nothing’s out there, but the fear response is as real as if something were.

It’s an unwarranted response, fueled by paranoia and delusion. This is a scenario the crew has prepared for back on Earth a multitude of times. They wouldn’t have been given clearance to leave the planet without having run through every potential complication and calamity. There are strict regulations to follow, protocols and standards to ensure that nothing comes as a surprise.

But still—

Your chest is tight. Heart pounding against your ribcage so hard that you wince. There’s no one outside the ship but still you can’t help but think that opening the doors might let it in.

When Nikolai leaves to suit up for the spacewalk, you trail after him, following Farah’s lead. You didn’t notice that Hadir had already departed, but his absence is glaring on the walk towards the airlock.

“Smile a little, Farah,” Nikolai says, poking fun at the eternally stern woman keeping pace with him. “It’s good to have some excitement around here.”

“I’m not a fan of excitement,” she responds, voice terse. He laughs at her words, the booming sound echoing through the corridor.

You watch helplessly as Nikolai gears up, Farah helping him lock the helmet into his suit, doing a quick, final inspection of the glass to ensure that there aren’t any cracks or scratches.

The glass of Nikolai’s visor glints opalescent under the station lights, the glass infused with low-grade aerogel to protect from interplanetary radiation and solar winds. Packets of higher grade aerogel are stuffed into the lining of his suit, protecting the rest of his body as well.

Hadir returns not long after with all of the requisite parts needed for the repair neatly stored in a rectangular container that attaches securely to the front of Nikolai’s suit, leaving his hands free. The three move in synchrony, a finely-tuned dance practiced repeatedly in the months leading up to the launch.

You keep to the wall in order to avoid getting in the way.

The first door leading into the airlock is opened when Nikolai finally gives Farah the word, their checklist run through twice before being met with approval.

Nikolai deliberately turns away from the door when the airlock door shuts behind him and the chamber begins to depressurize. You wince sympathetically when you notice his shoulders tense. The oxygen in his tanks is specially designed to purge the nitrogen from his blood, but under better conditions, he would’ve spent closer to an hour prebreathing in order to transition from high to low pressure.

He only gets a few minutes to adjust. When his allotted time expires, the second pair of doors slide open—the last partition between the inner and outer world—and Nikolai takes his first step towards the darkness of space.

You can’t watch after that. Instead, you hurry back to the cockpit, jaw so tight that it aches.

Graves looks up when you enter, but otherwise doesn’t say a word to you. Alex flashes you a brief, tense grin. The first couple of minutes of any space walk are always nerve wracking, despite the reassurance of preparation and all times before. There’s an inherent anxiety in seeing the human body go out into the cold vastness of space.

“Nikolai—you copy?” Graves asks through the transmitter.

The receiver crackles. “Loud and clear, boss,” he rumbles, accent thick even over radio waves.

A shadow of a smile flits over Graves’ face, the tension in the room briefly relieved. Even your shoulders lower at the sound of his voice.

“You sound better like this,” Graves teases. “Less nasally.”

“I’ll ask your mum the next time she calls,” Nikolai rebuts, a similar teasing sneer in his voice.

“Asshole,” Graves laughs, keeping his finger on the button the whole time.

The camaraderie would usually make your heart ache. Not today though. There’s no space for anything other than worry.

“Proceeding towards starboard,” Nikolai says, narrating his movements for the benefit of those on board.

There aren’t any cameras on the outside of the ship, meaning the crew can only communicate with the man via audio. On a newer spacecraft that might not be the case, but this ship is old, a relic of times past, her maiden voyage predating the addition of exterior cameras.

You wait in the cockpit with Alex and Graves while Nikolai repairs the panel outside, nerves shot. A half hour passes by without thought. You dig your nails into the palm of your hands and wait it out, each minute feeling eternal, elongated somehow. Every so often, the receiver crackles and Nikolai gives an update on his work. Each time, the crackle makes you flinch.

Despite the unease churning in your stomach, the amount of time isn’t suspect; you know he has to disconnect and remove the damaged panel section before installing a replacement panel.

Yet, you can’t quite shake the nausea building in your stomach. The way it cramps and flutters.

At some point during the wait, Farah slips into the room, and you only notice her when you twist your head from side to side to stretch out the muscles in your neck and find her leaning against the wall next to the door, arms crossed tight over her chest.

For someone who has most certainly monitored and participated on spacewalks before, you’re surprised to find her just as anxious as you, albeit better at concealing it. You’d have thought of all people, she’d be the most comfortable. Instead, her eyes stare sightlessly at the flight deck window, finger tapping against her elbow; a nervous twitch.

The receiver crackles again. “Panel secure. Heading back n—”

Both Graves and Alex sit up straighter, staring down at the receiver as if anticipating the rest of the sentence. It never comes. You feel a sweat break on the back of your neck.

Graves presses a button. “Nikolai, we didn’t catch that. Say again.”

He’s met with a deeper, more prolonged silence.

“Nikolai?” Graves repeats into the mic, his voice broadcast over the intercom system throughout the ship. “Nikolai, do you copy?”

Silence. Nikolai’s transmitter crackles in response, as if his finger were on the button, but his voice never follows.

“Kolya?” Graves asks, and you can hear the sliver of desperation, the worry couched in professional concern. You’ve never heard him use that name before.

Another minute goes by without a response. The tension is thick in the air.

The sound of the door to the cockpit opening cuts through the air and you turn to watch as Farah leaves without a word. Again, puppyish, you follow after her. You’re not sure why. Her back is ramrod straight as she marches down the hall, tension rippling down her shoulders. She doesn’t acknowledge your presence as you make your way down the corridor together.

The two of you stare out the first porthole for some time before proceeding to the airlock further down the hall. No sign of Nikolai. Graves’ voice crackles over the intercom, keeping the crew dispersed throughout the ship abreast of any sign of Nikolai.

“I’m going out,” Farah abruptly announces, punching in the code for the second spacesuit locker.

“Huh?” you ask dumbly, watching as she rips the zipper down the length of the suit to open it and starts to tug it out of the locker.

“I’m going to check on him,” she repeats, enunciating each individual word as if you didn’t hear her the first time.

“Is that—is that a good idea? Shouldn’t you consult the commander before—”

It isn’t your place to question her, but an instinct deep inside of you says don’t go out there, don’t go out. What’s out there should stay out there.

“This is my job, doctor,” she cuts you off, finally wrenching the second suit out of the locker and jamming her leg into the lower torso component. “I don’t tell you how to do your job and you certainly don’t tell me how to do mine—”

Then, somehow, you both see it at the same time. A hand pressed flat to the airlock window, the fingers spread wide. The body attached to it must still be hanging off the side of the ship because you don’t see the rest of him, just a palm open wide on the far edge of the window. And though Farah breathes thank fuck, Kolya under her breath—the most relieved you’ve ever heard her—your stomach cramps and your palms grow clammy.

The spacesuit she’d been about to step into falls to the floor in a heap. From the corner of your eye, you see Farah reach for the airlock lever to open the door, and your hand instinctively goes up as well, your fingers closing around her wrist to hold her in place.

“Wait.” It’s your voice but not your voice. It’s your fingers around her wrist though, staying her hand. It’s your stomach cramped up in a Gordian knot, bile at the back of your throat because this is wrong, this is wrong, this is wrong.

She wrenches her wrist out of your grasp with more strength than you anticipated, pulling down the lever in the next breath. The look she sends you as the exterior door slides open is scathing.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” she snaps, her repressed fury coming to life. You can feel it now coming off her in waves—the days of doubt and mistrust, so unsettled by your actions to the point that now she snarls at you without a second thought.

Your lips part but nothing comes out. No way to explain yourself, just the gut feeling of something terribly wrong.

All you can do is watch as the first set of doors open to the blackness of space, your body frozen where you stand, heart in your throat. The hand briefly disappears from the window just to reappear a second later, gripping the side of the door to haul himself inside. His movements are slow and deliberate, hampered by the lack of gravity.

You notice the glaring issue almost immediately, but your throat is far too dry for you to speak. You wonder if Farah has noticed it as well. The man in the spacesuit taking his first step into the airlock is leaner than the man who left. Shorter too. Not the bear of a man that stepped out just an hour ago, but someone new. Someone that now flips the switch on the interior wall to shut the door behind him, which it does noiselessly.

“Farah,” you whisper uncertainly. She doesn’t respond. You wish you could turn your head to look at her, but you can’t rip your eyes off the man in the airlock.

You wait with baited breath for the airlock to repressurize the first chamber. It takes as long as it did to depressurize in the first place, an agonizing handful of minutes that you can only spend staring at the man standing in the middle of the chamber, his visor still tilted too low for you to make out his face.

But you know, don’t you?

With a door separating the two of you, the sound never actually reaches your ears, but you swear you can almost hear the hiss of his helmet unlocking. You’re sweating hard now, heart racing in your chest and still you blink twice, hoping that the man behind the glass will suddenly disappear or suddenly grow in size.

The man reaches two gloves hands up to twist the helmet out of its locked position and then slowly pulls it off, revealing a face that you’ve become familiar with these past few days. Dark skin and a high fade. A scar high on his cheekbone, the wound long healed.

“Farah,” you say again, and your voice cracks this time. Beside you, you hear her let out a shuddering breath.

Through the glass, he smiles at you, full lips pulling apart to expose a row of gleaming white teeth. He waves a thick-fingered, gloved hand and mouths your name.

#ceil writing #cod x reader #gaz x reader #gaz x you #kyle garrick x reader #kyle garrick x you #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick x you #gaz/reader

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shadowbriar · 4 months ago

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Bucky Barnes — Dishwasher

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x (she/her) wife!Reader Word Count : 1.5k Warning : None? Synopsis : Bucky knew that he was a man out of time, but never would he expect that this world no longer accepts home appliances as presents. Notes : If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕

Bucky’s palms were starting to sweat. He knows when she’ll return home, down to its minutes, but he still couldn’t shake the jitters that were brewing up his spine. He has more than enough window to finish his quest, perhaps even sparing himself a good other hour to clean up any possible mess and wipe the apartment clean before she could smell anything amiss, but with the ticking of the clock taunting on him, agitation was starting to pool a little thicker in his gut.

He taps on his watch, wondering where the technicians that were supposed to be here half an hour ago might be at. The drive from the store to their apartment shouldn’t be that complicated. He’s written in bold font the address and their unit number. There should be no issue for them to find it.

He was just about to ring the store when the doorbell rang.

“Mr. Barnes?” one of the technicians asked, looking at the clipboard in his hand “You ordered a dishwasher, Sir?”

“Yes,” Bucky answers with a slightly annoyed grunt “I’ve been expecting you.”

The technician shows a corporate disinterested smile, walking in the apartment as his partner wheeled the boxed item.

“Where do you want us to install it, Sir?”

“Right here,” Bucky says as he pulls the cabinet door that hid their old dishwasher “Could you bring the old one with you? I’d rather not leave any trace of mischief for my wife to find.”

“Of course,” the technician says as he begins to unbox the appliance “Wait, you didn’t make this your wife’s Christmas present, right?”

Bucky frowns, shaking his head with his brows knitted, “No, why?”

“Cause the guy at the last house did and that was a bad scene, man,” the other guy finally speaks up.

“Bad scene, why?” Bucky’s arms were folded to his chest now “They didn’t like the dishwasher?”

“No,” the first guy snorted with his laugh “They didn’t like it, alright.”

“The wife was insulted. Said home appliances don’t count as a gift,” the second guy further explained as he begins to take out the tools to install the item “She said it’s not fair that she always gets ‘gifts’ that are just things that their household needs to function while he gets all the niche personalised presents.”

“Not going to lie, I felt bad for the lady,” first guy chimed in “It was a bloodbath there, man. She was yelling and crying by the time we finished installing the dishwasher. Poor woman, I hope the husband found her something better for Christmas.”

Bucky could only nod in agreement. The crease on his forehead only gets deeper as the technicians continue their story. A new sense of guilt and anxiety brewed in his stomach. Perhaps the dishwasher wasn’t a great idea, afterall.

At first, he thought giving out a lie to a random technician about whether or not the item was his Christmas gift for her wife would never bring any harm. These men are just strangers that need not know any of his business, anyway. But now that they’ve told the story of their last customer, Bucky wonders if he should’ve just answered truthfully and see if these men have any better ideas for a replacement gift.

In his defence, the dishwasher was something she said was listed in her wishlist. He got her the very one she pointed at when they went to the electronic store the other day, down to the very colour that she said was her favourite. He thought that this would be the grand gift to reveal for her, the grandiose early Christmas present that would get her jumping and squealing in excitement, but having the story sinking into his brain now, such fantasy might not be the reality he’ll witness.

Bucky knew that he was a man out of time. That the world has progressed in ways that his mind couldn’t catch up still, but never would he expect that this world no longer accepts home appliances as presents. Perhaps he needs to whip out that notebook of his again and relearn the rules of gift giving in the twenty-first century.

—-

“Doll,” Bucky starts while his fingers cut through the meat of his dinner, trying his best to act as nonchalant as he could “I have a proposal to offer.”

She nods, chewing her food, “I’m listening.”

“Since you’re pretty busy with work and I have the whole month off from missions, why don’t I take the kitchen duty? I’ll cook our meals, make our coffee, wash the dishes, everything that’s involved in the kitchen, I’ll take care of it.”

Her head darts up to face him, an impressed smile tugs on the corner of her lips, “Okay..? Why?”

“Just wanted to take some of the burden off your shoulders,” Bucky lies through his teeth, shrugging “I’ve seen just how tired you’ve been lately. It’s the least I could do.”

“You’re very sweet,” she replies as she places a small kiss to his forearm “I’ll take the laundry duty, then.”

Bucky smiles, nodding in agreement.

His brain has been wiring since the technicians left their apartment. He wonders what he could get for her that would match the brilliance of the dishwasher that he thought would have been. He tries to squeeze the essence of his memory, trying to find anything that she might have mentioned that he could get for her, but everything she’s ever told, he’s bought, and he still wasn’t sure if there would be anything bigger than the dishwasher.

Now priding himself as a good husband, how could he not know what his wife wants most?

—-

In his defence, a twenty minutes longer sleep was something he earned for all the hard work he’s done in the kitchen for the past week. Bucky has made every meal, every coffee and every snack that he’s promised to make. He’s taken out the trash without being asked and has done all the dishes before the grease could even set on their plate. Now he might be a supersoldier, alright, but waking up early to brew some coffee and make breakfast was still something he’s not accustomed to and letting his eyes rest a little bit longer feels like a reward he’s very well earned.

So now he finds himself buried under the many layers of their blankets. The fluffiness of their pillows and how the scent of her shampoo still lingers on them made him drown in the pool of comfortness. He snuggles tighter to the pillows, burying his face on the softness of its fabric, before slumber was abruptly yanked off of his feet.

“Good morning,” she says after jumping right on top of him, now sitting on his stomach with a teeth-rotting grin “I love you.”

“I love you too, Sweetheart,” Bucky grunts, smiling through the regret of his lost doze “You’re up early.”

“No, I woke up on time. You’re just taking a little more nap than usual,” she answers as showers his jaw with kisses “When were you going to tell me?”

His eyebrows knit, trying to understand her words with a brain that’s still partially asleep, “Tell you what?”

“That you got me the dishwasher.”

Bucky’s eyes shot wide. His blue fraught-filled eyes were clashing against her fevered ones. He studies her face, trying to find any trace of disappointment or anger, but the only things he could find were the lovely creases around her eyes and the big grin that he thought must’ve ache her cheeks after a while.

He sits up, leaning against the bed frame as he tries to assess his situation better. Wrath was devoid from her face. She was jumping a little, evidently excited upon unravelling his confidence. Something that he wasn’t sure how to react to now.

“You’re not mad?” he asks instead.

“Why would I be mad? You got me the dishwasher!” she exclaims, placing another kiss to his lips “I was planning to get it next week after my Christmas bonus is in, but here you are playing Santa. You’re quite literally crossing wishes off my list. I love you.”

“I love you,” he answers “But— You’re sure you’re not mad?”

She sits up, studying his attentive manner with a raised brow, “Why would I be mad?”

“Because the technicians said home appliances don’t count as presents anymore,” Bucky answers, looking further lost “They said dishwashers don’t count as Christmas presents.”

“Sure, they do! Home appliances or not, a present is a present,” she argues “It’ll only be an insult if all your gifts are home appliances. That wouldn’t count as Christmas presents. But that’s not what you’re doing. You’re giving me something that I want, which so happens to be a dishwasher.”

Bucky closes his eyes, letting out a sigh, “I am so confused right now. I thought I ruined your Christmas.”

“On the contrary, you’ve just made my Christmas,” she beams, pampering his face with little kisses “I love you, thank you.”

“I love you, Doll,” with his eyes still closed, Bucky pulls her face to his chest, trying to tame her excitement a little so he could recollect the drowsiness that was slipping off his fingertips “Does this mean I can forfeit from kitchen duties, now that you’ve found the surprise?”

She looks up, resting her chin to his chest with a satisfied laughter, “Yes, baby, we can get back to our usual schedule now.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes scenario #bucky barnes scenarios #bucky barnes x oc

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keferon · 5 months ago

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My friend is urging me to resubmit this because they're sure it must have been askbox eaten, my deepest apologies if this is a repeat.

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Jazz breathed out. He’d been screened, and the chance of him collapsing into a complete, insane mess was very, very low. He kind of wished that they’d tell him exactly how low. That would be nice and reassuring, unless it wasn’t, at which point he would… go ahead with it anyway, because what else was there to do at this point?

One motion jacked in the last cable, and then there was… something. A sensation, like electricity and like opening. There was something outside of him, on the edge. The mech, probably. It wasn’t like there were testimonials about this. Yet. Maybe he should write one, when this was over, so that baby mech pilots would know what the hell to expect. So long as he was able to do that.

He was stalling.

Jazz breathed in, and pushed outwards.

Then began to run out of himself, spilling to fill the new space that he’d found. It was a strange sensation, like water and electricity flowing out of him. He blinked, and shook his head, filing the thought for a song or something. Always important to save lines when you thought of them.

Jazz blinked again. Oh. This wasn’t the inside of the cockpit. This was the inside of the hanger. That was… good. That was good. And now that he checked, he’d backed that line up to some kind of electronic memory. That was probably meant for recording encounters with the monsters, not for keeping up with the poetical ideas of the pilot. Ah well, his idle thoughts probably wouldn’t take up enough room for anyone to notice or care. He put a lock on it anyway. If they asked him to explain it, he’d just wink at them and say that they didn’t want to know everything that he thought.

Carefully, he flexed his hand. It was different, but not bad different. His connections and struts communicated feedback to him, telling him how much strain they could take, what materials they were made of, how far they could bend. It was kind of cool to have this level of detail about his body.

Checking the power levels, Jazz was made aware that his human body would shut down far before his mech one. There was enough auxiliary power in here for two weeks- oh, and there was a storage cache in here. What was that supposed to be for? It was airtight, he knew his own seals. Big enough for food, water, and medical supplies, as well as some mech repair tools and materials. Fuck whatever it was supposed to be for, it was gonna be his don’t die cabinet. Closet. Pantry. Whatever. Supply room. That was better. He added the new designation to his mental map. It slotted right in, nice.

There was actually a lot of empty space in here. He should get some tape and ties and bundle the cables in some of his limbs so that they didn’t rattle around and tangle. They could even get unplugged if they got tied up enough, which was a hazard. Who had built this thing? Having an actual person to make complaints to about how his body was built was going to be nice.

Wait.

Okay.

Jazz needed to get back to himself. This wasn’t his body. He had done the basic checks. He needed to unjack the cable and check that he was alright.

He reached up, and the mech hand moved.

Okay. Don’t panic. Panic is not useful. Panic is bad. He could feel his fans- the fans of the mech kicking up. It thought that he was in a fight, and was preparing. It wasn’t exactly helpful for what he was trying to do. It made him feel more present and alive in the body that wasn’t supposed to be his body.

Jazz offlined his optics that weren’t supposed to be his, and tried to retreat. Tucking himself back in, becoming small again. It hurt, and he cringed back outward. Why was he hurting himself? Because he needed to. He crunched down harder, forcing himself out of his own (NOT his own) systems. Pressing himself into that small organic core again.

Finally, he brought up a human arm and unplugged himself.

The face was damp. Why was it damp? His face was damp. He had been crying. Probably from pain.

Was being human supposed to hurt? Being a mech hadn’t hurt at all. Inhabiting. Using. Using a mech hadn’t hurt at all. Vocabulary. Word choice. Very important, he’s written enough songs to know that.

He’d thought of a good line during that, hadn’t he? But when he tried to access it- remember it- ah. It was in the mech. Which he wasn’t in right now. Well, he was in it, but he wasn’t it. Because he was a human and wasn’t a mech.

Jazz breathed in, staring at the cable in his hands. It would be so easy to plug it back in, just to get to the line.

It would hurt so much to be human again.

Jazz breathed out, put down the cable, and began the process of getting himself out of the mech.

OOHHHHHH WAIT I HAVENT SEEN THIS OH MY GOD OTROKRKGKEL

#mecha pilot jazz au #thank you for your writing AND for submitting ehehemhmhm #my inbox became an absolute mess since that au started haha

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moonastro · 8 months ago

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groom persona chart

jupiter in the houses

what is a groom persona chart? this chart exhibits qualities that your husband will have and possible placements that can be seen in their chart. it is simply a chart all about your spouse in a woman's chart. the asteroid groom can be identified using the code 5129.

Jupiter is the planet of wisdom, growth, luck and expansion. in the GPC it can tell us how the husband finds luck and how they may expand their their opportunities and where they may find purpose in learning things.

jupiter in 1st house: your fs can have luck with their appearance and how they look. They can honestly look good in anything that they do or anything that they wear. They have luck when it comes to how they present themselves to the world and may have plenty of lucky interactions or opportunities that they simply get because of their good vibes or how they appear to the world. They find growth in areas to do with their appearance, your future husbands appearance may change a lot whether it’s style or the vibe or simply just change of personality, like for example if 1st house is in Libra they can change their aesthetics and their accessories that they may wear but they have luck when looking after themselves if that makes sense. They can have the tendency to enjoy themselves a little too much and be in the zone of thinking they are everything which if handled excessively it can make them gain weight, develop health problems, greed, make them think they are better than everyone etc. but this can only occur if there are bad aspects towards Jupiter especially if Mars is conjunct or if there are squares to Jupiter.

jupiter in 2nd house: with this placement, the fs can find luck within the home and when it comes to comfort. he can have luck comfort wise meaning that he may always be comfortable and he may never stress or worry about not having to not have a home. he may have luck with finance and so he may have a steady pay check and can not worry as much about their stream of income because he will always either find loyalty dedicated to his job or will have more that one streams of income so he's all set. the sign can have a little bit of significance as well so for example if in sagittarius, can have luck in finance overseas and especially in foreign land. this placement is a huge placement of loyalty and how your husband can have wisdom and has his head wrapped around the fact that loyalty is the most important thing in the relationship.

jupiter in 3rd house: the fs will tend to have luck when it comes to electronics and vehicles. With this placements I noticed that a lot of the grooms know how to fix cars and know so much about cars in general, they can also be very good drivers and may have a very deep fond about them. Also with electronics they tend to know a lot about them as well, they may know what phone is the best and their interior and exterior and just anything to do with laptops, computers etc. they tend to have opportunities with his siblings so they may be very close with them and may prioritise their sibling or siblings. Another thing with your fs is that he may like to take road trips a lot, and especially take you along with him, since no questions asked with their interest in cars it only makes sense when they go out for a spin in their car. In addition your fs can be very interactive with people around him so he may be very communicative with others and is an easy person to talk to. For example may like small talk with strangers and such.

jupiter in 4th house: fs may develop a sense and desire to have a family. This may be because it may bring them luck in life when having someone to care and look after. They tend to attract luck when taking care of others and being protective with those around him. He may have luck with his home and depending on the sign it’s in it can tell us a bit more. So for example if in Virgo, can have luck when being delicate and precise with the interior of the house and may have an eye for such things. If in Leo, can be very good with children in the house and may have a way with them and know how to prepare meals, play with them etc. your fs may have opportunities with bettering the home and such, this can be an indication of them having a good eye for a cosy home so expect him to have a fabulous and cosy home. If aspected badly can be overly protective and can become very strict within the household almost to the point where they don’t appreciate their family members and are too focused on being in control.

jupiter in 5th house: your husband can have plenty of luck when it comes to them attracting attention and an audience. They are very good bribers and are very good with making everything around them look good. Can have luck with children, their hobbies, can be good at anything that is fun for them. So whatever your fs may find entertaining or he has a deep interest in he will for sure be very good at it as he takes his interest to heart and for him being interested in something isn’t enough, he has to know EVERYTHING about it. Fs can have luck in romance, so he can be a very subtle yet beautiful a pro when it comes to attracting people. He has this talent of making nothing be embarrassing for him because he may have too much ego and can just be very confident in himself that there is no need for him to doubt himself.

jupiter in 6th house: your fs may find luck in every day simple things. he may not be aware as much but lots of every day things may go very smoothly. he may rarely have any major problems in life and if he does then he is the one who knows how to fix it and get passed the hurdle. he can find luck in his job as well, with this placement he may not worry about trying to acquire a job or trying to get a job as it may come to him naturally. your fs service to others whether it be being generous or just simply being helpful for others can bring luck to him. depending on the sign, this placement can add some touches of meaning to it, for example if in gemini, spouse may have resolutions to do with intellectual ability so he may be smart and be analytical. with this placement also when 6th house represents daily routine and handiness, jupiter in gemini or aquarius can mean that spouse can be handy with technology and may have a fair hand with tech stuff.

jupiter in 7th house: your fs can have luck when it comes to having people on their side. This can develop them to have lots of opportunities because of their relationship to other people. They are natural charmers and can use their charm to make other like them however if aspected badly can lead to others being overly jealous of their success or how they may be liked by people and can cause enemies. They are someone who speaks their mind and has a very creative and broad mind. They can have the most obnoxious thoughts and ideas that may bring them attention. It is as if whatever they say or that comes out of his mouth other people tend to agree with him and your fs makes it sound appealing.

jupiter in 8th house: the future husband can have a lot of inheritances to his name. He may make lots of money due to being smart financially and that can set him up for luck money wise. Can have luck with getting money from other people, and getting things from others as well. This can be either a very good placement or a very bad one depending on the sign and aspects. If it is in Taurus, can be very lazy with their finance and when given the opportunity to invest or do something with an inheritance they can splurge the money and not be very careful with how they treat it which can lead to losing the money very fast. But if in Leo, can have lots of motive to strive to better the amount that they are given and can strive to double the amount that they got from an inheritance for example. Your fs may also have opportunities when it comes to figuring others out. This can mean that they have a very good intuition and can read a person very well. Which can save them their energy on getting involved with the wrong person. They can tend to reserve their energy and be quite isolated at times, most of the time it’s needed for them to strive better in life.

jupiter in 9th house: your fs can have luck generally and with a variety of things. He can be seen as a very very lucky individual. As Jupiter is in its own sign it is very happy here that can bring extra luck to your husband. Can often be very wise in life meaning that he may know a lot of facts and a lot of knowledge about life and the world. He can seem to know everything to put it into simple perspective. He may have lots of opportunities when it comes to education and wisdom. So for example he may get invited or attend lots of talks, he may have multiple of degrees from universities, he can have a fondness of collecting things and learning new things. He may never get tired of learning as learning can be what keeps him alive and free. Another thing is that freedom is very important to him, so it’s best for him to do what his heart most desires in order for him to not feel unaccomplished in life.

jupiter in 10th house: your fs can have luck in finance and with money. Can have luck with their career meaning that they can have a well respected and good paying job that they worked hard for. For this placement I have noticed that whatever they may put their mind towards or something that they want very badly if they work hard for it they will get it because this placements hard work will work out for them. They can have lots and lots of career opportunities whether it’s promotions or meeting with vip people or just opportunities that people would only dream of they may experience them. They can go through most of their luck in their job so that can mean that most of the good things that happen to him may happen in their job or during their job. His career is like the centre of his life and it’s what makes him want to live the best life.

jupiter in 11th house: the husband has luck when interacting with other people and when meeting strangers in general. He may have this social ability that gives him the natural sense of starting a conversation with other people. And the thing with this placement that I picked up on is that they don’t have a care in the world either, they can rarely get embarrassed or they just simply don’t care what they do and who sees them. This is a very lucky placement so your spouse can generally have luck with anything they they do, they can have luck in the most simple of things and they may not even realise that it’s lucky because it happens to them all the time so they don’t even second guess it.

jupiter in 12th house: your fs can have luck when it comes to all things spirituality. They can develop a lot of luck when they are working on themselves and being mindful and bettering their mental health and so forth. They can tend to have luck when they travel, seek a religion or have faith in anything. They can attract a lot of luck from the higher realm meaning they may be spiritually protected so if anyone does them harm or get on the wrong side of him they are going to get hurt. They can also be very psychic and cannot even know it, for example can predict things that haven’t happened yet or say something and the best day it happens sort of thing. But they may not be aware of that and if not attune with this ability may think it’s just a coincidence. Can have opportunities to go abroad, to help people, to teach people and especially to work on themselves. And these opportunities will help him with his path.

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#groom persona chart #groom asteroid #jupiter #astrology blog #astrology chart #tarotcommunity #astrologer #free reading #astrology

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