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#there's so much more going into later stuff
vincentbriggs · 3 days
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so i am newly in a wheelchair which has been a Massive gain in my ability to go out and about. but i realized that i have aprox 0 clothes that look Good while seated. its a completely different silhouette and i am at a loss as to what to do for it. do you have any suggestions for what could look good seated? preferably no skirts or dresses.
Edit: Check the notes for more people's input, including actual wheelchair users who know much more about what works than I could!
Congrats on chair acquisition!!
Since you're sending this to me specifically I am working under the assumption that you mean to do some amount of sewing.
A high waisted silhouette definitely works best for sitting. I make all my pants with the waistband at my natural waist, and a bit of pleating or gathering at the back just like they did on 18th century breeches, and I've never noticed any particular discomfort from sitting in them. (I think high waisted pants are more comfortable in general, and that low rise jeans are evil.)
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It's something I've never really thought about before, but sitting is a very legs-forward position, so perhaps a colourful or fancy stripe down the side would work well.
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(I made this pair 10 years ago and they didn't fit well and are long gone, but I should do a better version someday...)
Or some other form of side seam decoration, like these fabulous button tabs.
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(I don't know what the source for this mid 19th century fashion plate is.)
Cropped jackets would also be good. The first thing that comes to mind for me is the Carmagnole, which was a style worn by French revolutionaries. It's got a pretty similar cut to a regular 1790's coat, just shorter.
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(Source)
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(Source)
And there are other styles of short jacket, like this one from a few decades later.
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I think it might be possible to get a similar effect from cutting down a thrifted corduroy jacket, depending on the pocket placement? It's not something I've done myself though.
A fancy little bolero could be a lot of fun too! I quite like these ones made by Marlowe Lune. Super easy to sew, and could be patterned by cutting down a bigger pattern that fits the torso.
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They'd be a good thing to try if you have a smallish piece of fancy fabric, or a small bit trim to use, or want to try a small amount of embroidery.
There are lots of historical styles with sleeves too, and all sorts of decorations.
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(Dunno the source for this one either, unfortunately, but the pin says 1880s reception dress. I think a little jacket like that would look good with a puffy shirt and pants.)
Short capes might be practical too, and the late 19th and early 20th century have tons of fancy capelets for inspiration, like this one.
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Or this one.
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I hope this is somehow helpful! I don't know if you're looking to sew things from scratch or to buy and alter stuff or what, and I have no personal experience using a wheelchair, but these are the best things I can think of for a suitable silhouette. Dramatic sleeve/shoulder puffs would also be shown off to great effect, if that's something you'd like to wear.
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hannieehaee · 2 days
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BOY WITH LUV (teaser)
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18+ / mdi
summary: a new job as a barista should be easy enough, right? except it gets a whole lot more complicated when the coffee shop's most loved client just decides he has to have you OR richboy!jk falls for barista!reader and refuses to give up.
content: richboy!jk, downbad!jk, barista!reader, sub-ish!jk, reader plays hard to get just for plot purposes, jk is down horribly bad for reader, afab reader, smut, dry humping, jk's the embodiment of needy, fingering, oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, etc.
(^ no actual content warnings in the teaser)
wc: 1.2k (teaser); 8.8k (full fic)
RELEASE DATE: october 22nd
or you can check it out on my patreon today by subscribing!
a/n: downbad!jk is back!
masterlist | patreon
"Anyways just be careful with how many pumps you add to drinks. Customers can be extremely sensitive about that kind of stuff. Trust me," rambled on your new trainer, Jen? Jess? Something like that.
You watched disinterested, already having had a menial barista job in the past and being well aware of the high expectations of disgruntled customers. You, too, had been verbally harassed by one too many people in dire need of a drink far too specific for the average person to memorize. It was still appreciated, though, the effort she took in walking you through every step to ensure you did good at your new position.
Despite your focus on the task being demonstrated to you not being at its best, you did take notice when Jean(?) stopped her mentoring and instead spilled some of the drink she was currently making, clearly now equally as distracted as you. Her focus was no longer on the counter you were practicing drinks on, but instead looking past you and towards the counter a few steps behind you.
You meant to call out her name to question her, but without an angle on her name tag or any confidence in actually remembering the correct name, you simply grabbed at a nearby towel and cleaned off the mess, not bothering to look at whatever was distracting her. It was too early for you to bother.
Snapping out of her trance mere seconds later, she tapped at your shoulder urgently, her voice now a whisper as she leaned close for you to hear what she was about to say.
"Oh my God, don't look, but that's Jungkook," she whispered excitedly, as if letting you in on information you had any context about — hint: you had no idea who nor what she was referring to.
Turning around, you eyed another one of your new coworkers tending to the line at the counter, but more specifically helping out some guy. Focusing your eyes on him, you could now understand why his presence had caused a short-circuit in Jane (?) and why she felt the need to announce his presence to you.
The distraction in question presented itself in the form of a very tall and fit guy, one with a fully tattooed sleeve and dreamy black curls. Other outstanding attributes were the very obvious muscles encompassing his entire body and the shine that came from the various piercings on his face. In short, the man was nothing short of a dream straight from a Pinterest board — and the charisma radiating from his mere presence did not help matters.
"He's a regular. No one really knows much about him other than he's rich. He tips like 200% above his total," continued June, still leaning in your direction to whisper.
You felt bad at how obvious you were whilst staring at the boy, but he was likely the prettiest one you'd seen in a while. The blank expression in your stare did not tell on you, but it did not deny the fact that you were staring.
"We take turns serving him," your coworker informed you, "Sometimes we fight over it. He's a natural flirt, but he does it with everyone, so we're not sure if he's taken or not," she proceeded to tell you benign details about him that had you nodding along as you continued to stare at him.
The usually fast-paced place seemed to slow down when he entered the coffee shop, with most baristas' attentions going to him rather than their jobs. If he was aware of it, he was good at ignoring it, instead giving a flashy smile to the lucky barista currently tending to him. From the short distance between you, you were unable to hear his conversation, but you still had a perfect view of him as he simply existed. He could easily see you, as there was nothing in his way, but he hadn't yet, somehow oblivious to the attention he was receiving from all other baristas in the house.
As time stood still for everyone else, it continued normally for him. He paid for his drink, having it quickly bypass all other prior orders and made immediately by one of the many girls fawning at him. God, even the two baristas working the drive-thru had taken a short break from it go gawk.
It wasn't until moments later that Jungkook seemed to get a taste of his own medicine, with his own time suddenly coming to a halt. As he turned around to leave, sweet drink now in hand, his eyes incidentally met yours, causing him to pause mid turn and do a double take in order to catch your eyes again.
It was ridiculous, really. Almost too identical to those moments you'd see in those dumb romcoms you used to enjoy as a teenager. Except this was actually happening. And it was happening to you. As all your new coworkers watched his every move with extreme attention.
His eyes widened a bit. It was something the naked eye might've missed, but not you (nor the other five girls watching). His head tilted a bit to the side — maybe in curiosity due to not having seen you there before (Joanne did mention he was a regular). A ghost of a smirk took over the natural smile that had been on his lips since arrival. And lastly, a nod was sent your way — a nod in acknowledgment to your presence, but also with a flirtatious hint to it. It was hard to describe. You simply had to be there.
You remained watching him with a poker face throughout. The same poker face you'd had since clocking in to work that morning. It wasn't that you were mean or not a people person, you simply hated work. You'd been told you had a bit of a resting bitch face and gave a mean impression to those who didn't know you, but that was beside the point. The pretty boy whose attention you'd caught had gotten lucky, though, as he at least received the ghost of a smile from you before he left.
The first thing to occur upon his departure was a squeal from your left. The perpetrator? Julie (or whatever her name was).
"Oh my god!," she let out, grabbing onto your shoulder so you'd face her, "Did you see that?"
"See what?", you asked, not 100% sure of what had just happened.
"He totally checked you out . He's never done that before. Maybe he likes you? God, don't let Lila find out, she's got a huge crush on him," she informed you, once again assuming you knew who the hell Lila was.
"Hah, I think he might've just been surprised to see a new face," you downplayed, "What were you explaining before he got here? The thing with the pumps and the-"
"He comes here every morning at 8 or so. How about you take his order tomorrow? Y'know, just to test my theory," she suggested, disregarding your question.
"Orders? It's my first day here. Isn't training like two weeks lon-"
"It's fine! I'll be shadowing you. You'll do great! Now let's get back to your training-"
"Jane! I need more change at drive thru!", called one of the drive thru girls, interrupting your conversation.
"Coming, Lila!", she responded, giving you a polite smile before handing you the shaker she had just been holding, "Just practice some drinks how I taught you. I'll be right back to show you how to work the register."
So her name was Jane. And that was Lila.
At least you learned something today.
...
you can check it out today on my patreon by subscribing!
reply if you'd like to be tagged!
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luveline · 2 days
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hey! i wanted to request r with a best friend!marauder, and she feels guilty for being a clingy/touchy bsf? eg. always holds hands and loops arms together and loves hugs. but said marauder comforts her? thank you jadey
The steps off of the bus feel especially steep on just four hours sleep. You’re not dizzy, but when James offers his hand from the ground, you accept it. Much less scary to know he could catch you if you slipped. 
“I’m surprised we weren’t holding hands already,” he says, giving yours a squeeze as you land, and pulling you to the side where the already departed rugby team and their family members wait for their luggage to be retrieved from the bus’ belly.
“Oh, I know,” you say. There’s an odd awkwardness to it that you’re trying to bury. 
James is used to you. Your hand in his is casual, perhaps a little too much for company, but it’s just hand-holding. You like feeling that he’s near, the slight chill of British summer more readily suffered with his palm against yours. He runs hot. 
He lets your joined hands swing gently with the wait, doesn’t bother letting it go until the luggage is all out. James grabs his duffel bag and your suitcase, and everyone makes their way to the hotel. It’s late —the team were expecting to be here much sooner but there had been a punctured tire, and then an accident on the M4. James will have to play the game tomorrow with less hours of sleep than intended, but he’ll play well. 
“You’re uncharacteristically quiet,” James says a little later, when you’ve shoved your suitcase under the double bed. He turns off the big light. 
“That is an uncharacteristically large word.” 
“Loser,” he says, pushing down the blankets to sit next to you. He rubs his mouth and nose, then he turns to you, all business. “You are quiet, though. What’s the matter? Still feel poorly?” 
“I feel fine.” 
“You look awful.” He winces at his own harshness. “You look upset, sorry. And you still have sleep in your eyes, let me–”
You sigh and tilt your head up for him to scratch the sleep from your eye. For a moment, it’s quiet, just your face in his hand, his fingernail against the delicate inside of your eye. “Do you ever think we’re too close?” 
“Not really. Sometimes when you kick me in your sleep, maybe.” He takes back his hands. 
“You don’t care that I’m, like, constantly on you? I don’t know, like earlier, when you helped me off of the bus. Most friends wouldn’t keep holding on to each other after, but we do.” 
“Most friends wouldn’t take a nine hour bus just to see me play an away game, so…” James gives you a little poke in the ribs. “But we aren’t friends, we’re best friends. So what if we want to hold hands? That’s our business.” 
You frown. “You really don’t care? Even when I’m harassing you for hugs and stuff?” Nausea sits in your chest, waiting for him to say, Yeah, actually, the hugging is a bit much. 
“Babe, I love you,” James says, his glasses slipping down his nose as he gives a shake of the head. His eyebrows are pinched in confusion, but his mouth is softening. “How long have you been thinking about this?” 
“I just don’t want to be a burden.” 
“You’re never a burden.” He opens his arms. 
You crawl into his embrace, reassured by his chin where it digs into your forehead, and his warm voice. 
“You don’t bother me. We bother each other, right? We fight like kids. I love it, I wouldn’t trade our friendship for anything.” He pauses. Hums. “‘Cept a Big Mac. I’m starving, I can’t believe we got stuck on the motorway like that.” 
“You’d trade me for a Big Mac?” 
“In a moment of weakness.” 
His smile curves against your head. His arms settle on your back. It’s the same as every other hug you’ve shared, warm and easy. “I wouldn’t,” he murmurs, “I don’t know why you’re worried about being too much, but don’t bother. You’re touchy, I’m touchy, we’re affectionate people.” 
“I spent too long on that stupid bus,” you say, dropping your flushed face into his shoulder. 
“You definitely did. Why would I care about you hugging me too much?” His hand moves gently up and down. “You give the best hugs around.” 
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mysteryshoptls · 2 days
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SSR Ace Trappola - Room Relaxation Voice Lines
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When Summoned: Yaaaawn, sooo sleepy... But it's a waste to keep sleeping! I think I'll roll around in bed some more.
Summon Line: Since it's my birthday, that means I can pretty much get away with askin' for whatever I want, right? Wonder what I should get my roommates to do for me...
Groooovy!!: No way, I overslept!? No way I can hit up the school with bedhead on my birthday of all days!
Home: Whew, now I'm feelin' fresh~
Swap Looks: Guess I'ma go wash m'face...
Home Idle 1: I couldn't find the shirt I was gonna wear tomorrow, but it ended up being mixed in with my roommate's stuff. Annoyin' how that happens sometimes.
Home Idle 2: Ruggie-senpai forced some vegetable seeds into my hands. He said I better share some with him when I harvest 'em... Would this even grow that much?
Home Idle 3: You wanna know about this hoodie? I bought it at a clothing shop in Foothill Town. It's pretty comfy, and also perfect to wear as loungewear, don'tcha think?
Home Idle - Login: Don't birthday mornings just feel special? I'm so jazzed I even get really into doin' up my hair!
Home Idle - Groovy: Kalim-senpai threw me a huge party as a celebration even though I'm not in Scarabia... Maaan, he's always so insanely nice!
Home Tap 1: Sometimes I'll play darts or card games with my roommates. 'Though, there's one loud-mouthed, thick-headed idiot that's always gettin' in the way!
Home Tap 2:I can't even imagine what kind of present Malleus-senpai could pick for me~ I guess I got nothing to lose by asking him... Nah, never mind.
Home Tap 3: I got softer hair, so I get bedhead super easily. Man, I've been late so many times 'cause of it!
Home Tap 4: I was messin' with Sebek, pushing his buttons and sayin' he probably sucks at gift-giving, when he shouted, "I'll show you what I can really do!" Ahaha, oh, I totally can't wait to see what he comes up with~
Home Tap 5: Eh, my hair's sticking out in the back!? Ugh, seriously? I thought I fixed it up. Guess I'll hafta fix it up in a flash during break.
Home Tap - Groovy: You like my taste in loungewear? I knew you'd get me. And see, I even picked these sandals in the same color to give it an overall coordinated look!
Duo: [ACE]: Can't wait to see how you'll celebrate with me, Kalim-senpai! [KALIM]: Let's dance, sing, and party hard, Ace!
Birthday Login Message: Oh hey, did you come to celebrate my birthday? Nice timing, we just finished morning basketball practice! My clubmates all wished me a happy birthday, too. Jamil-senpai said it as soon as he saw me, and by some miracle, Floyd-senpai gave me a very normal birthday greeting. I'm sure glad he was in a good mood~ Oh, hey. We should hit the Mystery Shop between classes. ...Hm? Why're you tensin' up? Huuuh? C'mon, I didn't say nothing about treating me, now diiid I? Hehe, see you later~
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Requested by @thelonepearl.
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bbluefllame · 1 day
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hcs on how I think mha characters sleep
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contains: pure silly stupidness
characters: tomura shigaraki, touya todoroki, keigo takami, izuku midoriya, toga himiko, plus one katsuki hc😭
note: LISTEN GANG I WAS SLEEPY BUT I COULDNT SKEEP SO I WAS LIKE OH EM GEE!!! keigo's went out of hand 😔😔😔
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tomura shigaraki
- he usually sleeps in his normal attire, he has no energy to get up and change
- sleeps 4 hrs MAX
- his thumbs are always I mean always are covered by the rest of his fingers tightly, he probably decays mattresses every couple of months by accident
- either super light sleeper or super heavy no in-between, probably doesn't even sleep most of the time
- there's no pre-sleep routine. mf just plops down into the bed and blacks out OR he sleeps in his gaming chair😭
- if you're sleeping next to him, he would make sure he's facing the opposite side with his hands dangling at the edge of the bed just to make sure nothing happens to you.
- one thing that makes him black out is playing with his hair, like blackout like snore mimimimi type shit
- he's so still in his sleep, barely moves to the point you might think he's dead if he wasn't breathing‼️
- Overall he'd be a pretty good person to sleep next to (if he even sleeps) just make sure he doesn't have nightmares or everything is done and dusted (literally)
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touya todoroki
- he either sleeps naked or something that can't snag on the staples/ irritate his scars (probably naked bcs have you seen his room?? ITS EMPTY EMPTY THERES NOTHING BESIDES HIS USUAL CLOTHES)
- I give him 5-6 hrs maybe then he wakes up but on nights where he's in too much pain, he takes a shit ton of painkillers and tries to sleep just to wake up 2 hrs later
-biggest snorer out there, complete opposite of tomura. esp w those lungs of his omg.
- you could be sleeping and BOOM 🚉 SNOREEEEEE HONKKKK you need earplugs with him, then he wakes up and goes "I don't snore, fuck you mean??"
- he tosses and turns 24/7 also he will 100% steal the blanket and kick you off, at this point it'd be more comfortable to sleep on the ground than to sleep next to him
- yk those videos where it's like someone tweaking while sleeping, like they roll around steal blankets and kick and stuff and do the craziest shit, yeah that's touya
- idk if he has a pre sleep routine I'm leaning towards it depends? he usually just makes sure his scars are clean so he doesn't get an infection and yk die!
- I conclude, a horrible person to sleep next to. Would much rather kms than tolerate a night of his torture!
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keigo takami
- this bitch has 2 options, blackout the second he gets home in his hero attire, or if it's a day where he has to recover from an injury or something, these navy blue sweatpants and a black t-shirt specifically
- depends on the day he's sleeping either 3 hrs or 9 hrs
- he doesn't snore but he talks in his sleep about the weirdest shit ever "noooo pls don't put me in the airfryer" he 100% has the weirdest fucking dreams to ever exist
- he never sleeps on his back, literally always on his stomach so his wings don't get in the way
- also on the topic of his wings, during said weird dreams if he's running away or something they start flapping and shit😭 it'd be so annoying to sleep next to him
- he sleepwalks 100% you look at that face and tell me he DOESNT?? he's a really light sleeper as well esp for nights where he might be called in
- definitely has a pre sleep routine (if he doesn't immediately blackout) ESP if you're living tg oh em gee, he'd have a longer skincare routine than you (tbf the skincare routine is kind of obligation from him to appeal to the civilians nd shit)
- he'd have a headband on his head pushing his hair back, washing his face, using a toner etcetera, and then going "baaaaaabeeee where'd you put my cosrx snail mucin, I know you used it" and he'd be all sassy and shit (twink cough cough sorry)
- if he's having a calm day, he's being the clingiest cutest little shit, you wanna go to eat? "nooo 5 minutes" . You wanna go to the bathroom? "Ugh be quick" while he's guarding the door waiting to tackle you and drag you back to bed. He's such a little (loving) shit
- he just lays there on top of you not willing to let go with a serene expression on his face, those days are rare though (fuck the commission 😠)
- random but he has some of the worst bed head you could ever see
- overall, kind of annoying to sleep next to (funny as well) but for him, who wouldn't tolerate it 🙏🏼
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izuku midoriya
- before OFA bro used to get no sleep he'd have the most fucked up sleep schedule to ever exist ‼️‼️ like during weekends no sleep at all just staying up analyzing new heroes
- w OFA he's sleeping healthily or too much with the amount of energy he uses ESP in the first seasons when he breaks his bones a shit ton
- HIS SLEEP WEAR LMAOAOA funniest thing I've seen i don't have to say anything abt it 😭 a fucking shirt w " t-shirt" on it or sumn
- doesn't snore but moves a lot, and not even kicking?? just flipping side to side or clutching the blanket like he's a woman clutching her purse in the 1800s (no one's taking it from you calm down lil bro)
- occasionally he might talk but it's like 2 words then he flips to the other side
- no pre-sleep routine but that's bc he doesn't need one, his pre-sleep routine is studying or training, BUT bro has to be like wrapping his arms and hands at night or something bcs he's in pain (his arms are fucked up there's no way he doesn't have chronic pain)
- if you're forced to sleep next to each other (insert ur own fanfic idea of why) he would be so tense he'd have his hands by his side tryna not sleep so he doesn't annoy you, at this point, you'd be annoyed by how tense he is
- he's not a bad person to sleep next to tbf, just like he might be kinda annoying that's it
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Toga Himiko
- she has pink pj's and everything she's such a cutie (some have blood on them but whoops accident!)
- she sleeps with plushies (her room is adorable. search it up pleek‼️), changes the plushie every night so "every single one of them feels loved"
- she sleeps pretty healthily although on the low side 6-7 hrs prolly, she's told by compress "You're a growing girl, you need your sleep" or something similar when she wakes up too early
- she's more giggles in her sleep rather than anything, maybe whispers a name then goes teehehehe, she's pretty calm in her sleep honestly
- she has a pre-sleep routine and it's adorable, if it's in the broke era she steals face masks (specifically hello kitty ones), moisturizers, toners, face washes and skips back to the base with a smile on her face
- has 100% forced a couple of the league members to use the face masks
- has music blasting (for some reason I see her playing like a g6 and bopping her head while putting stuff on) at 10 pm, she 100% has been forced to turn it off bcs it woke everyone up
- she's such a cuddly person as well but in the best way possible, before sleeping though 100% there's gonna be gossiping or just yapping tg
overall my favorite !! silliest girl to ever exist I luv her
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bonus katsuki
- bro sleeps like a Victorian child dying from the plague, waiting for a true loves kiss type shit you'd see him and go "wtf okay disney princess😟"
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freshl6ve · 2 days
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𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒. 𝐒 | 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐈 𝐏𝐈𝐙𝐙𝐀
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SFW!! | 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑─𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊
₊⊹⁀➴ : Y/N walks downstairs to see Chris in the kitchen filming his part for the upcoming video. Y/N notices how he was eating his favorite mini pizzas that he loved so much. She decides to join him and keep him company.
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𝐀 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐋𝟔𝐕𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄-𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋
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˚⊱🪄⊰˚ : 𝐈 𝐥𝐚𝐳𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐬, still rubbing the sleep from my eyes. As I entered the kitchen, the sight of Chris filming his part for the upcoming video caught my attention. I couldn't help but notice that he was indulging in his favorite tiny pizzas, the ones he always seemed to enjoy so much.
“Hey,” I said as I approached Chris, my voice still a bit groggy, “Mind if I join you?”
Chris looked up with a grin, his mouth full of pizza. He nodded, signalling me to grab a seat beside him. I took a moment to observe him as I settled down next to him. His focus was still on filming, but there was a sense of relaxation on his face as he enjoyed his miniature pizzas.
“I see you're enjoying your mini pizzas,” I teased, picking up a tiny pizza myself.
“Yup!” he replied, his voice slightly muffled between bites. “Can't pass up on these when they're in front of me.”
We sat in comfortable silence for a moment, both of us munching on the tiny pizzas. I glanced over at his phone. Curious, I asked, “How's the filming going?”
“Pretty good,” Chris answered, his expression turning a bit wistful. “I'm just really missing Matt and Nick right now, you know? It's not the same recording stuff without them.”
I nodded understandingly. “I get it,” I replied, “But hey, you know sooner or later, you guys will be back together. Just a few more days.”
With a smile, I reached up and gently ran my fingers through his messy hair. “You know I'm here with you through this, right? You're not alone,” I reassured him. “I may not be Matt or Nick, but hopefully, I can still keep you company a little bit.”
Chris's tense expression softened as he looked up at me. “I know,” he said quietly, “And I'm glad you're here with me.” With a small, grateful smile, he leaned back a bit, letting my hand continue its soothing motion through his hair.
I smiled warmly, my hand lightly massaging his head. “I'm glad I'm here with you, too. It's nice to spend some time together, just the two of us,” I said softly.
Chris closed his eyes, leaning into my touch and sighing contentedly. “Yeah,” he murmured, “It is nice.”
We sat in companionable silence for a moment, the only sounds the occasional crunch of a pizza and the soft shuffling of my fingers through his hair.
Chris opened his eyes and looked at me, a soft, grateful smile on his face. “Thank you, baby,” he said, his voice gentle and sincere. “Really. I appreciate you being here for me.”
My hand paused in his hair as I met his gaze warmly. “Of course,” I replied, my voice filled with tenderness. “I wouldn't want to be anywhere else in the world right now except here with you.”
As my hand trailed down his face, I let it settle back into my lap, my gaze meeting his once more. With surprising gentleness, Chris's own hand found its way to my face, his fingers lightly tracing my features.
He pulled me in for a kiss, his lips meeting mine in a tender moment filled with silent affection.
The kiss was gentle, his mouth moving against mine a slow, tender dance. I melted into the moment, my own fingers intertwining with his and holding his hand against my face.
Pulling away slightly, Chris rested his forehead against mine, his eyes still locked on mine.
We broke apart, my breath slightly ragged, and I managed a small laugh. “You taste like a mini pizza,” I teased, my voice a little breathless.
Chris chuckled, a coy grin appearing on his face. “Is that a bad thing?” he asked, his hand still tracing lazy circles on my cheek.
“Not at all,” I answered, leaning in for a quick peck on his lips. Pulling away, I stood up, making my way over to the counter and grabbing a napkin.
I couldn't help bursting into quiet giggles as I heard Chris speak. Turning around, I found him talking into his camera with a lighthearted grin on his face.
“Feeling bad, mini pizza; feeling happy, mini pizza... can't sleep, mini pizza; slept fine, mini pizza... going over to a friend's, mini pizza; friends come over here, mini pizza...” he repeated, his voice affectionate. “And most importantly,” he continued, “When I'm hungry, mini pizza.”
I chuckle as I heard Chris’s little mini pizza monologue to the camera. I walked towards him, the napkin in hand and a smile on my face.
“You really do love your mini pizzas, huh?” I teased, handing him the napkin.
Chris chuckled sheepishly, taking the napkin from me. “What can I say?” he replied with a shrug. “They're just so damn good.”
He used the napkin to wipe away some of the pizza crumbs from his face and hands. “I eat, breathe, and live this shit”
Chris took another bite, talking through a mouth full of pizza. “I know if Matt was here, he'd be like,” he began in an exaggerated mimicking of Matt's voice, “‘You chew so loud,’”
He then switched to a mock version of Nick's voice. “And then Nick would be like, ‘Let me have a bite!’” He threw his head back and let out a laugh, clearly amused by his own impressions.
I chuckled and shook my head, walking behind him and gently ruffling his hair. “Finish up your food,” I said, “And meet me upstairs in your room when you're done.”
“I will,” he replied, looking up at me with a small smile. Before I could step away, he grabbed my hip, pulling me closer. I stumbled a bit, letting out a laugh as he brought me down to his level for a quick peck on the lips.
I broke away reluctantly, shooting him a smirk before straightening up. “Don't take too long,” I teased, walking towards the stairway.
Chris chuckled lightly, watching as I ascended the stairs. “I won't,” he promised, his tone teasing.
He turned back to his food with a grin, eagerly resuming his mini pizza eating.
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katebishopsbaefy · 1 day
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Shoot Me
billie eilish x reader
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𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚
summary: you and billie both get your periods at the same time and are the definition of miserable
word count: 1219
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You roll over with a groan, pressing your face back into your girlfriend’s side, clutching your stomach. You feel her arms wrap around you. She obviously wanted to feel you as much as you wanted to feel her.
You and Billie had been unfortunate enough to get your periods at the same time, so now here you lay, sprawled on your bed, clutching your stomachs, groaning occasionally. Somehow you’d managed to not only lose track of your heating pads, but you’d also completely run out of pain relief medication, and neither of you felt well enough to drive to the store to get some.
Billie gently kisses your forehead when you press into her. She grunts as she reaches one arm over to the nightstand to check her phone, muttering out a low “shit” upon seeing the many texts and missed calls from her brother, who she was supposed to meet up with today.
You rub your eye and look up at her. “What’s wrong?” you mumble.
She swings her arm back over to hug you tighter, deciding to deal with Finneas later. “Nothing,” she whispers, starting to rub your back. You hum at the touch. “How’re you feeling?”
You grumble out something about feeling like shit, but it comes out muffled due to your face pressing further into her. Your hand finds its way underneath her loose t-shirt in search of more comfort.
This time, she hums at your touch. The weight of you laying on top of her serves as a weighted blanket, and although it’s comfortable, it doesn’t do much for her cramps. “This sucks,” she states. You hum in agreement.
Your short conversation is interrupted by multiple aggressive dings from her phone. She groans again and reaches back over, checking the new texts from her brother.
“Who’s that?” you ask.
She lets out a huff. “Finneas,” she mumbles, “I forgot I was s’pposed to meet up with him today.”
You whine and grip her tighter in response. “Mmm, don’t leave me.”
“I don’t think I could go anywhere even if I wanted to,” she says, giggling quietly at you.
She hadn’t realized that she forgot to respond to him yet again, getting distracted by you, until the sudden alarm of her ringtone and buzzing of her phone forces her to finally respond. You both jump at the sound before she answers. You can hear a faint “hello???” from the other end.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to ignore you,” Billie says, exhaustion lacing her voice. “I’ve been asleep all day, me and y/n have the worst cramps ever.” She shifts a little and waits for Finneas to respond. “Actually yeah, that would be super helpful if you have time.” Another pause. “Can I send you a list?” Short pause. “Okay, great, see you later.”
The loss of her warmth makes you groan as she flips you off of her to sit up. “What’d he say?” you ask.
“He said he has some time, so he’s gonna pick some stuff up for us,” she responds. Taking your shared blanket with her, she gets out of bed. You groan for probably the 500th time, but she ignores you and grabs your arm, effectively dragging you out of bed too. “Come on, we’re gonna go sit on the couch.”
“Just shoot me instead,” you mumble. You clutch your pillow to your stomach and trudge your way down the hall with her to the living room. 
She laughs at your remark. “At least we get more time to hang out,” she says, gently bumping her hip with yours. You smile at her and bump her back.
It feels like an hour has passed by the time you make it to the couch. You flop down, immediately leaning into Billie’s side, and you feel her do the same. She sits up for a moment to wrap you in the blanket again before snuggling back into you. “Wanna watch something?” she asks, to which you shrug, and she flicks on a random channel.
You completely lose track of time sitting with her. You have no idea what show’s playing, being too distracted by her hands, which you had taken into your lap. Fingers laced together, palms pressed, her warm hands warming up your cold ones. You’re so spaced out playing with her fingers that you don’t realize you’re starting to fall asleep until she giggles at you.
“Sleepy?” she asks. You look up at her, noticing her eyes starting to droop as well.
“No,” you whisper, reaching a hand up point at her jokingly, “are you?” She shakes her head.
At some point, you had both begun to shift around, so uncomfortable from your cramps. When Finneas arrives at your place, he finds you passed out, sprawled on one side of the couch, gripping your pillow. Billie hogs the blanket on the other side, and your heads meet in the corner. He smiles and snaps a quick picture to send to you later. 
He quietly makes his way over to your kitchen, careful not to make too much noise with his bags. Ice cream, chocolate, and other comfort foods are unloaded into the fridge. Despite how quiet he tries to be, the soft rustling is enough to wake Billie, who quickly sits up and pads over to him, dragging her blanket behind her. “Hey, you don’t have to do that,” she says quietly.
He shakes his head. “It’s fine. Go sit back down.”
“But I feel bad,” she mutters. She plops down onto a seat at the kitchen island, resting her head on her arms.
Finneas slides her a container of pain medication over the table, which she gratefully accepts, downing a couple of pills. “If you wanna do something…” he says, rifling through the bags, “go pop these in the microwave for a minute.” He pulls out two stuffed animals, unzipping them from the back to take out the pad to be heated up. Billie audibly sighs at the sight.
“Oh my God, you’re literally a life saver,” she breathes. After heating them up, she makes her way back over to the couch, where you’re still sound asleep.
“Y/n,” she whispers, gently rubbing your shoulder to wake you up. Your eyes flutter open and you smile at her. “Hi, my love. I’ll trade you,” she says, referring to the pillow you’re still clutching. You gratefully switch with her, pulling the stuffed toy to your stomach and letting out a breath at the relief it provided. “Better?” she asks, kissing your forehead softly as your eyes close again.
You hum. “Thank you,” you say to her, and, louder this time, “thanks, Finneas.”
He and Billie talk for a little longer, deciding to make up the work they were supposed to do another day, and she thanks him excessively, to which he shrugs every time. Then he leaves, leaving the two of you alone again.
As she sits back down, she pulls your head into her lap. Her hand in your hair, yours on her back underneath her shirt. A few short minutes later, your fingers stop tracing patterns into her skin, and she knows you’d fallen back to sleep. She scoots around, getting more comfortable before falling asleep too.
No matter how shitty you felt, she always made you feel better.
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on tumblr lot more people know about it which great! that improve life of all AAC users. but pretty much with anything disability/developmental disability space on social media (which need certain amount of cognitive/intellectual & language abilities be on even if have support), good majority you see be teen & adult people who already literate learn language via speech n write *first* n then *independently* learn AAC base on it *later*.
especially symbol based AAC, but all AAC, is new system n hard n take long time learn even when you literate & not moderately severely cognitively disabled. but also, “literate teen/adult independent learn AAC” not at all full face of AAC user community.
as in like. experience of theirs. not universal. independently motivated & able to look up different AAC options different AAC apps, compare n contrast. download app n immediately know how to use, or able figure out by self. first time use app n may be clunky n slow, but make sentence on first try. need learn AAC, but most of that learning is for where words are (if button based), how exist as AAC user in public with confidence, etc. those all valid but not true for everyone who need AAC, especially not developmentally disabled children (& some adults) with complex communication needs.
most developmentally disabled children (n some adults) w complex communication needs who need AAC, can’t just hand them tablet with symbol based AAC app or text to speech AAC app n then wait for magic. many of them developmentally delayed in way, not taught in way that fit them (e.g. gestalt language processors), n their language abilities behind peers, so they can’t read, can’t spell, can’t grammar, etc.
some of them need learn where word is not by read word, sometimes not even by understand symbol, instead is by other people press button n hear sound n associate that with meaning n location on AAC n symbol associate with it. in other words, they learning language alongside AAC.
for some their learn process look like, learn how use AAC say one word. n then much later, try make two word message, “want food” “go school.” “two word message” incredibly common goal for many these developmentally disabled children, teens, n even adults, that is something rare n truly extraordinary for that person that need be celebrated.
for others it look like learn by phrase (gestalt), then slowly break it down into smaller phrase n chunks n finally single words.
many of them babble (click random/seemingly random buttons on high tech device, stim with it, etc). but ultimately, won’t be able learn all by self. need be taught, see you accidentally spill water n crying, maybe you “feel” “sad”, n when that happen you “need” “help” from adult. need learn AAC by adults around them constantly model with it, constantly use it in conversation, show them how use. because they learning language along side it.
but also some of them don’t know what this thing in front of them (AAC… device, low tech boards or picture cards, etc) is. don’t know what communication is or you should do that. don’t know people exist who you should communicate to & with. heard many parents n SLP say they try model all time, try all kind of stuff, but child just not seem interested in it, don’t look at it, don’t touch it, don’t use it.
people who use AAC, not all them struggle with only speech. some them struggle with language, with intellectual/cognitive. some of them very developmentally delayed.
n some people, too disabled learn or use AAC. yeah, they exist.
for people who cannot use / cannot only use speech to be understood, AAC can be life changing. but is so much more complex thing. AAC still not as widely used n accepted n properly taught n supported as should, some parents n professionals n schools still many pushback n refuse. but sometimes answer to “have you tried AAC for them” is “yes, but they need long time n lots help to learn n we not very far yet even though spent long time on it” or “yes, but they simply not show interest even after constant model” or “god, wish can, but insurance only cover if show some amount of communication competence n ability use AAC, while only give 1 month trial, which simply not enough time” (wide spread thing that happen) or “yes. many types. it not work.”
for many AAC users & AAC user-to-be, it not as simple as “be handed AAC n check back in while they figure out by self”
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gremlinmodetweeker · 2 days
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König's Kids Headcanons
I think König, when he's there, would be a great dad. He's a bit of a gremlin, but this just makes him a better dad. He's also a bit of a menace at parent teacher meetings.
Anyways, have some silly headcanons
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König is a surprisingly good father (when he’s there). He’s strict, but also knows how to relax and let things slide. He will play-wrestle with his kids and make sure they have plenty of time to run around in nature and read books. He’s passionate about his kids’ hobbies and encourages them to learn and explore what they love.
He’s the type of dad to teach them how to fight but also play pretend games with them
He does not like having tea parties, but he will endure for his children. He will endure great hardship and pain for them, and if this includes sipping water from a plastic teacup while sitting on a tiny stool, so be it. He can endure. However, he draws the line at makeup. He can’t endure (nor can he sit still long enough)
When König is home from work, he drops his military titles at the door and focuses entirely on being an important part of their lives. The sad part is that you can see he’s actively trying to make up for time he’s lost. This is part of what leads to him retiring early to a local security job.
Without a steady father figure in their lives, his kids do grow up to struggle with certain things. However, all things considered, they turn out pretty well adjusted and healthy. Honestly, pretty solid people. They turn out to be the kind of people you feel like you can respect and appreciate.
But when they’re young his kids are little shits. They’re the type to break stuff for fun. They also will run and hide from you. At a certain point, you’ll have to resort to using child leashes because they will run away from you in public. So when they’re young, they’re terrors in your house. When they get older, they have their father’s streak of intelligence and are snarky assholes. They have brutal teenage years.
This is exacerbated by the fact that for the first ten years of his youngest kid’s life, he’s still in a PMC and going on military contracts, so the kids have large periods of time where they’re missing their father.
König realizes too late that he missed a lot of his kids’ development and chooses to retire to a more local security job to spend more time at home. It’s a big change in the household, but not an unwelcome one. His older kids struggle the most, but they do grow to form strong bonds with him because of his choice to stay home
König makes a good deal of money early on so he can go on to take a lower paying job later in life. His kids never have to worry about if they have money. They have to worry about whether or not their parents will say yes.
König is a pretty strict father. He’s a military man, a former colonel. He’s not going to be a horrible abusive father, but he will be a bit much sometimes. You might find yourself stepping in to defuse the tension sometimes.
Thankfully, König doesn’t yell at his kids (unless it’s something stupid and it’s pretty obviously a joke) or hit them. He’s actually pretty bad about disciplining his kids. You might have to take over in that department. Having been in the military for so long, König’s terrified of going overkill on his kids and doesn’t want to risk hurting them. He can dish it out, yes, but he’s extremely cautious when doing so.
He’s also quite fair. He does his best to treat his children equally. He’s surprisingly good. He focuses on encouraging their individual hobbies and finding their own personalities. They do grow up to be quite self-confident with their father’s teachings in their heads. They’re not arrogant, but they’re confident and assertive
They’re not popular in school, but not hated. They do pretty decently. Academics are a bit too easy for them, so König has to step in to teach them study habits and keep their passion for learning. Thankfully, his father was a professor, so he’s pretty good at this.
That said, König will sometimes be pretty silly when disciplining. Sometimes, you can hear his full colonel voice booming from outside about someone pulling some silly prank on him as he’s mowing the lawn. He’s not the type to pull pranks on his kids (but he’ll happily torment you) but he will play silly games with them. I think his kids learn that when he’s yelling, he’s not actually that angry, he’s just playing around. It still scares the shit out of your kids’ friends when he does it when they’re over
König has a tendency to scare children in public. He tries really hard to not make them nervous, but with the hood and the height and the tired look in his eyes? Nah he’s terrifying.
König’s kids grow up not being afraid of anyone because nobody’s as scary as their dad. This also means all the kids know that those kids have the scariest dad.
When your kids’ friends come over, they’re terrified of König. Unfortunately, he finds this slightly funny and takes advantage of this. You might have to step in and diffuse the tension to help those poor children realize that when König is yelling about things, he’s not actually mad. Maybe make cookies with him or something, it’ll help break the ice.
Your kids and their friends are all taken under König’s wings for protection. He’ll go up to bat for any of those kids. He genuinely cares so much about them. Having very select few friendships as a child himself, he’ll go out of his way to ensure his children have healthy social lives.
Sometimes the parents are unsettled by him. This is König’s unsettling form of social anxiety at play, so you’ll have to mediate between other parents and König to make sure they realize that no, he’s not an abusive monster, he just makes horrible jokes about his children. He has very dark humor but plays it straight, which is a horrible combination.
He has had a teacher call CPS on him before, but it was quickly resolved. However, most people are frightened by König when he steps into a room and it’s no different at parent-teacher interviews
He always blows teachers out of the water for how much he cares about his kids getting a quality education. He’s also quite receptive to their advice (if it’s good) and is willing to step in when needed. Teachers also typically find that he’s quite a fun parent volunteer to have on field trips (he is extremely popular)
Some of the more timid kids grow to like König because he tries to ensure all children are included when he’s around. He’s good at making sure everyone feels noticed.
Of course, as said, in the beginning everyone is terrified of the giant foreign soldier man. His kids have to teach their friends to not be afraid of their dad when he’s home.
Later on, this means in late high school his kids' friends consider him a DILF. He’s horrified. Flattered, but horrified. He has a serious talk with you about how to not be a DILF. He genuinely is so upset by the concept. His kids laugh at him all the time because he’s miserable about it.
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Konig Dump
Konig Headcanons
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Trinkets
Five presents Jason brought you back from his adventures and one you asked for. (+ one) ~1.2k words of fluff
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Jason Todd brings you home gifts from his missions, which wouldn't be a problem, but he never really explains what they are.
The first time it happened, you had laughed at the green ring with a lantern symbol in the middle. It looked cheesy, like one of the fake ones you can buy from the superhero merch stores littered around malls and outlets.
You'd kissed his cheek in thanks, put it on your shelf, and never gave it a second thought.
At least you didn't, until a bright green glow woke you up from your sleep. You'd sat up immediately, jaw practically dropping to the sheets as the ring lifted itself off your shelf and flew out the window.
Jason barely budged, his arm still thrown over your waist. He let out yawn and cuddled closer before speaking, voice groggy and heavy, "Huh. Didn't think they noticed that one was gone."
"They," You half yell, voice pitching as you stare at his outline, hidden in the shadows of the room.
"The Guardians, babe," he yawns out, "They're in charge of the space cops. Just go back to sleep."
Naturally, you do not go back to sleep. You drag him to the kitchen, make tea, and demand he explains why a Green Lantern ring was in your apartment. (He's very happy to)
The second time it happens, you're much more wary of the gift he brings home. But to be fair, he can't really pass off an Amazonian steel sword as something he just picked up.
It doesn't take as much convincing as it should for you to let him mount it on your wall. But it's a sword! No one can blame you for thinking it looks cool in your living room.
It turns out keeping it around is pretty useful, because a few weeks later, your boyfriend crawls through your window, dressed head to toe in armor.
"Hey, doll," he drawls, "Can I borrow your sword?"
"Sure," You chirp back, more preoccupied with your book as he saunters over to the sword, "what for?"
"Artie's got confiscated, and we haven't gotten to steal it back yet," he supplies, stopping long enough to pull his helmet up and kiss your head.
"Oh, that sucks," You answer, offhandedly, "Give her and Bizzaro my love."
"You got it, babe," he chirps already halfway out your window.
He does bring your sword back, covered in green blood, but no worse for wear. It still looks great on your wall.
He brings you a box next. It's kind of ugly looking, but you thank him nonetheless.
"Be careful with it," he tells you as you flip it over in your hands, "It opens boom tubes."
You almost drop it, and if you hadn't already experienced the power ring, you would have shrieked at him. Instead, you manage to put it down very carefully and calmly ask, "It does what?"
"Open boom tubes," he answers, which clears absolutely nothing up, "I figured we could use it to country hop for our next date night. You know, dinner in Paris, drinks in Dubai, dessert in LA."
"Okay," You answer slowly, as if that makes complete sense.
It turns out, it does. Date night is lovely, and making out with your boyfriend on a random beach in Spain is very, very nice.
Batman waiting in your apartment to take back the boom box isn't so nice, though.
Jason tells you it was worth it. He's absolutely right.
The third thing Jason brings you is a plant. Flowers aren't a rare show of affection from him, but ones that move are.
"Uh, thank you, Jason," You start, prodding at the moving petals, they nuzzle your fingers the same way a kitten would, "But I don't know how to take care of these."
"Same way you take care of any other plant, water, fertilizer, nutrients, all that fun stuff," he says fondly, stroking a few of the petals.
"What if it gets sick," You ask, uncertain.
"We'll call Ivy," he says, unbothered.
"Right. Ivy. Poison Ivy. Who you know," You mumble, but the little plant is already worming its way into your heart. (You affectionately name it Daisy, for no other reason then it sways happily when you say that name)
The fourth thing Jason brings you makes you laugh because you know exactly what it is, "Jason, we can't keep this."
"Why not," he pleads, shaking the bright green quiver filled with arrows at you.
You giggled harder, smiling wide as you shake your head at him, "We don't even know what those do. Don't some of those explode?"
"So what," he huffs, practically pouting, "We can ask Roy. And it's not like I don't know my way around explosives."
"I guess so," You relent, trying to stifle your laughs as you inspect the bright green arrows, "How did you even get this?"
His eyes light up mischievously, "Do you really want to know?"
You stop short and narrow your eyes at him, "I would lose my plausible deniability."
"But you wanna know," he says, sly and playful.
You do. (It involves mutated chickens, tar, and one distracted Oliver Queen. You hang the quiver next to the sword)
Jason's getting ready to leave, bags packed and helmet lazy held under his arm, "Can I bring you back anything specific, doll" he asks, his free hand resting comfortably against your cheek, "Lasso of Truth? Maybe something with magic?"
You grin at him, leaning into his touch, "I actually do have something in mind."
"Oh," he prompts, eyes glinting with excitement.
"I want to complete my batarang collection."
He falters, "Your– what?"
"No one has," You exclaim, pulling away to showcase your collection, "I have Nightwings, Batgirls, Batmans, yours, of course, one of Robin's. But I'm missing Spoilers, Batwomans, Signals, and Red Robins."
He blinks at you, "That's– if that's what you want."
You giggle at how dumbfounded he looks, practically bouncing back over to him to kiss him, "Thank you, Jason."
He catches your waist and pulls you back in for another, longer kiss that leaves you both breathless and panting. His voice lowers, like it's a secret, "I'll bring you back some batarangs. See you in a few days?"
"See you in a few days," You echo, and he winks at you as he tugs on his helmet, leaving out your window.
Sure enough, you get your batarangs when he gets home. It takes some convincing, a few kisses that leave you senseless, but you get Jason to help you mount your batarang collection alongside the sword and quiver.
"I should get you a plasma rifle next," he drawls, admiring your growing wall of weapons.
"I think I'd fall over if I tried to shoot one of those," You point out, all smiles.
"I'll teach you," he tells you, hooking an arm around your waist to draw you closer.
Jason's a man of his word, and sure enough, he brings you home a plasma cannon after his next mission.
You only destroy most of the shooting range in the batcave when he lets you try it out.
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neonhellscape · 2 days
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okay its no secret i dont buy into marazhai being the persona he puts on. so as i've officially met him in game now, im making a list of all the in-game reasons i think he's a bit of an idiot [which i love btw. i find him far more compelling if he's a bit stupid/weird and he's trying so hard not to be but you just know nobody in commorragh is inviting him to parties]
the very first time you get a glance of him on a rooftop and. 'deal with this' "of course" proceeds to just walk off like 3 seconds after the other two
ambushes you. has you cornered. is in optimal position to kick your ass frankly, high ground and better weapons and utilising shock against you. ...he bitches at you for a while, gets insulted, then runs off into the forest with a maniacal cackle
heinrix fired a mild insult [considering what he's like to everyone else its barely an insult] and he took big enough issue with it to start saying how he'll break him and turn him into a pet. oh sure dude you're responding super well to this mild comment from the guy who accidentally insults everyone and their entire ancestral line at some point
i think it says something that he's learned to speak your language fluently too. that Has to be some kind of Yikes moment to admit publicly in drukhari culture. buried family secret great great grandfather drukhari-georg learned to speak mon keigh and now we claim he just spoke oddly because was shot in the head as a child to prevent the shame
he also knows the mon keigh lore that says youre a super special little guy as rogue trader and actually LISTENS to the fact you're the special little guy as rogue trader. and he does treat you as more equal/with more respect than the other characters. thats not just a drukhari culture yikes thats what gets you checked for a concussion or brain damage
literally socially atrocious enough its believed he's working with you [read: with you. not using you, not manipulating, cooperating. this is a big difference i feel] and only he himself doesnt believe it
ignore the fact he eventually DOES work with you which. is its own follow up statement
challenges you to fight him, to give chase then and there. i made him wait while i went through english government simulator where i queued for multiple days, did multiple day/week voidship trips back and forth, got distracted by accidentally starting jae's romance, pasqal telling me to servitorise her, getting blackout drunk with her, shipwide broadcast tm, giving her a voidship, her getting me a space cat, attacked by pirates, dealt with a plague, explored a few extra systems.......................
he destroys your palace. ...its rebuilt effectively within a week. most of the damage is in bodies which are just sent to the poor district to rot [almost feels worse than the damage done good job imperium]
the throne has claw marks. he could've blown it up or shot it or piled corpses on it but no he wanted to sit on the fancy chair and so turned into a common housecat mauling the sofa arm
how long was he just sitting there lounging on that chair? again see how long i kept him waiting. he was just sitting there trying to find a comfy position on this [for him] kinda small chair JUST so he could briefly taunt, break your window with his space motorbike, jump off the chair in a dramatic [but not gunna lie not that impressive] feat of gymnastics, then fly out. he doesnt even shoot at you as he leaves
i will continue my list as i see more that entertain me
#warhammer rogue trader#rogue trader marazhai#marazhai rogue trader#marazhai aezyrraesh#dont listen to how he tries to portray himself hes LAME and i thoroughly enjoy that about him#like. marazhai is a social outcast on so many levels and he is trying SO hard to compensate. it makes him incredibly interesting#ive seen some stuff of him later on but not all that much so im really curious how it'll go/how well i've grasped him#my current thoughts on him? he's just. fundamentally someone who desperately wants to be understood#but in all his long life he's never found it. and commorragh isnt a place for weakness like that. so he acts over it#he pretends to be some great evil mastermind with a lot of flair which is Intentional. because he doesnt know how to act like other drukhar#so concealing that is the best he's got. he doesnt realise the yawning gaps that show it for what it is and bring distain on him anyway#drukhari hate him because he's not like them. he's odd and dramatic and takes things to heart when he shouldnt but dismisses things he shou#he's tolerated for his blood connections and how it killing him could be an invitation for feud. he's also easy to get out of the way#send him to go chat to some mon keigh he'll be so fixated on setting the stage for the meeting he'll miss the important stuff#humans hate him bc he's drukhari. they believe the way he portrays himself because it fits propaganda#hell he may've even learned how to act drukhari from human stories. it'd fit tbh. ....i want to think more on this now#either way he loses. and tbh thats why i do like the idea of him with pasqal. theyre both freaks and social outcasts despite their ranks
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dira333 · 3 days
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Wanna go out? - Tamaki Amajiki x Reader
Featuring Kirishima as the best wingman ever.
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“You’d probably be more successful if you didn’t already expect the worst,” Eijirou points out from the kitchen.
“I know, I just…” you helplessly shrug. “I know my success rate, is all.”
“You’re not a firm trying to sell a product, you’re a beautiful, fun and kind person trying to find a partner.”
“And how well that has gone,” you joke but without much humor.
“Stop it,” he commands, setting your coffee down in front of you. “And tell me, is there anyone you found nice last night?”
You think back. 
It had been such a nice gesture from Eijirou to bring you with him, especially considering he technically had a date - Mina. 
All the faces and names you’ve learned dance in front of your eyes, but if you’re being honest, there’s only one person who stood out to you.
You hide behind your coffee cup, but it’s too late. You didn’t grow up alongside Eijirou for nothing, it seems.
“Spit it out,” he grins, his eyes full of hope. Oh, if only you could go on without disappointing him.
“Tamaki,” you admit finally, swallowing your nerves.
Eijirou beams up at you. “Really? That’s amazing. He’s an awesome guy!”
“Sure, sure,” you nod, swallowing and swallowing. “But you know, I’m me, so…”
Eijirou’s face falls. “What? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You know what I mean. I can’t remember if I ever had a second date. You know my flaws and-”
“Tamaki is a really great guy,” Eijirou points out, emphasizing the word “great”.
You nod, your heart already sinking. “I got that. Which is exactly why that’s not going to happen.”
“Come on!” Eijirou whines. “You know he’s a little shy, but he’s nice. Why don’t you send him a text? Just ask to do something like yesterday again, hang out a little, chat over stuff. I’m sure he won’t say no.”
“And then?”
“And then you find out if you two are compatible. Or if you prefer staying friends. Don’t expect too much at first, he’s shy, remember?”
You take a deep breath, pick up your phone and stare at the screen. Could it really be so simple?
Eijirou himself is checking his own messages, smiling as he answers one.
Stealing yourself against the inevitable rejection you type a quick message, your thumb hovering over the send button.
“What do you have to lose?” Eijirou asks as if knowing what you’re about to do. 
And he’s right. You’ve been rejected enough times to know how to deal with it by know.
Seconds later, your eyes still on the screen, a little shocked about your own bravery, the blue checkmarks appear. He’s seen it. 
You slam your phone down, overcome with anxiety. If he answers, you don’t want to see it. At least not until you’ve calmed down a little.
“Oh,” Eijirou breathes out with a laugh. “Tamaki’s calling.”
“I need to pee,” you yelp, getting out there as fast as you can.
You don’t know yet that when you return, the first of many messages will wait in your inbox.
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soaps-mohawk · 15 hours
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I've got some very exciting news
Since the start of October is about a week away (I know how gross where did the year go?) and we all know that marks the start of the kinkiest month of the year, I've got some exciting news
I am doing Kinktober this year, as I think I've stated before previously. I'm not doing every day again this year since I had to make my own list and just didn't really feel inspired by some and just didn't have the energy to write others.
Then I got a brilliant idea.
This year's Kinktober will have a...bit of a theme...
Allow me to use a meme to explain
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Yes, all of my kinktober fics will be centered around Kyle, our beloved Gaz, Mr. Severely Underappreciated And That's A Crime.
The fics are all kink-related. Some are just straight kinks, others may involve some uh...other things 😏
I'll be releasing a more in-depth post closer to October 1st that will also serve as the masterlist (and I will be linking it on my navigation post as its own link). I have an update schedule planned for Kinktober (and CRCB will still be ongoing during October but we will be having a conversation about that fic separately) and will be posting on my taglist blog for Kinktober fics as well since that blog is for everything that gets released on this blog. So if you would like to be notified of when Kinktober fics come out, give that blog a follow and turn on notifications. (I sound like a YouTuber)
Anyway, that's the plan. We're giving Kyle some much deserved attention and love for Kinktober. I will also have some other things going on over on my Patreon for paid-Patrons since I can't make NSFW stuff public, so if you're interested go and check that out.
But yes, so much content is coming in October for y'all and honestly I'm really excited. You'll get more detailed info in the Kinktober masterlist which will probably be dropping closer to the weekend or maybe even next Monday. We'll see. I'll also be posting some news about CRCB here soon as well, also probably closer to the end of the week.
Anyway, I hope you all have a lovely day and I'll be back regularly scheduled weekly posting (asks and comment reblogs) here probably in a couple hours from when this post originally posted. If you're seeing this later then...I've probably already started 💚
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thecosmicangel · 23 hours
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It’s the law of ASSUMPTION not the law of believing it, so no you don’t necessarily have to believe it for it to true. And you are not new to manifesting you have been doing it your whole life.
Really think about it, why would we need to work hard or be deserving of something to have it? If that where the case then “bad people” wouldn’t have the money or lifestyle that they have. Do you think that if we had to be deserving of things, good people would suffer? Did they deserve the bad things to happen?Since we been born we have been programmed with limiting viewpoint and beliefs saying things like
“Good things take time”
“You have to work hard to earn it”
You have to deserve it
If it’s meant to be it will be
It will happen in divine timing
You have to be completely healed to have it
You have to be vibrating at a high frequency
You have to be positive all the time
You have to be patient, everything happens for a reason
Or you have to be logical , be realistic
And so much more. This is why you can make up your own rules because everyone else is, everyone decided what they choose to believe / assume to be true for them and based on that they experience their reality.
Just because we are born and exist is enough proof and validation for why we deserve to have what we want. We have those desires and dreams for a reason. We were created to experience all of our desires. Do you really think we were born to work a horrible or boring job everyday for the rest of our lives? Do you think you were born to suffer ? Do you think you were just born to desire stuff but not get them? No we were born to experience being god in our own way, by creating our own realities. Creating our own heaven in earth.
Stop limiting yourself by thinking you have to wait,or that you have to earn it. God doesn’t wait , so why would we have to wait? If we were meant to wait we wouldn’t have a burning desire for what we want, that in itself is proof that the desire is waiting on you to accept it and make it yours!!! The bad/ unwanted circumstance we create didn’t have to wait so why does the good or our desires have to wait? I’ll show you how it’s irrelevant to wait , say you want a certain shirt, jeans or whatever that you know is available at a store, well you know you have everything you need to buy it so you will order it or go to the store and buy it because you want it, you are not waiting around to see if the shirt wants you or if some other power wants you to have it, you simply decide you are buying it because you want it. I mean unless you want to procrastinate and overthink if you really want it or not then yeah it might take you sometime to decide on buying the shirt, but it’s all the same thing. Nothing is harder or easier to manifest everything is neutral and only based on your assumptions if it’s hard or easy.
Everything starts of with an idea or thought. Think about all the inventions in the world, someone had that idea and made it happen. Even science is based on ideas/ observations, they start of with a hypothesis.
Your desires are manifesting you, they are calling on you or else you wouldn’t want them ( the desire is calling you, not you calling it, so pick up the phone and answer the call) your desires are here and available for you the second you become aware of them it’s just waiting on you to take it & accept it. Trust that they can happen instantly too, make an assumption/rule on how long it takes for you to manifest things. Create your own rules and what it takes to manifest without doubting it. Do you just want to affirm or assume once and that’s all? Because really that is all you need to do and not contradict it and it will manifest.
If you want to see how it works try it out with something you know you can manifest, for example when I would doubt my power I would set up little test for me, “I would say today I want to see a purple Lamborghini” not even 5 minutes later I would see a purple Lamborghini. Another day I would say I want to see “xyz” I would be as descriptive as I wanted and then I would see it later on that day. This just helped me understand and see proof of how my mind works and how easy it is to manifest. So if you’re having trouble understanding the law try this little experiment out for yourself. The same way I could manifest seeing the things I wanted for my experiment is the same way I could manifest everything else, now the thing is to not contradict myself and stick to one story and it will inevitably be.
-xoxo, the cosmic angel ⭐️🪽
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wickedsmille · 1 day
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de-aged!Jason and it's tim's problem
Warnings for Jason being a wee little bean (sort of), Tim's super stellar skills with teenagers and the lack of any kind of editing. I wrote this and abandoned it so long ago but discovered it and was like aw, ok, s'kinda cute. :v
It's a tame gen fic with platonic cuddles and vague mentions to Jason and Tim's not so fantastic childhoods.
So. *vague hand wave*
“No. No way.” Tim is freaking out. 
He has ample reason to freak out because -
“Who the fuck are you?” Jason demands. 
Except, it isn’t Jason because Jason is over six inches taller with over a hundred pounds of extra muscle. Jason is nearly Bruce’s size, not some long limbed, gangly teenager just starting to grow into his shoulders. Granted, the surly scowl and inner fire is all Jason, as is the narrow eyed suspicion. So is the far too large leather jacket and armor hanging off him and the domino barely holding on. It’s a small blessing he’d forwent his helmet for patrol. 
“Your worst nightmare,” Tim replies automatically. 
Realizing the inappropriateness of what he’s said, regardless of his always wanting to say it, makes him grimace because, yeah, for a while he kind of was Jason’s worst nightmare. They’ve slipped into something approaching civil co-workers since Jason decided to invade Titans Tower to test him via a vicious beatdown but they are nowhere near take care of each other after a magical mishap territory. 
At Tim’s words, Jason drops down lower into a fighting stance and squares up with Tim, unafraid and ready to brawl even if Tim is obviously trained because only the rare few decided to go out at night in a costume and mask without the skills to back it up. And Tim is bigger than Jason. By maybe an inch but he’ll take it. It’s still a victory considering adult, not magically de-aged Jason is a behemoth. 
Waving his hands frantically, Tim amends his previous statement. “That came out wrong.”
“How does ‘Your worst nightmare’ come out wrong?” Jason spits.
“Okay, tell me you’ve never wanted to quote a movie in the middle of a fight,” Tim shoots back.
Jason seems to chew on Tim’s words before he loosens up and stands though the tension refuses to leave and the wariness remains. “If you make one wrong move I’ll smack the shit out of you.”
“Been there, done that,” Tim says as his mouth gets away from him again. 
“Wait, what?”
Later, when he’s alone, Tim is going to bang his head against a wall and smother himself with his own pillow. He can’t <i>wait</i> so long as it makes him forget the misery that is this moment in which he can’t keep his mouth shut and he has a teenage Jason Todd staring him down like he’s crazy. Which, fair. None of the Bats are sane, per say.
“What do you remember?” Tim asks tiredly.
Jason chews over his words, coiled tight and still ready to strike. His gaze roves over Tim before he finally says, “I am. Was? Robin, I think. But I was just living on the street. So, I don’t,” Jason trails off, unsure. 
“So you remember some stuff from being Robin and some from before that but not everything?” Tim guesses.
Nodding hesitantly, Tim fights the urge to slap a hand to his head. Why not make things more complicated by not only taking years off Jason’s life but also jumbling the memories he does have? Tim doesn’t mind. This is perfectly fine. Without going over each detail, there’s no way to accurately tell how much Jason does or does not remember. It’s clear he remembers being Robin but not moving in with Bruce. The two things are so closely linked, it doesn’t bode well for what other holes are in Jason’s mind. But it’s fine. 
Tim decides not to say anything else and runs his hands through his hair. It’s a good thing Bruce isn’t in town, JL business as usual these days unless one of the big name Gotham Rogues starts causing trouble, or he’d be all over tiny Jason. There is one other plausible candidate to stick on Jason Duty. A candidate already in Gotham and primed for endless cuddles and forced bonding sessions since his newest victim is spending a few weeks respite at the Kent Farm. Dick is going to be ecstatic.
Reaching up, Tim turns his com back on and pretends like Jason doesn’t flinch. “Nightwing?”
“RR,” Dick greets cheerily. “What can I do you for?”
“I’ve got a situation.”
The shift between Dick the Brother and Nightwing the Protector is stark as he asks, “Are you in trouble?”
Hesitantly, Tim hedges, “Well, not <i>me</i>, but. You’ll want to see this. Meet us back at the Cave in twenty.”
“Us?”
Tim clicks off the com and mutes it. Sure, it’ll drive Dick up a wall to not know what’s going on but Tim doesn’t feel like getting badgered into telling the whole sordid tale of Red Robin and Red Hood getting bested by a two bit magician with a splintered down piece of wood and a pointed hat. Embarrassing would not even begin to cover it so he doesn’t fancy having anyone else drop into the conversation, Barbara.
The lesser of the two evils is obviously to let Dick stew in the knowledge that Tim is safe and whole but hiding a secret. There is no other possible resource. None that would save Tim’s already wounded and dying pride. 
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” Jason tells him harshly.
Tim fixes him with a flat look. “I’m not dealing with this, your brother can so you can either come with willingly or I’m tossing you over my shoulder and you’re still coming with.” How crazy is it to think he could easily carry Jason.
Jason tries to stare him down but Tim cocks a hip, crosses his arms and waits patiently. Eventually, Jason relaxes by inches. 
“Something happened to me, didn’t it?”
Tim can’t help but roll his eyes no matter how unfair it is to Jason since he can’t remember. “No,” Tim replies sarcastically, again knowing he’s being unfair but the universe started it by getting him into this mess. 
“You don’t need to be a bag of dicks.”
“You don’t need to use such language, young man.”
Jason looks like he sucked on something sour as he crosses his arms and hunches his shoulder inward. There’s a faint dusting of pink over his cheeks. It makes Tim feel a little bad. As far as he can tell, Jason is fifteen again, which sends a pang of hurt through Tim’s chest with the implications, which means he has all the false bluster and bravado that comes with being a teenager with the added bonus of being hypersensitive to embarrassment and criticism. He should stop being such an ass. 
Heaving a sigh, Tim waves Jason over as he turns his back and starts making his way down the alley to where his bike is parked. Hesitantly, Jason follows but his steps quicken as they draw near and he gets a look at Tim’s bike. The resistance is gone and replaced with awe as he circles the machine despite Tim swinging his leg over and mounting it. Patiently, like a saint, he allows Jason his moment of wonder. It is a beautiful work of ingenuity and power. 
Then the seconds drag out. Looking over his shoulder, Tim raises a brow and shrugs a shoulder towards the back of his bike. “So, I did tell Nightwing twenty minutes.”
“And the longer I keep us here the faster you’ll have to drive,” Jason replies without missing a beat, bent over and inspecting the anti-locking mechanism on the back brakes.
Tim grins, small and dangerous. “Alright. I’ll give you a couple more minutes.”
He gives Jason more than a few minutes because he knows the streets are empty and he can safely push his bike faster than he would without an excuse like chasing bad guys or coming to someone’s rescue. It took some coaxing to get Jason on and even longer to get him to wrap his arms securely around Tim but, once they had set off and Tim ran his third red light, both of them settled in for the too fast ride. Midway, Tim decides to show off and skid through a particularly sharp turn. It’s a flawless maneuver and Jason shows his appreciation by whooping loudly.
Tim does it again once they reach the cave. This time, he drifts into a narrow parking spot between the Batmobile and Nightwing’s bike. Jason’s arms tighten around him as they skirt the edges of the Batmobile by millimeters and he doesn’t let go even after they’ve come to a stop and Tim has killed the engine. Eventually, Tim has to pat Jason’s arms to get him off so Tim can breathe properly again. Jason promptly scrambles off at that. 
By the time Tim is turning around to face the main part of the Cave, Dick already by their side with a worried furrow to his brow. He blinks once at Jason, looks at Tim, blinks again at Jason then melts. 
“Oh my gods,” Dick says softly. He looks delighted and Tim does not envy Jason who’s eyeing him critically.
“When did you get so old?” Jason asks unkindly. 
Dick throws a hand over his heart and actually looks slightly offended. “Wow, okay, so I’m not <i>old</i> -”
“Yes, you are.”
“And, wow, I forgot how much of a little shit you were,” Dick finishes fondly. 
Jason bristles and looks like he wants to shove his hands in his pockets but the armored cargo pants are hanging too low for him to manage it without looking ridiculous. 
To make up for his earlier mistakes, Tim cuts in to take pity on Jason. “Turns out the guy we were chasing was the real deal. I assume you can give Zatanna a call and handle it?”
Together, Dick and Jason both ask, “You’re not sticking around?”
Tim glances between the two of them, bewildered. “Uh, no? I get enough second hand teenage angst from Damian.”
Jason doesn’t look happy about it but Dick does. He nods amicably and smiles widely. “That’s alright, I volunteer myself as tribute.” 
Without warning, he moves towards Jason with his arms raised and posed to envelope the teen in a patented Dick Grayson Hug. Swiftly, Jason side steps him and slides behind Tim so he’s blocking any other attempts Dick might make. Some of Dick’s joy falls but he looks undeterred as he lowers his arms and doesn’t move forward again. If Tim weren’t hanging onto some old hurts still and feeling petty, he’d feel a little bad for Dick. 
Tim shifts, trying to edge his way over to the computer so he can type up his report and be on his merry way but Jason gets closer and follows him like Tim’s shadow. The entire time, Dick keeps staring. The longer it goes on, the more Jason scowls at him. It is hilarious and, were Tim a casual observer, he would have burst out laughing long ago. As it is, he’s an unwilling participant in Dick and Jason’s detente and caught in the middle as Dick barely restrains himself from draping himself over Jason while Jason looks more and more like he wants to kick Dick in the nuts. 
Pointedly, Tim sits down in the computer chair which leaves Jason nowhere to go. He sticks by Tim’s side regardless, eyeing Dick who has followed them like a puppy waiting for a treat. Cuddles with his younger than normal little brother being the treat. 
There’s quiet for a few blessed minutes before Jason asks awkwardly, “What’s your name? I didn’t get it before.”
“You never asked before,” Tim says absently as he starts to write up his report. His fingers may go a little faster than usual in an attempt to hurry his escape. “But it’s Red Robin.”
“Like the restaurant?” Tim doesn’t have to look at Jason to know he’s judging. He can hear it.
“Yum,” Tim says flatly. 
“And,” Jason starts. Tim can make out Jason shifting awkwardly. “What about your real name?”
Tim cuts a glance Jason’s way and takes in the frown, the hardened edge to his eyes as they look between the Cave and Tim, the uncertainty. He shouldn’t feel guilty. He doesn’t. It’s not like he did anything wrong. But Jason didn’t either. The wannabe mage got lucky and it could’ve easily been Tim drowning in his uniform and overwhelmed by the way everything has changed from what he remembered. 
Looking back at the computer and continuing the report, Tim caves and answers, “Tim. My name is Tim. I was the Robin that came after you.”
“So this,” Jason pauses to wiggle in his armor, “was my idea when I passed on Robin?” Tim looks to see Jason giving the guns hanging from hips a dubious look. Right, he probably should have taken away the firearms.
There is so much wrong with what Jason said and has left unsaid. In no universe does Tim want to volunteer himself to answer. No amount of cutting edge tech, unlimited Zesti or epic W&W campaigns could make him handle this conversation. 
Tim searches for Dick who’s apparently made himself look busy at one of the closer work benches. His hands have stopped tinkering with the grapple gun he’d been poking moments ago and his back goes rigid. No matter how miffed he is with Dick, he doesn’t have the heart to make him handle answering Jason either. Lying is an option. Lying is a fantastic option but Jason deserves more than that.
Carefully, Tim settles on, “Yes, all that was your idea. You didn’t really pass on Robin but I don’t think we should get into it. I hope you’ll trust me and leave it alone for now.”
The silence stretches on between them, broken up only by Tim’s typing. 
“Okay,” Jason eventually answers. “Don’t get me wrong, I trust you about as far as I can throw you.”
“Let’s not test that.”
“What if I want to?” Jason asks cheekily. 
“Then we’ll see how far I can toss you,” Tim tells him simply.
“Oh, it is on, Tim.”
“Like Donkey Kong,” Tim agrees. “Later though. I’m trying to finish this and then I need to leave.”
“Didn’t peg you for a cut and run kind of person.”
“More the strategic retreat kind.”
“Sounds like you’re scared,” Jason goads him.
Tim spares him an unimpressed frown. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing.”
Jason smiles, sincere and cocky. “Is it working?”
“Hardly,” Tim drawls as he puts the finishing touches on the report.
He stands to leave once he’s saved and exited out of the file. Immediately, Jason’s hand shoots out and grabs Tim’s wrist. Surprised, Tim looks at him and doesn’t fight the tight grip Jason has on him. 
“Don’t leave me with him,” Jason mutters.
Tim looks at Dick who has the audacity to plaster on an innocent smile while leaning casually against the workbench. He can see it now. As soon as he leaves, Dick will be all over Jason. It won’t be the regular, suffocating attention Dick focuses on a sibling when he zeroes in on a member of the family. Oh no, it’ll be a hellish combination of guilt and excessive affection to make up for time lost and amend mistakes years in the past. Tim pinches the bridge of his nose just thinking about it. 
“Why don’t I drop you off with Alfred?” Tim counters.
Jason brightens but he doesn’t let go of Tim. “Alfie’s here?”
“Indeed,” Alfred says primly from his spot next to where the Cave connects with the manor. “Master Tim, why don’t you help Master Jason out of suit while Master Dick and I see to finding him something more suitable to wear and finishing dinner?” Alfred says it like a question but it’s far from it. 
Dick starts to protest but one look from Alfred has him clamming up. He scurries over to the lockers at Alfred’s prompting to change and shower before coming up where he’ll be waiting. Dawlding is strongly discouraged. 
Tim can recognize when his plans to flee have been thoroughly foiled. Looking Heaven-ward to plead the universe for mercy, Tim spins in the chair to face Jason. He looks a little terrified so Tim smiles gently. 
“He’s right. It can’t be comfortable wearing that and I’m familiar with the security measures built into the suit. Is it alright if I help?” Tim asks him first. Slowly, Jason nods and Tim watches as he swallows hard. Tell you what, why don’t I take the guns and I’ll walk you through everything else?” Tim offers.
“Oh gods, please,” Jason says quickly. His mouth snaps shut after, the flush on his cheeks moving up to the tips of his ears. “I mean, yeah, sounds good.”
Tim bites his lip to keep from laughing and silently disengages the security on the holsters and slips it off. He instructs Jason on how to do the same with the rest of the armor. He keeps his voice level and void of any condemnation or coddling as he does so. Surprisingly, it’s mostly painless. At least on Tim’s part. Jason looks about ready to bolt which Tim gets it, he does. The whole thing reminds him of school locker rooms and playing catch up on social norms in the worst setting possible.
That mildly traumatizing experience over with, Tim slaps his thighs and stands. “Why don’t we grab something to eat and get you into something less,” Tim stops and waves his hand at Jason but doesn’t continue. 
Even the compression shirt and pants underneath the suit are too large on Jason. He frowns down at the clothes and says sourly, “It’s not my fault I grow up to be a behemoth.”
“True,” Tim concedes. Again, they’re skating the edges of an endless rabbit hole he doesn’t want Jason to fall down. While he seems to be handling the situation well, no doubt prepped by Bruce for all manner of insane contingencies as a part of his training, Tim doubts a recounting of Jason’s death would go over as well. “Clothes and dinner then?”
“I’m not a kid so don’t treat me like one,” Jason snaps. 
“Stop looking like one and I will,” Tim counters. “I’m going to go change but you know the way up if you don’t want to wait.”
Although Tim isn’t expecting Jason to still be in the cave by the time he’s dressed down in sweatpants and a t-shirt after a sorely needed shower, he hurries through his usual after patrol routine. Just in case. The foresight turns out to be fruitful since Jason is meandering around the Cave, pausing to examine something he doesn’t recognize. When Tim comes out from the locker area, Jason’s head swivels around. 
This time Tim has no plausible reason for Jason to blush but blush he does as he looks over Tim. Deciding to ignore it, Tim finishes drying his hair and lets the towel sit around his shoulders. He nods towards the exit up to the manor. 
The trip up is uneventful. Alfred appears beside them as they emerge from the Cave and holds out a neatly folded pile of clothes. Jason takes them gratefully and ducks away to the nearest bathroom while Tim makes his way to the kitchen. With so few in the house, it’s rare they sit down in the family dining room and, as he anticipated, Alfred has dinner spread out on the nook tucked away in the corner of the kitchen. The food looks delicious, smells delicious, but Tim’s itching to leave and he knows, if he sits down with everyone, he’ll get wrangled into staying. 
From behind, Jason appears once more and Dick follows after, hovering as one does when their little brother has been demoted to extra tiny little brother. Jason, for the most part, takes it with grace by giving Dick only one heated glare over his shoulder. Jason comes to stand before Tim then Dick falls into line too. He descends on the food, plating it up and chattering away. Tim indulges him, hums where he needs to and answers any questions Dick throws his way, but Jason stays quiet. 
He doesn’t make a move to grab any food for himself which is not Tim’s problem. Jason has shown he remembers living in the manor, being Robin and Bruce’s son, so there’s no reason he can’t help himself. Tim leaves him to it so he can dig around in the pantry for one of the energy bars he knows he squirreled away in the back when he moved out for exactly this situation. As he’s shutting the pantry door, victorious with a couple bars in his hand, Jason is looking at him. He’s eyeing the food in Tim’s hand then looking at Alfred’s spread like it’ll bite him. 
It takes a second for the pieces to click together but Ra’s doesn’t call Tim Detective for no reason.
Sidling up to Jason’s side, he holds out one of the bars which Jason takes hesitantly. 
“I get it. I can grab more if you want,” Tim tells him kindly. 
Jason looks ready to beat him with the protein bar as he hisses, “What would you know, rich boy? Don’t think I haven’t noticed your Bristol accent.”
“Packaged food is safe, right?” Tim asks him rhetorically, his voice cold. Jason’s comment rubs him the wrong way. “Don’t have to worry about something being in it or being spoiled. Hard habit to shake when you fall back on old conditioning.”
Jason flinches back. 
“Hey, you guys coming?” Dick asks through a mouthful of food from where he’s seated at the table.
“Nah, neither of us is very hungry,” Tim lies smoothly. “We’ll probably grab a couple snacks.”
Dick looks upset about the change in course, frowning around another forkful of food. Like magic, Alfred sweeps into the room before Dick can protest. 
“Perhaps retire to the sitting room? I can have an assortment of snack items brought in. I dare say a calm night in would do this family good.” There’s a knowing glint in Alfred’s eye.
Remembering Dick’s propensity for cuddles and Jason’s resistance to it, Tim bumps Jason’s shoulder as he says, “What do you think? Or do you want to pick?”
“Library, I’d prefer the library,” Jason says automatically.
Alfred smiles without smiling. “Very good, Master Jason. I’ll bring a few things up to you and Master Tim if you’d like to go get settled now.”
“Actually-” Tim tries to interject. Jason will be fine. From what Tim’s learned, the library is Jason’s safe space, he’ll have food to eat and he’ll have Alfred to help him through. Tim isn’t needed. He’s not even sure why he’s being so nice.
It’s not them. With no idea on how to overcome the bad blood between himself and Jason, Tim hasn’t tried to repair their relationship and Jason hasn’t made any effort to either. Really, Tim should’ve left Jason to Dick and Alfred back in the cave. Putting his foot down would’ve had him gone already, sitting in his nest and ordering pizza while going over his active cases. 
But Jason looks so lost. He’s fronting, falling on the familiar anger and confidence he’s always had. He’s regressing back into a mindset more befitting the streets now that he’s so uncomfortable and likely feeling cornered. It’s so unlike the Jason Tim knows. Jason’s always been full of piss and vinegar but this softer version? It makes Tim’s heart hurt a little but in a way he can’t ignore. 
Like Jason has read Tim’s mind, his hand wraps around Tim’s wrist again and he pulls him out of the kitchen.
Leading them into the foyer and up the stairs, with his back to Tim, he asks, “How did you know? About the food.”
Taken aback by Jason’s aggressive exit and his new role as a tow-along, the truth slips out. “Uh, my parents. They left me alone a lot and forgot sometimes about the groceries. I got sick a couple times from eating spoiled stuff so I stuck to non-perishables.”
In answer, Jason grunts. “That’s fucked up.”
“My therapist agrees.”
“You have a therapist?”
Tim laughs. “Of course not. What respectable Bat does?”
When Jason laughs with him, it shakes loose something warm in Tim’s chest. He shakes away the feeling as Jason pushes into the library. Once they’re inside, Jason releases him. He doesn’t move right away, instead choosing to stand and survey the room.
Working on another hunch, Tim walks past Jason to a closet tucked away in the corner. Throwing the door open, he gatherers as many of the pillows and blankets inside as he can fit in his arms, kicks the door shut and dumps his haul on the bay window overseeing the back gardens. He arranges it all to make a comfortable looking nest. Once done, he nods in approval and gives himself a pat on the back. He cracks open the window as a finishing touch and presents his handiwork with a flourish.
“Easy exit, sight lines to all access points and extra pillows perfect for relaxing,” Tim says. Jason stays locked looking at him so Tim raises a brow. “Are you going to grab a book or stare at me all day?”
Jason jolts out of whatever trance he’d fallen into and quickly says, “Yeah, yep, I’ll go do the book thing with the reading.”
Tim smiles fondly as Jason trots into the shelves to retrieve a book. Tim can hear Jason as he searches for a book. The sounds are not encouraging. There’s a lot of murmured curses, grunting and frustrated growls. Once more, Tim resigns himself to helping out Jason. It doesn’t feel as much like a chore anymore.
“Issues?” Tim calls.
“They’re all 1st editions!” Jason yells back. “Who does that?”
“Give me a second,” Tim hollers back. 
Because Tim had a hard time leaving well enough alone as a kid, he knows Jason’s old room has several well worn copies of Jason’s favorites. Ones that could get thrown in a fire and he’d be out a couple bucks to replace it, cheap copies he can use over and over again till the pages are fraying and the spines have separated. Tim picks the lock on Jason’s old room and grabs a couple of the most worn down paperbacks. A young Tim may have been armed with curiosity and a lack of boundaries but he didn’t go so far as to read Jason’s favorites. Definitely not. That wasn’t a thing. 
Back in the library, Jason has settled into the seat of the bay window. He holds out the books to Jason who takes them and inspects each. 
“Are you a mind reading meta or something?” Jason asks him suspiciously. 
“No, nothing like that,” Tim replies.
“So someone just fucked you up real good like me?”
Grinning ruefully, Tim shrugs. “I like to think I turned out alright.”
“Yeah, you did.” Jason clamps his mouth shut after his off hand comment and his face goes red. Suddenly, he’s a lot more focused on the books in his hands than talking to Tim.
Tim’s not touching that with a ten foot pole but it’s still amusing. He settles on the floor, content to wait for Alfred, snacks and the excuse that it’s getting late so he can slip away guilt-free.
“You’re seriously going to sit down there?” Jason eventually asks to break the companionable silence between them. 
Seeing a possible out, Tim responds, “I can go somewhere else if you’d rather be alone?” He doubts it since Jason has imprinted on him or somehow deemed Tim a safe person and latched on but a man can hope.
When he looks up, he meets Jason’s eye. The blush is back in full force. “No, I don’t like being alone,” he admits grudgingly. 
The something warm in Tim’s chest is back again, stronger than before. It makes his brain soupy, or it’s the exhaustion and need for sleep. Either way, Tim tells him, “Neither do I.”
“So get up here,” Jason demands. Very pointedly, Tim looks at the bay window and the distinct lack of space to fit an extra person. Aggressively opening one of his books, scowling at the pages, Jason mutters, “Just fucking get up here.”
When Jason hops out of burrow of blankets and points at the window seat, Tim figures he can humor him. What’s the harm, after all? If anything it proves the point that although it is incredibly comfortable with the way Tim layered the blankets there’s no way they could both fit. He spreads his arms wide to encompass the fact that there isn’t enough room for them to share. 
The humor drains right out of him as Jason steps up to the window, his expression twists together in a curious mix of angry fear and climbs into Tim’s lap. Tim would like to amend that. Jason awkwardly climbs up into his lap. Actually, it is super awkward. 
Tim’s so stunned by the forwardness of the actions that all the words he wants to push past his lips get stuck and die on his tongue. 
Like this is any old day and not what’s shaping up to be one of the weirdest days of Tim’s life, Jason scooches over as far as he can till his back is pressed against the window. He’s half turned towards the ceiling but tucked tightly against Tim’s side. It’s not cuddling, not really with Tim’s arm pinned between them and Jason doing his best to squeeze back so they don’t touch even though it’s unavoidable. It is tangentially related to cuddling though. 
Jason starts reading. Tim starts staring at him blankly.
“You’re shit at cuddling,” Jason grumbles.
As if Tim’s brain couldn’t break anymore, here comes a teenage Jason to bulldoze over the semblance of a higher thinking he’d been able to scrape together. With his mind officially offline, Tim’s mouth takes the wheel.
“I haven’t had much practice.”
Taking Tim’s arm, he pulls it out from between them and sits up enough he can get it around his shoulders. Once satisfied, he grabs Tim’s other arm and drapes it around his chest as he lies fully on his side. He even nuzzles into Tim’s chest then goes back to reading.  
What.
“My mom used to cuddle me like this,” Jason whispers, eyes never leaving the pages of his paperback.
How is Tim supposed to handle that? He is not equipped for this. They have officially bumbled, dived head first, into things better handled by Dick. Or Steph. Or Cass. Not Tim. But is he mad about it? He has to stop and think about that.
Tim tightens his arms and scoots down a little to get into a more comfortable position. He’s no expert on cuddling but it seems like something that can take a while. Until Jason is back to his fire-fed-gasoline attitude, Tim can deal with this, he decides. He’s already caved to every other whim Jason has had, has helped him feel more centered when his entire world has shifted, so he may as well stop fighting it so much and get it over with before Jason gets the chip back on his shoulder. It’s like ripping off a bandaid. 
Sleepily, Jason asks him, “You keep watch, yeah?”
Patting his arm, Tim hums, “Yeah, no worries. I’ll be the look out.”
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fastboatsmojito · 2 days
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It’s my birthday today! I’m turning 22 and I’m scared… can I get a Scott writing please 🥺 to make me feel better, I love your writing 💕
Omg happy birthday !!!!! of course <33
Red velvet - Scott Miller x reader <3
| a/n; Scott is not a birthday party kinda guy to me but he is good at planning things so he’ll just have to suck it up :p + I hope you have a lovely birthday dearest!!! 🫶🏼
| wc; 673
| cw; mostly fluff, slightly sweeter than usual Scott, a splash suggestive at the end but only if you want it to be 🙇
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You woke up to Scott’s side of the bed empty, still foggy and confused as you walked into the kitchen for some water. You didn’t plan on doing much for your birthday, proposing a sweet day in with your boyfriend instead of some elaborate party, both of you scheduled the day off weeks ago.
“What are you doing?” You asked, groggy voice barely coming out as you stood, staring down the usually annoyingly clean man that is currently covered in a layer of flour. His head snapped up from his work to explain, mimicking a similar amount of surprise on his face that he found on your own.
“You’re not supposed to be up yet. It’s barely seven, go back to sleep.” He said plainly, dusting the flour off of his hands.
“You’re baking?” You unconvincingly tried to hold back a laugh as you said it, bringing when he rolled his eyes at you.
“I bake all the time.”
“You cook all the time,” You corrected, walking behind him to grab a glass. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with an apron on.” Your gaze was pointed at the white fabric covering his shirt as he moved closer to you, taking the cup from your hands and pouring some water for you.
“Consider it a birthday present.” He said, smug as he handed you the now cold glass before cupping your face in his flour-coated hands and placing a soft kiss on your head.
“Happy birthday, by the way. I have some real fun stuff planned later that I’m sure you’d love even more if you slept a little longer first.” He knew you’d want a nap later if you were up this early and that’d interrupt some of his plans, but more than that he wanted you out of the kitchen so he could continue preparing without your stolen glances.
——
After just a few more hours of sleep you woke back up, this time to Scott walking in the room with a plate of breakfast. He walked over as you sat up, handing you a mouth watering plate of pancakes.
“Oh my god this smells amazing, thank you.” You praised, smiling up at him.
You both ate in bed, Scotts usually not a big fan of food in bed in general but clearly he decided to make an exception for your special day.
——
For a while you just lounged around together, basking in the comfort of each other you typically wouldn’t have so long with on a weekday.
Around lunch he told you to get ready, handing you the first gift of many; a black box encompassing a gorgeous dress that you’d seen a few weeks prior when you were out together. You didn’t buy it then since you figured you didn’t have anywhere to wear it. He watched your reaction as you stood speechless.
“That’s the color you wanted, right? I kept the receipt if you-“ You stopped him before he could continue, shaking your head as you held it in front of you.
“It’s perfect.” You studied the soft fabric before setting it down to give him a hug, squeezing him tight as you breathed in the warm scent of his cologne.
“Happy birthday, baby.”
——-
After a lovely dinner he brought you back home, letting you wear his jacket the second you stepped outside. You held his hand as you walked in, gasping when you saw all of the decorations. All pretty balloons and flowers with a big cake from his earlier escapades sitting on the table to top it off.
“Scott! How’d you-“
“I had a little help.” He shrugged, smiling as he watched you look up at him with excitement.
“Go on.” He let go of your hand to guide you in, “You’ve got a lot of present unwrapping to do and if you want, when you’re all done with those, I’ll give you something else.” He whispered the last part, minty as always breath over your skin as he gave your jaw a kiss before gently pushing you to walk all the way in.
——
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