#time to attempt a nap!!!! Them!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[komorebiisgarden]

hi! can you do forsaken x Shark reader or fish reader?

that would be so great if you do it :D

Have a good day!

forsaken survivors x axolotl!reader headcanons .ᐟ

a/n: woah woah are you reading my mind or something anon how did you know i was thinking about shark!reader just now,,,,,, i'm actually saving them for future content, so... *hands you an axolotl!reader* let’s just pretend axolotls count as fish </3 hope this still works for you :,D!

general hcs - you have feathery external gills on your head that twitch whenever you’re startled or excited. - your tail, covered in a soft, flexible membrane, serves as both an extra seat and a weapon. trust me, no one wants to be on the receiving end of that tail when it swings. - your wide, unblinking eyes make your stare suspiciously intense at first, but as people get used to it, there’s almost something innocent about it. even when you’re secretly plotting mischief/ref - despite your poor vision, your hearing is razor-sharp, surpassing everyone else’s in this hellish realm. - you rarely speak, instead letting out tiny squeaks when stressed or overwhelmed. but that's what make you a ninja. get it? image, you randomly appear out of no where behind a survivor and stare right into their soul... - you love napping on soft surfaces, so you have a habit of collecting random items during rounds to make your space (or floor) more 'sleepable'.

elliot - you and elliot are forsaken at the exact same moment. quite literally plummeting from the sky and landing right in his arms. - over time, you two actually get along pretty well! though early on, he’s a bit cautious around you. i mean, who wouldn’t be when faced with someone who stares at you constantly and unblinkingly? - he adores you. not just for how cute you are, but for the way you don’t let the horrors of this hell faze you. whether you realize it or not, you’re his motivation to keep pushing forward. - cooking buddies. for some reason, he thought teaching you how to make meals was a good idea. (rip the kitchen...) - you two never leave the kitchen without at least a dusting of flour or a completely charred sleeve. looks like a food fight just took place rather than an actual attempt at cooking (which isn't far from the truth,,,,) - during rounds, he always tries to leave at least a slice of pizza for you if possible. - he’s protective when you’re together in matches and downright anxious when you’re on your own & gets actual panic attacks when you recklessly dart out of your hiding spot to gather 'supplies' for your space. - afterwards, he scolds you like a tired dad. he doesn’t quite get why you hoard all that stuff, but he lets you keep it anyway. - more than once, he’s caught himself thinking about running his fingers over your feathery gills. it’s not his fault, they just look ridiculously soft… - as for your ‘extra chair���? he only ever sits on it begrudgingly. after a rough match, when he’s too exhausted to drag himself up to his room. - whenever he gets overwhelmed, one way or another, you always appear beside him. whether it’s poking his cheek, squeaking in response to his ranting, or offering the most precious trinkets you’ve found; it never fails to lift his spirits.

chance - upon his arrival, he found you napping beside elliot almost peacefully, if not for the bruises marking both your bodies. - the moment you came into view, they became absolutely fascinated. because weeeeell,,,,, you're a freaking axolotl yourself??? - you were one of the survivors who guided them through their first round... well, sort of. you just grabbed his arm and bolted before chance could even notice the killer is lurking behind. in the end, you kept him safe and unharmed! - afterwards, he went out to find you. not just to thank you, but to understand you better. they had been curious from the very beginning,,, - you two naturally fall into the dynamic of 'yapper x listener.' chance never fails to recount the latest match: great aim, lucky flips, the whole rundown. and you, well… you barely utter a word, but your tiny squeaks speak volumes in response. - if you have no clue how to play poker or monopoly, then congratulations!! you’ve found the perfect 'teacher'. chance will gladly walk you through it, tho not without a bit of playful teasing over how adorable you look falling for his little tricks. - when they’re bored, brace yourself for annoying gills and tail poking. but hey, payback is fair game: you can bite his arm or tail-slap him in the face like the majestic aquatic menace you are. - calls you his lucky charm and jackpot because for some reasons, staying close to you makes their shots land flawlessly. (+ an opportunity to show off lol) - this stupid gambler has somehow decided your stare is both unsettling and endearing. no idea how that works, but whatever... it oddly calms him down after a stressful round anyways. - absolutely adores the way you just plop down next to him in silence. sometimes it's to wrap him up in your “weighted blanket” (aka your tail with its soft membrane). - other times? you're simply using him as a temporary napping spot. - not that he minds tho. If anything, they count it as a small victory. - if anyone questions why he lets you tail-wrap or nap on him, he shrugs. - “it’s a high-roller privilege,” he claims. smugly.

a/n: FUUU finally done! i should’ve posted this sooner, but tumblr sucks and wiped out half of my work,,,, for some reason,,

[haikyu-mp4]

Tip jar – Bokuto x reader wc 2102 – f!reader requested by @helpwhat for A blast from the past, now hiring! edition<3

The cloudy weather left the cafe in an evening dusk, painting the tables in shadows from the windows and anyone who passed by outside them. You sighed heavily, leaning on the counter beside the register with your upper body and watching mindlessly as the two young adults in the corner studied silently, sharing a pair of AirPods. It wasn’t exactly a crowded cafe in the evenings.

However, you couldn’t help but glance at the clock every three minutes, frustration sinking through your skin at the thought that your favourite customer might not come.

And like the sunshine on a cloudy day, Bokuto entered. In a way, you felt his presence alone cast the cafe in a golden glow, while Bokuto could swear that was your smile’s doing.

He sauntered right over to you, where you now leaned on both arms, where you had been practically napping before. “My favourite barista!”

“My favourite customer,” you answered, and it was so sickly sweet with affection that the words felt thick on your lips. “Almost thought you wouldn’t be here today.”

“That’s why you looked so bored, eh? Too little vitamin B,” he joked, pointing both thumbs at his head and making a point of flexing his arms. It could have made him look like a jackass, had it not been paired with the goofiest, brightest grin.

You should have denied it, should have at least shrugged or made a sound of doubt, but all you could do was chuckle warmly as if he had you all laid out. “Slow days are the worst. You’re a welcome breath of life.”

Bokuto slipped a coin into the tip jar and fake coughed as if to cover up the sound, a habit he picked up despite the guaranteed glare it would bring from you. Sometimes he would make a joke of it like that, or yell what’s that! and pointing over your shoulder before you hear the telltale clink of the coin hitting the glass. Other times, he would keep eye contact, watching you observantly to see if you’d stop him. You knew there was no use, but the feeling of him challenging you to try made you even more flustered.

You shook your head and turned to the blender, whipping up a no-sugar smoothie for the athlete and taking deep breaths when he couldn’t see.

On his way out, after those students had taken their leave and you had mostly finished cleaning up, Bokuto left carrying the garbage bags. It was routine that he helped you with those when he could, knowing you didn’t like going into the alley.

Your pulse was still running a marathon by the time you left, and you held a hand to your chest, just below your collarbone, in an attempt to get a handle on it. As if you could grab your heart and squeeze it, tell it to quiet down lest Bokuto hears it call for him to come back.

Pining couldn’t even begin to describe this.

Bokuto was a regular at your cafe, and you felt like perhaps, just maybe, possibly, he was kind of, sort of flirting with you. Every time you were on your way to work lately, you’d mentally declare that today was the day you’d ask him if he was free sometime for a date. And then every time you saw him enter the cafe, your temperature would rise, and the idea would simply evaporate from your mind.

It was an endless cycle, but you couldn’t give up now! So on this particular day, when the sun was already shining from the second you stepped outside your door, you decided it was time. Your hair looked a little extra nice, and you had put on a cherry lip balm that gave your lips a slightly red tint. It felt bold. It felt dangerous. It felt right.

Until Bokuto came in, holding the hand of a little girl who looked so much like him that the smile was wiped straight off your face. That could be marked as the first time in history that Bokuto’s smile had lessened your mood.

Oh my gosh, was he a father this whole time? What if he has a partner?!

Despite your swirling thoughts, you gritted your teeth together and nodded in greeting. “Welcome in, what can I get you two?”

You had to admit, the girl was adorable. She had the chubbiest cheeks and still hadn’t stopped smiling. As she noticed you looking, she tucked her face into Bokuto’s pant leg and squealed. Bokuto easily lifted her up with an unnecessary groan, and the way he sat her on his hip looked so natural that you could swear your heart was slowly breaking.

“Well, I would like my usual,” Bokuto said while giving you a knowing gaze, as if the two of you had a secret code. You smiled kindly and put in his order like second nature. “And you, little owl?”

The girl tilted her head, looking at the overhead display, probably unable to read much of it yet. But she pointed at a strawberry drink you recently introduced for summer. “Bink.”

“You want the pink one?” you confirmed with her, and she nodded eagerly. “With cream?” She nodded eagerly. While you got started on the drinks, you bit harshly into your trembling lip, wondering where you went wrong, thinking this man had returned your affection.

It was a drowning thought, one that choked the air from your lungs like the deep ocean, until a familiar clink brought you back to the surface. Curiously, you turned your head to find Bokuto handing the girl another coin, glancing at you before telling her, “Here you go.”

She giggled, and you moved to the espresso machine so you could watch them while working. A chubby hand pointed at you, and you felt very alert.

“Look, there’s a pretty girl!” she yelled, making Bokuto look around wildly until his eyes found you. It was cheesy, so silly in a way only Bokuto could execute. He gasped, free hand covering his mouth, his eyes not leaving you for a second as the girl threw the coin at the glass. It hit the edge of the glass before falling in, leaving two clinks. Bokuto grinned at you with a hint of red in his cheeks, something sparkling in his eyes. Something that felt like a conversation you hadn’t had.

Bokuto turned back to her, ticking her sides and saying something about being so sneaky. Your heart felt warm watching him play along with her antics, but it was more like a fever warmth knowing he was probably someone else’s.

So as you handed off the drinks, you wiped your hands on your apron and glanced to see that no other customers were lined up yet. “I didn’t know you were a dad, she’s such a nice girl.” As you said that, you lifted the drink into her hands when Bokuto seemed to realise his hands were full. He hummed a thanks before his eyes widened comically.

Then the shock turned into humour, and every laugh came from his stomach to embrace the whole cafe. “Oh no, I’m not. Just a proud uncle.”

The relief that washed through you was just as overwhelming as the previous ocean, but so much nicer. It was probably visible, the way your smile finally seemed to fall into place more naturally. “That’s good,” you sighed, taking a couple of seconds to relish in that feeling before you realised what you practically admitted. “That you’re proud, I mean!”

Somehow, he looked like he was holding back from saying something, but as another customer opened the door and the familiar bell rang to signal their entrance, Bokuto and his niece kindly said their goodbyes.

Bokuto was at a loss. His friends kept saying that he couldn’t just ask you out right away, giving him all these tips instead of letting him jump right into it. While his huge crush on you was old news to the Black Jackals, the topic still came up at least once a week. Atsumu was the one who said he should play the uncle card, but you hadn’t thrown yourself at him like it was predicted.

“I’m telling you it isn’t working, Tsum-Tsum! I feel like I should just ask her out normally.”

Atsumu groaned. “You have no style, Bokkun. The longer you spend in the flirting stage, the longer the relationship lasts.”

Sakusa had to listen to this shit every week. Atsumu would give some stupid advice, Hinata would cheer Bokuto on, it wouldn’t work, and then the cycle would repeat. He was tired of it. “Bokuto,” he said. The sound of his unhappy voice finally pitching in made everyone else shut up. “You’re her customer, she won’t ask you out. Go back there, stop playing games and leaving her coins with hearts drawn on them, and ask her the fuck out the way you want to.” With that said, Sakusa finished tying his laces and picked up his bag, briskly exiting the conversation, but not without adding, “And stop listening to Atsumu, he has no game.”

Bokuto took a deep breath. This was it. He would follow his own instincts and just ask you out. From the first time he stopped by your coffee shop on his way to pick up Akaashi from the train station, he had been so enamoured.

When he stepped inside, the bell ringing over his head was so familiar that it felt encouraging, like this inanimate object had been impatiently waiting for him to ask you out.

He made sure to come at the end of your shift, so there would be fewer customers and he could still help you with the garbage, even if you rejected him. “My favourite,” his heart was pounding so loudly in his chest that he forgot to finish the greeting. “...y/n.

You blinked in confusion first before looking down at your hands, ears burning at him just calling you his favourite. “My favourite Bokuto!” you followed his lead, making him feel less weird. “The usual?”

He nodded with a small sound of agreement. “How was your day?”

You moved around to prepare his drink, not thinking much of how Bokuto kept tapping his finger impatiently on the counter. “It was okay, or it was kind of great for a while. This group of four older women came in and all ordered different pieces of cake with their coffees, and they spent hours talking about their lives and sharing the cakes. It was so wonderful to witness,” you recapped with awe, sounding so amazed that Bokuto could swear he fell in love.

Forget pining; his heart might never recover if you reject him at this point.

“That sounds amazing,” he agreed eagerly. “What cakes did they get?”

You glanced at him with a warm smile, the roses in your cheeks looking like they melted into your skin from loving kisses. Bokuto was thinking of kissing those cheeks, still tapping the counter impatiently and forgetting any sort of script he might have made up in his head beforehand.

While the ingredients were in the blender, you walked over to the glass display and pointed at the ones the women had earlier, Bokuto leaning down a bit to see which ones your pointed to. Theb, at the same moment, the two of you looked up, eyes meeting and sending you into a flustered silence.

Bokuto, on the other hand, couldn’t hold it in anymore. “We should have cake sometime. Together. Talk about our lives. And anything else.”

Deciding there was no need to hold back now, you jumped with happiness. “Yes, please, can we do that?!” you answered, making the last few customers turn around in their chairs to watch the exchange. You couldn’t care less.

While you finished making his drink with a giddy smile, the two of you discussed the details of this date. He even let you do the cleaning first, so he could bring the garbage with him. As the sun set and cast the cafe in an orange glow, he was on his way out when something kind of Sakusa-shaped itched in his mind. That was terrifying in itself, but he remembered the words ask her the fuck out the way you want to. He turned back to you, making you straighten up immediately in curiosity. If he caught you silently celebrating, he didn’t mention it. “By the way, I really like you. Like really really like you.”

The best way to do things is to be yourself.

masterlist

thank you @cottonlemonade for helping getting me through<3

[szatears]

had her first, stack.

summary: is it really cheating if he had you first?

pairing: ex boyfriend!stack x blackfem!reader

warnings: cheating kinda? (on reader's part), it's a little long, angst, some mary hate, p in v, oral (fem receiving), heavy making out, descriptions of reader, use of n word, not proofread.

notes: this came to me in a dream i had during a nap LMAOOOO. also i hate using y/n i don't know why but i audibly groaned when i realised i had to 😖 what do we think of a part two?

It wasn't by choice that you ended up in the opening night of the juke joint. Your cousin Shirley, ever the music enjoyer, caught word of someone throwing a party to open up their juke joint, and as she usually did, she dragged you along with her.

Not that you would've said no if she asked, you knew when to appreciate good music too. If only you asked whose juke joint it was. Maybe then you would've prepared yourself a little more.

Shirley came by your mama's house to pick you up, the two of you walking the short distance to another friend's to hitch a ride with them.

You were ready by the time she arrived, your curls out of their usual bun, defined neatly thanks to your mama's hand. You chose something simple, not having enough time to be fussy about what to wear.

It wasn't a new dress, you'd had it for some time but rarely wore it. It was a deep green, almost emerald colour. Held together by spaghetti straps over your shoulders, the v-line at its front brought all attention to the dainty gold locket that hung from your neck. The dress, made finely from silk, reached your ankles, kitten heels also in emerald on show. It fit you perfectly, hugging your figure in every right place.

A thin shawl accompanied you with the dress, lazily hung over your shoulders to shield you from the breeze that would follow with the night, but also from any unwanted stares. You knew a certain someone would have something to say. That was, if he knew where you were off to.

When asked, you never said you were officially married, nor did you say you were spoken for. You usually left it at "I'm in a good place with someone right now." Because that's all he was at the moment. A good place. His name was Jeremiah, you met a few months back.

He hadn't made any attempt to show you he wanted to marry you, so you played as if that was the case. Though you wouldn't entertain anyone else, and neither would he. So in a way, he was kinda it for you.

Sure, you had your fair share of fun with him, but he couldn't ruin you if anything were to go south. Not when you already were, unbeknownst to everyone else except him.

"You gon' stare at yourself in the mirror all day, or...?" Shirley nudged you as you stepped out of the car, fiddling with the pocket mirror in your hand. You looked up at your surroundings, noticing the juke joint and the cars around it, then back at Shirley, a smile tugging at your lips.

"You know better than anyone what looks mean to a lady."

"Mhm. You sure it ain't 'cause you're seeing Stack again?" She smirked, taking your hand in hers as you walked towards the doors.

"You─── what?!" You stopped in your tracks, someone bumping into you as you did. Shirley widened her eyes a little, apologising for you. "Shir, what did you just say?"

"Girl, I been told you. This here's Smoke and Stack's juke joint. Looks like Chicago finally blew 'em back to what they know."

Your breath hitched as you fumbled at the thin shawl around you. "No, you did not tell me, otherwise I wouldn't have come." You didn't mean to snap at her, but of all people, Shirley knew what the twins, what Stack meant for you.

She sighed, turning to you. Smoothing your flyaway baby hairs with the tip of her fingers, she spoke gently. "I know you and Stack ain't leave it on good terms, but that was ages ago. You've moved on, right? Don't let him ruin your night, yeah?"

You sighed, nodding your head despite thinking something completely different. But there was no going back now. At least you were promised good food and music.

Stepping towards the door, you recognised Cornbread letting people in. He did a double take when he glanced at you, shouting your name out loud. "You ain't so lil' no more, though, my God! How you been?"

"Nice to see you too, Cornbread. God," Shirley rolled her eyes. The two of you grew up together, close since knee height, so everyone who knew you, knew Shirley too.

"Shut up, Shirley. I know it was you who took my dice at that last game," He bucked at her, referring to the last time the both of you saw him over at a gathering in town, years ago. "Anyways, y'all ladies have a good night, you hear?"

He let you both in, and immediately you were hit by the sound of the piano wavering through the joint, bodies dancing and mingling all over, the sweet smell of liquor that longed for you... You had to admit, it looked great.

"Here, let's get us something to drink," Shirley walked to both of you towards were the drinks were being served.

"What can I get you fine ladies... Y/N? Whatchu doin' here?" Annie's face lit up when she saw you, reaching over the counter to give you and Shirley brief hugs.

"I could ask you the same thing! This one here dragged me along with her," you budged Shirley, a bright smile on your face upon seeing Annie. It seemed not so long ago was the last time you saw her, but really it was years. Probably around the same time you last saw the twins.

"Girl, don't act like you weren't jumping at the chance to come with," Shirley laughed, handing Annie a dollar. "We'll take 2 corn liquors please, Miss Annie."

"We damn near the same age, calling me Miss Annie," she kissed her teeth, pocketing the money before pouring the drinks. "You seen 'em yet?" she asked, directed more at you. You took a sip from the small glass, shaking your head 'no' after.

Annie nodded slowly. She knew all that happened between you and Stack. Like you did with her and Smoke. The beginning to now.

Shirley finished her glass, handing it back to Annie before standing up from her seat. "Look, there's Pearline! You wanna go dance, or you're good here?"

"No, I'm alright here. I'll join you later though," you waved her off with a kiss to her cheek, choosing to sit with Annie for a bit longer.

The two of you spoke and spoke as she served customers, and yourself, about everything the last 7 years had done for you both.

You could see Annie's eyes wander off to something behind you as you spoke, and you, in your 'three corn liquors in' state, turned around to see what it was. More like who, it was.

Smoke took a drag from the lit cigarette in his mouth, his head slightly tilting to the side when his gaze settled on you. He was surprised, you could gather that much through his stoic expression. Never was one to give away much.

Tearing away from you, he nodded at Annie. "How's it going? Good?"

She blinked, before nodding. "Nothing wrong so far."

He nodded, turning back to you, taking another drag from the cigarette. "Good to see you, Y/N." He bent down to your seated height to give you a small kiss on the cheek, cigarette smoke still lingering around him. Smoke was respectful towards you most of the times, when he acknowledged you, mainly because Annie had a few words with him about his approach to some people.

"You too," you mumbled, fingers drumming the wooden table in front of you. You liked Smoke, even if most times you couldn't tell if he liked, hell even tolerated, you.

"You seen Stack yet?" He asked. When you shook your head, he only gave you a curt not, walking away as quickly as he did.

"Well he ain't changed one bit," you blew out a breath.

Annie laughed, wiping down a table.

─── ༉‧₊˚✧ ───

The joint was packed to the brim, fellas laughing whilst they rolled dice and racked up dollars, ladies dancing with their girls or men as the blues rang throughout the crowd. It was amazing, you had to admit.

You were leaning against a pillar, observing from behind the scenes as you tended to always do at events like these. You watched on as Shirley danced with a random man, occasionally looking over at you with a wink.

You shook your head with a smile, fiddling with the material of your shawl. You desperately wanted to leave it somewhere, but you knew you probably wouldn't end up getting it back.

Sighing, you began to make your way towards the stage so you could hear the words to the songs better, before bumping into someone.

It was a small bump but my, did it almost send you going backwards. It could only be a man with a chest that hard, and you couldn't control your facial expressions, a mean ass mug made its way to your face before you knew it.

"Sorry 'bout that, you good?"

You knew that voice anywhere. That bass, that drawl... From anywhere. Your head snapped up to his, the scowl still present.

You saw the realisation and surprise fill in his features slowly. Stack was lost for words, for once. He brought a hand to his mouth, removing the toothpick. "Hey..." he said, barely above a whisper. "Whatchu doin' here?"

Seven years and that was all he had? The scoff that left your lips was deserved at that point. "Excuse me," you waved past him, shaking a little at the fact that you just saw the man that left you in absolute pieces, acting like none of that even happened albeit he saw you for all of ten seconds.

"Y/N, hollon," you heard him say but didn't stop moving through bodies, desperate to get as far away from him as you could.

Just as you were about to round the corner to the edge of the stage, his hand caught your arm, pulling you back into what looked like a corridor.

"Elias, get off of me," you gritted, fighting the physical hold he had on you. He couldn't lie, hearing his name roll off of your tongue after all this time had him feeling giddy, but he ignored you as he opened up the door to one of the rooms in the corridor, pushing you inside.

"You hard of hearing? Let me out, I'm not playing." You attempted to push past him, but he stood planted, blocking the door.

"I'm not playin' either. I just wanna talk."

"You had seven years, why now? Hm?"

He deserved that, and so much more. He nodded his head, bringing a hand to his chin, stroking his goatee. When he took a step closer, you took one back, determined to keep this distance between you and him.

"Look," he sighed, trying to catch your gaze but you looked anywhere but at him. "I know I should've said something, could've wrote to you or whatever. But I had to protect you."

"Protect me?" You scoffed. "I ain't need your protection, what I needed was your love. Hell, you couldn't even give me that most times."

Stack didn't allow himself to be upset over your use of love in the past tense. "I did love you, I still do."

"Yeah? You tellin' ole girl the same thing too? What's her name again... Mary wasn't it?"

Stack kissed his teeth at the mention of Mary, the other woman who just couldn't let him go. He'd told you time and time again that she meant nothing to him, that it was just you, yet she still managed to be in the frame.

"Mary ain't shit to me, I tell you that all the time. And I mean it."

"You lie so much, I don't even know what the truth sounds like coming from you," you mumbled, walking away from him to sit on the unoccupied table. If you were going to have a conversation with this man against your will, you at least wanted to be comfy.

"I ain't mean to lie baby, it's the only way I can leave you out of all this mess." He walked towards you, hands in his pockets. "I missed you."

"A little too late for that. You don't miss Mary?" you tilted your head to the size, revelling in the way he rolled his eyes.

"How many times i gotta tell you I'on care about her?"

"As many times as it takes to convince yourself."

"Fine, I'on care about her. There." He stared at you, watching your reaction. When he saw the faintest twitch in your lip, he smiled, knowing he was getting to you.

He took another step closer to you, now stood between your legs. You let him part your legs, like he had done so many times before, his hands gently moving your thighs. He didn't let go of them when he stood in between them, just ran his hands slowly up and down them.

"I'm sorry," he looked right into your eyes as he spoke. "I was gonna come looking for you today, but i figured you wouldn't wanna see me. But when I saw you today... I had to speak to you."

"Elias..." you sighed. "You can't just come back here after leaving me like that all those years ago, acting like everything's okay. You don't know how much you hurt me."

"I do know baby, 'course I do. It hurt me too."

"Not as much as it did me. You ain't the one who had to pick up the pieces of me after you left, Shirley did that. All cause you weren't there and still won't tell me why."

He sighed, stilling his hands on your thigh to lift your chin up.

"I'm here now, and I ain't goin' nowhere. I'm not leaving you again, i promise."

"Your promises don't mean shit to me anymore, Elias. You can't just sorry your way back into my life. I'm not as easy as you used to think I was."

"And why's that, hm? Some to do with that so called man you call yourself having? What's his face, Jeziah, was it?"

"Fuck you, Elias." you pushed him away from you, getting down from the table. Before you could leave again, he grabbed your arm, pulling you into his chest. His arms caged you in, firm and secure in his hold.

"If that's the typa timing you on, we can do that. But I'm not letting you leave til you hear me out."

"I have heard you out. I don't wanna hear no more," you shook your head.

His fingers stroked the material of your dress around your waist, it was taking everything in him to not pull it off of your right there. "Nah, you didn't. Look at me."

He tilted your head up towards his. "I love you. Only you, you're it for me. What I did... I know it was wrong and trust me I wanted to come back to you so bad, baby. But I had to do it, for both of us. What kinda man I'd be if i didn't provide for my woman?"

The fluttering feeling at your stomach only intensified when he called you his woman, taking you back all those years ago.

"You left me without saying a word, Elias," you whispered, voice breaking as a tear ran down your face. Elias hushed you, wiping the tear away, both his hands cupping your face.

"And I will spend the next forty or however many years saying sorry. I mean that." He kissed your forehead, both of you closing your eyes in that moment.

You shivered when his lips left your skin, your palms resting flat against his chest. He pulled back from the embrace just a little, looking at you as he spoke.

"You gon' let me come back?"

He was serious, about it all you could see now. You didn't reply, just brought your hand to the back of his head, pulling him towards you. When your lips met, you swore your legs would've buckled if he wasn't holding you so tight.

Your shawl dropped to the floor as you kissed him, his lips meshing with your so perfectly it was like the last seven years didn't even happen.

Jeremiah was the last thing on your mind in that moment, you could only focus on Stack's tongue wrestling with yours. You let out a moan when his hands trailed to your ass, squeezing as you made out.

He was first to pull away, wasting no time in kissing down your neck to your collarbone, leaving little bites that were sure to bruise sooner or later. And you let him, throwing your head back against his other shoulder, letting him do his work.

It wasn't until he started to walk you backwards, when your legs hit the edge of the table, that you realised what you both were about to do.

"Wait, E, hold on..." your put your arm between him and you, his eyes snapping to your face.

"What's wrong?"

A lot was wrong in that moment, you knew it.

"If I let you do this, you bet not mess up again," you spoke seriously. He nodded, starving for a taste as he bunched your dress up at your hips.

"I told you baby, I'm not goin' nowhere, not away from you again that's for sure."

He kissed your lips, undoing the buttons to both his waistcoat and dress shirt, leaving him shirtless in all his glory. Your hands raked down his toned front, pulling him back onto you.

As he kissed you tenderly, Stack's fingers slipped into your panties, being met by your wetness, allowing him to easily slip into you. He groaned at the same time you did, your head thrown back as he nudged you to lie down on the table.

"He get you this wet, hm?" He didn't need you to answer, he already knew what it would be. It would be nice to hear it though.

You shook your head. "Fuck, Elias, just do it already," you whined, having had enough of his fingers teasing your clit.

"Aight be patient, I gotta make sure she remembers me," he smiled.

You were about to say something slick, before you remembered just how slick Stack could get. Besides, he already began to take your panties off, pocketing them in his trousers.

He lowered his head to your clit, kissing it gently. Your hand immediately went to the back of his head, lips falling apart as he licked a bold stripe up your pussy.

"Fuck, I missed it here," he mumbled into you, the vibrations driving you crazy. It's not like it had been ages since you were last pleasured, but it had been ages since you were last pleasured by Stack. He had such a way with you, a way that no one else did.

He continued to lick slowly, so agonisingly slow at you, and it wasn't until you squeezed his head with your thighs that he finally gave in. After all, he did have loads of making up to do.

His hands came to your hips, holding you just like he wanted. Taking your clit in his mouth, he looked at you as he sucked, his tongue swirling around it. You couldn't hold eye contact, not when he was looking at you like that, your juices coated around his mouth.

"Oh, my God," you whispered, writhing underneath him as he picked up the pace.

"Why you so quiet? He done turned you shy, huh?" he smirked when he noticed your state.

"Stop talking about him," you groaned, feeling your body jerk as he worked you out, tongue lapping you for all your worth. "Fuck, I'm gonna─── Oh, shit!" You came before you knew it, only Stack could work you like that.

He kept on eating you out through your orgasm, letting you ride out your high on his face. "Just like that baby, give it to me," he encouraged you.

You had no more to give, at least not in that moment. He let go of your hips, only briefly as he sat up. You caught the sight of his glistening face, his tongue darting out of his mouth to lick his lips.

"Come here," you mumbled opening your arms for him as you sat up. He pulled you towards the end of the table, meeting your lips halfway. The taste of yourself on him drove you insane, the kiss just downright nasty.

Stack fumbled at his belt, undoing it before he dropped his trousers down as you kissed the side of his neck, your hand wrapped around his throat as he took his dick out of his pants.

He saw the way your eyes glistened at the sight of him, smirking as he unzipped your dress. Stepping out of it, the pair of you were fully naked, nothing new between you both.

"I missed you," you mumbled, a tired smile on your face and he hadn't even fucked you yet.

"Yeah? You missed me or you missed my dick?"

"Ain't it a part of you? It's the same damn thing," you rolled your eyes as your hands caressed his broad shoulders, kissing them.

Stack slid into you with a groan, hooking your legs around his hips as he slowly pushed in, getting accustomed to be inside you again. he wanted to savour this moment forever, your face scrunched up, mouth falling open as you let out such sultry sounds.

He waited for a moment before he started to thrust in and out of you, biting his lips to hold in his own groans. He let go of one side of your hip, bringing that hand to cup at your breasts, squeezing as his thrusts hit you in the right spots.

"Don't you go quiet on me now," your hand wrapped around his throat, pulling his face closer to yours. Stack's brows furrowed at your sudden boldness, but you could tell you already affected him given the way his thrusts stilled for a minute.

"Shit, baby, whatchu doin'?" he groaned, his forehead resting against your as he dug you out. "Fuck, you feel so good, mama. S'like I was never gone."

He regained his composure, swatting your hand away from his throat and instead grabbing yours, not too harsh, just the way you liked it. The sound of skin clapping was the only thing heard in the room, save for your moans that not even your hand could suppress. Thank God this was a juke joint.

"Elias, shittttt..." you shut your eyes tight, the familiar feeling of your orgasm approaching threatening to overwhelm you.

"Hold it," he grunted, speeding up his thrusts. He couldn't be serious, surely.

"Fuck, baby, I can't" you whined, nails scratching along his back as you tried to hold in your release.

"You can, just a lil' bit longer, mama." He sweet talked you, kissing your cheek as he neared his own orgasm. His hand left your neck back to your breasts, rubbing over your hardened nipples. It was too much, the way he was doing you.

"I can't─── shit baby I can't hold it," you whimpered, begging him to let you cum.

"Aight baby, give it to me," was all he said and you let go, a wave of pleasure blanketing you as you came, gushing all over his lower body. Stack fucked you through your orgasm as he came too with a low moan, pushing his seed in and out of you as he slowed down.

"Shit," he sighed out, looking down at the mess you both made. He slowly pulled out of you, kissing your lips as he used his dick to push his cum back in you. He was still the same nasty man you knew.

"I think fat ma missed me," he joked, laughing when you hit his chest. "C'mon, 'fore Smoke think I'm dead."

He helped you get dressed, conveniently finding and unused towel to wipe you both down. You dress now back on, you fixed your hair as best as you could.

Stack put everything of his back on too, tilting his head to the side when he caught you looking at him expectantly, "Yeah?"

"My panties, Elias."

"Nah, I'ma hold onto 'em fore you. C'mon," you rolled your eyes as he opened the door for you, being met with the sound of music yet again. You walked out before him, taking a deep breath and trying to act like that didn't just happen. You saw Shirley, walking towards her.

Before Stack could catch up wit you, Bo caught his arm, looking between the two of you with a smirk on his face.

"Ain't no goddamn way," he laughed. "You know she's in it with that lawyer guy up in Delta, right?"

"So? I had her first."

taglist. @childishgambinaax @abriefnirvana @blackisy2k @chrisevansmentee @siasoup @amethyst09 @heauxtales @skywalker0809 @thelightknight21 @klssngss @atomicearthquakemusic7 @oc3anbxbyxoxo @honestlyurslol @simpingfor-wakasa @omg-mymelaninisbeautiful @favoritten @christinabae @junkie05

[prodagustd]

Can we get a drabble of what happens at the bbq?

✧ this is a drabble of the road not taken, set during summer before chapter one.

—pairing: lawyer!yoongi x actress!reader

—rating: none

—genre: brother's best friend, one sided pinning (or both?), slow burn

—warnings/tags: maybe a bit of jealous yoongi?

—series: the road not taken

—words: 886

—a/note: hii this is short but i had fun writing it, thank you for requesting it!!! btw this is a bit unedited ... as always...

Four years ago

Yoongi wiped the sweat from his forehead and turned to see you at the edge of the pool, trying to dodge Fred’s attempts to throw you back in.

Your hair was damp and wavy, your cheeks were slightly rosy from the sun and your bikini was still glistening from the pool. The tiny strawberry pattern made his stomach turn. 

Suddenly, he understood why your brother didn’t want you around with his friends. 

He snapped his fingers at you, trying to get your attention. Fred was his friend, sure—but he didn’t need to watch him trying to get his hands on you. And he definitely didn’t want to hear you laugh unless it was at something he said.

Yes, that was an actual thought that crossed his mind. He’d been having all kinds of confusing thoughts since he came back this summer, and the weird dream he had about you during that ten-minute nap under the sun this morning hadn’t helped clear his head at all. 

This had been going on for the past hour. It wasn’t just Fred—it was also Mike, and of course, it was him too. All three of them trying to get your attention like you were a completely different person, like you weren’t Simon’s sister anymore.

He’d be lying if he said it didn’t bother him. He was used to having your attention without even trying—now he had to fight for it like he was just another guy trying to make you laugh.

The feeling dissipated a little when your eyes found his. He motioned for you to come back to the grill. “What are you doing?” he scolded you, “You said you were helping me.”

You didn't hesitate to run back to him, leaving Fred hanging.

“Grumpy,” you murmured, grabbing your shirt from the lounge chair and tugging it on again.

“Hand me the tongs,” Yoongi said, not looking at you.

You leaned against the side table, where bottles of sauce and a pack of sliced onions sat waiting. “Say please.”

He glanced at you, squinting against the sun. “I’m holding raw meat. Do you really want to do this right now?”

“Desperately,” you said, but handed him the tongs anyway, your fingers brushing for a second too long. He didn’t comment on it, but his grip faltered slightly.

He was grateful that you put that damn tshirt on again. 

Turning back to the grill, he pressed his lips into a thin line. He felt like he had a fever. Maybe it was the sun, maybe it was that stupid dream he’d had. He shook his head, trying to push it away, but every time he tried to forget it, it came back worse.

It hadn’t been a full dream, more like the kind of images that came slowly when he was on the edge of sleep, soft and in waves. It was just you, looking at him as he lay on the lounge chair. You were on your knees, and just when he was sure he was awake, you kissed the tip of his nose.

Even his mind was betraying him.

“You’re burning those,” you said, snapping him out of his thoughts.

He turned around the sausages, realizing you were right. “That’s because someone got distracted and abandoned me.” He defended himself.

You tossed an onion ring onto the grill. “Please. You can handle a couple sausages on your own.”

He didn’t respond—just poked at the grill, a little too forcefully.

You tilted your head, watching him. “What’s with the face?”

“No face,” he said quickly.

“Uh-huh.” You nudged his elbow with yours. “Is this because I left you for Fred?”

He let out a small sound, more breath than laugh, close to a sigh. 

“Don’t worry,” you added, tone light. “You’re still my favorite.”

Yoongi’s grip tightened around the tongs.

There was no reason for that to hit the way it did. It was just words. Tossed out like nothing. But they hooked under his skin anyway.

He didn’t look at you right away. He kept his eyes on the meat, even if his mind had already gone somewhere else.

“Favorite?” he repeated, tone even. “Didn’t realize we were being ranked.”

You laughed, leaning your hip against the table. “Don’t act like you don’t know.”

He shook his head, biting back a smile “What’s earning me that spot, anyway?” he asked, voice light as he pretended it didn’t phase him.

He glanced at you, and maybe he should’ve looked away quicker. You were close enough that he could smell the chlorine and sunscreen clinging to your skin.

You tapped your fingers against the table absently. “It’s a secret system, I can’t tell you.”

Yoongi scoffed, flipping one of the ribs and forcing his focus back. “Seems biased.”

“I’m wildly biased,” you said. “But it’s working in your favor, so shut up.”

He laughed under his breath, shaking his head. “You’re lucky I like you.”

You turned just enough to glance at him. “Yeah?” you said, casual, too casual.

He didn’t answer, he didn't know how to. That was the thing, it was too dangerous to put it into words, so he pushed it down. But in the back of his mind the thought was impossible to erase, that dream he had was impossible to chase away. He was doomed. 

[bluejayybird]

Inspired by an Anya & Daisuke piece by @infohazardouz , go check it out 🫵✨

Thinking about an alternate universe where Anya and Daisuke go to college together

Anya's back for her ninth round of medical education after taking more time to study since the Tulpar returned to earth, Daisuke pursuing art despite his mother's insistence that it's a dead end career (his father doesn't mind, as long as Daisuke's happy and making relatively good decisions) (Daisuke's Cool Dad is a hill I will die on, he gave Daisuke that Hawaiian shirt, he told me so-)

Having kept in touch after the trip, they figure out they're going to the same campus and scramble to see if they can share a dorm- if they couldn't, they'd try to save for an apartment, or Daisuke would butter up his parents to see if they'd cover it as long as he's in school

Notes, books and drawings strewn across their living space, organized chaos; Daisuke would help Anya study medical terms and procedures- they'd both get queasy about some of the subjects, but power through together. Anya would help Daisuke with his art block, giving him references and inspiration for assignments

Swansea sends each of them new sneakers and other school necessities, and Curly calls to check in once or twice a week; they have monthly potlucks and movie nights, tossing popcorn at each other and usually ignoring the film entirely in favor of the company

Swansea swears he's not crying as he watches them walk the stage at their graduation, then immediately runs up the isle and lifts Daisuke in a spinning hug, all of them misty eyed and laughing during pictures

Anya starts an internship at a local doctor's office as an assistant nurse, and Daisuke takes commissions, paints public murals, and posts popular art memes online

They're both happy, finally starting to feel like they've found their purpose; they adopt two cats (a maine coon and a ragdoll kitten named Elodie and Hibiscus, respectively) and keep their apartment once they both start making their own money, walls covered in old mementos, Daisuke's art, and inspirational posters, diplomas framed and hanging above the TV in their living room

[justworthlessreblogs]

do you have any guinea pigs? can you share pictures? 🥹

i have three! well, technically only one of them is mine but there's three of them total. and i am extremely willing to share photos

first up is mabel! she's my pig. her name was supposed to be maple (a name i'd been sitting on since eighth grade) but my dad misheard it as "mabel" when i mentioned it to him and i was rewatching gravity falls at the time we got her so it made me reconsider. she's much more of a mabel anyways. she's pulling on the blanket in this photo because she got grumpy that we stopped petting her for one (1) millisecond. she's very bossy and i love her for that

next up is smores! she's my sister's. she looks very docile in this photo but she's by far the chattiest pig we've ever had. she's also the most active, she likes to scurry around a lot

and finally we have princess snickers (snickers for short). she's my mom's. you can't see it well but she has a single rosette on her head that made us think of a crown, hence the name. she's a very chill pig for the most part but as soon as it's feeding time she goes wild (as seen in this photo). she's a funny little guy

[spaghett-onaplate]

I need to be up awake in 2 and a half hours buuuut I'm still awake. Now accepted defeat and on tumblr. Oopsie

[everwalldigan]

To anyone who thinks Bruce has a clear and consistent favourite child I raise you this: it is infinitely funnier for Bruce to have a complicated and elaborate “ranking” system of his kids that only he’s privy to.

Picture this: Batman, dosed with truth serum, gets asked as a gag from one of the goons holding him captive who his favourite bat-vigilante is and instead of giving a straight answer, he launches into this whole explanation about the ranking system and who’s in the current lead, who’s hanging behind, etc. At some point (this is a mystery to everyone involved) a whiteboard appears and he starts explaining his system like he’s a football coach before an important match. Out of nowhere he starts pulling out little cardboard cutouts of his kids and pins them to the board. At some point the red string comes out.

Jason hasn’t killed someone in a week? Automatically promoted to favourite. Tim hasn’t caused an international incident in the past month? Puts him a few points ahead that keep decreasing the longer he refuses real sleep (20 minute power naps don’t count Tim! Says powernap inventor Bruce Wayne). Cass gave him a hug this morning and wished him a good day? Favourite until he gets a call from dick telling him (without shouting!!!!) that he’ll be there for this week’s Sunday dinner. Duke accidentally scratches the Batmobile? Demoted to the “in trouble” zone (which, honestly, that’s where his kids spend most of the time in😭). Damian did not attempt to free all the animals in the zoo they visited? Favourite. Until Bruce found out he was just trying to conceal the cat hidden in his room that Bruce explicitly forbade him from keeping.

Dick arrives at the family dinner with a busted shoulder and a bruise the size of Texas on his face? Gets demoted so far down that even azraeil scores higher than him. He’s in the “in trouble” zone for a constant month after that. Oh one of them survived an almost death? Favourite for at least the next week. At least. Multiple people survive an almost death? EVERYONES the favourite. The least favourite is the growing grey hairs on his head.

The end of day results are decided by who bothers to wish him goodnight and if all of them have fucked up in some way the past week then Jon (Kent) becomes the automatic favourite until someone cracks a joke that Bruce actually finds funny.

The favourite child changes daily, hourly even, and his kids are aware this system exists and keep trying to crack the code but he always Knows and just smirks smugly.

[flightless-peinguin]

Danny finds a new nap spot. Natives are worried.

Ever since Danny became a Halfa, his house hasn't been the safest place to rest at. Its filled with his parents experiments and automatic weaponry and hasn't felt like home for a while. He feels bad having to sleep at Tucker's place and Sam's parents don't really like him but he needs to rest somewhere.

Cue the Ocean 0.0

He hasn't needed to breathe in a long time and having a secondary source of energy for his core would lessen the amount of food he needed to eat.

It's massive and mysterious and he can explore it until his core is satisfied. The sun makes such nice warm spots perfect for naping and with Clockworks help he can make it there in almost no time.

With his parents spending most of the evening and night in their lab or outside the house, he can spend most of his night sleeping there and with a semi-regular sleep schedule at that.

No one even notices hes gone.

The Atlantians sure know hes there though.

Granted they don't notice he's there at first. He finds the perfect space to sleep and doesn't move until its time to go to the surface, but when they notice. They Notice .

Brave researchers acompanied by soldiers try to collect samples of hair and scale and maybe even blood but come up with little to nothing. While they can touch the being, any attempt to remove anything leads to it slipping through their fingers like the water that surounds them.

The only good thing is that the creature seems to be peaceful, only sleeping and then leaving. (where he leaves to, no one knows. They aren't sure they even want to know)

[meowdei]

“Muah,” you beam, pressing a soft peck into Sylus’s cheek. “Muah!”

Another. And another. And another scattered little kiss along the skin of his face as he sits with you situated comfortably on his lap, hands tracing up and down your hips. It’s late—somewhere close to the sun’s routine time to rise, and somewhere close to Sylus’s routine time to fall asleep. He’s a lot easier to bend to your whims like this, when he’s tired and limp under you and lets you have your way.

He hums, curling his lips into an sleepy smile as he murmurs, “you missed a spot.”

“You don’t get to get picky when you get free affection,” you say instantly.

His smile drops. Something of a grouchy scowl (that’s more like a pout, if you’re being honest) drapes along his lips and forces them into that downward curl. Your lips do the exact opposite, curling up at the sight of his dissatisfaction.

“Well, sweetie,” he drawls, “who knew you could be so stingy?”

“I’m not being stingy,” you grin, purposely missing his lips as you press your next kiss, landing it right over his Cupid’s bow and watching as his eyes flash impatiently. “I’m teaching you a valuable lesson.”

“Which is?”

“We don’t always get what we want.”

“Funny,” Sylus quirks a brow, that awful, terrible, nightmarish and dangerous smug look returning to his features as his eyes narrow, “because I always get what I want. It’s as simple as taking it.

The room is spinning and shifting and tilting on its axis as you feel everything move in a blur—one second you’re on top of him, sat on his lap, and the next second he’s hovering over you, melting your body into the mattress like it could swallow you whole under his weight.

“Sylus!” You screech, earning a low chuckle from him, “get off of me you brute!”

“Not until you give me what I want.”

“No!”

“Then I’m not moving.”

And true to his word, he settles himself on top of you, promptly pressing all his body weight over yours as his drapes his figure on top of you. He’s heavy—in a pleasant sort of way. He feels like comfort and home and warmth pressing into you and crushing your bones with nothing more than body mass and willpower. You like it. And as if on cue, your hand instinctively finds the back of his head to smooth through his hair.

Sometimes your body just does that. Admits he’s what you want and what you need against its will. Admits it likes him there and welcomes him like your souls are two halves of a whole—one involuntary muscle responding to him at a time.

“You’re heavy,” you whine.

“This could all be solved rather simply if you’d just give me a proper kiss, sweetheart. But you insist on hissing like a stray kitten in an alleyway.”

“And it’s just too easy to ruffle your feathers,” you giggle, rubbing a hand along the nape of his neck and feeling him shiver under your touch, “who knew a kiss could have you so worked up?”

“I’m not worked up,” he grumbles quietly. You smile wider. He pinches your hips in warning without even looking at you.

“Spoiled,” you murmur, “that’s what you are.”

“Spoiled is what you are with how you swipe my card,” he retorts, earning a glare from you. His eyes are half lidded—heavy, and tired, and slowly closing shut against his will as he stifles a yawn, giving you a poor attempt at a smirk.

“No kisses for you forever.”

“I think that’ll cause you more distress than me in the long run.”

“Don’t you ever get tired of talking?” You huff exhaustedly.

“I’ll stop talking long enough for a quick nap if you give me a proper kiss,” he negotiates. Like the proper, opportunistic business man that he is. So good at playing his cards right and getting the deal he wants so badly, just enough that he always walks away with the better end of the stick.

Sly, you’d call it.

Persuasive, he’d correct.

And you’re convinced. Persuaded and swayed into his trap because all he has to do is give you those sweet, tired little blinks of his eyes and that hopeful little look as he stares at your lips before you cave and fold like a piece of paper into his awaiting palms.

“You’ll finally sleep and leave me alone if I give you a kiss?” You pretend to bargain.

He nods earnestly, “oh yes, sweetie. I’ll be out like a light faster than you can call Mephisto over to be witness of our deal.”

“Okay,” you roll your eyes. “One kiss.”

“So stingy,” he chuckles.

“I’m not—”

He kisses you. Props his head up, still blanketing you with all his weight as he kisses you softly. Like he means it. Lips carving out lips like he’s mean to mold your flesh to fit the shape of his. You gasp, and he lets out a soft sigh into your mouth, closing his eyes and pressing into you as much as he can.

When your hands twist into his hair, he lets out a soft groan, slumping more weight into you (if that’s even possible) before his breathing gets shallower.

When he finally pulls away, his head tucks itself back into your neck as he mumbles, “told you I’d get what I want.”

It comes out like a soft slur. Your eyes widen instantly.

“Sylus, no—I have to get up for the day so don’t even think about—”

He’s asleep. Heavy, limp, and comfortably on top of you. You try a sad, futile attempt to shove him off, but he’s stuck. Glued to you like his life depends on it. (Sometimes it does, you think. Sometimes it feels like he lives only for you. Only knows how to breathe when he’s sure you’re there to listen to his soft breaths.)

“You asshole,” you mutter, “you spoiled, obnoxious asshole.”

He always gets what he wants—the feeling of your delicate body under his, and the nails that trace his scalp softly in defeat are good enough proof of that.

Early bday drabble. Long fic to come. Stay tuned. This is a sylus only blog. I don’t even like mydei even a little bit. What else? I think I’ve covered all my bases

[kissandtellus]

LADS : ‘Current Boyfriend’ Prank

ᯓ Synopsis: How would the LADS boys react to you pulling the TikTok Video ‘With my Current Boyfriend’ Prank!

ᯓ Caleb

You set up the camera at the perfect angle, making sure to get Caleb’s massive frame into the shot. You take a few steps back and give a twirl of your dress.

“Hey everyone! I’m doing a ‘OOTD’ with my current boyfriend, Caleb!”

Caleb’s goofy smirk falters, and you swear you see his eye twitch.

“Current, Pipsqueak?” He grabs your arm, pulling you back away from the camera, his hand cups your jaw ever so slightly, even as the camera continues to roll. “Nah, you better change that tone baby. What was that?”

You cheeks are squished between his forefinger and thumb.

“M-my boyfwend fowever.”

“Thats right, Pip. Good girl.”

ᯓ Rafayel

Rafayel always finds these trends annoying. He immediately knows something is up by the way you are already giggling to yourself. You set the phone on the tripod and take a few steps back.

“So today, I am going to be asking my boyfriend a series of questions about myself-“ you break off into light laughter, struggling to finish your sentence as you catch the upmost SASSIEST look from Rafayel in the corner.

“Current? Is there one after me, Cutie? Perhaps I should let them go ahead and have their turn.” His lower lip is jutting in a pout, even as you try to pull him back in to finish the video. Rafayel dramatically recites old tales of doomed lovers, and how if you were to leave him he would throw himself into the deepest edge of the sea.

You are busy the rest of the day trying to repair Rafayel’s wounded pride.

ᯓ XAVIER

Xavier is rubbing the sleep from his eyes after waking up from a nap. You had promised him a delicious smoothie, if you could record it.

You stand by the blender and prop your phone. “Hey everyone! I am here with my current boyfriend Xavier! I am go- Xavier? Wait, no-“

You are barely able to wrestle back your phone before he snatches it and throws it into the blender, his finger dancing over the ‘blend’ button.

His sharp blue eyes burn into you.

“Current? My shining star, what have I done to deserve such a mediocre attempt at a joke.”

“It’s a trend, Xavier!”

“I am going to start revoking your phone time.”

ᯓ Zayne

Zayne looks over the rim of his glasses as you prop your phone up on his desk. You sit on his knee which he gladly welcome. He gazes up at you like you out the stars in the sky.

You hit record and wrap your arms around his neck. “Hey everyone, today I’m going to ask my current boyfriend, who’s a surgeon, about what the-“

Zayne calmly reaches over and shuts off the video.

He slides his glasses off of his nose, resting the ear piece against his lips with narrowed eyes.

“I know you are far too intelligent to think that’s funny,” he grabs your chin and tilts your head to him. “Go on, apologize.”

ᯓ Sylus

Sylus is used to your antics by now. He’s currently fixing a loose piece on his bike when you extend the tripod and place your phone onto it.

He perks his head up just enough to wave to the camera.

“So today, I am going to be asking my current voting to quiz me in motorcycle facts!” He nearly busts his head under the bike from how quick he shoots up.

His hand grabs a handful of your ass and you squeak like a little mouse. “Oh Kitten, if you were so desperate for attention, you could’ve just said so~”

A few minutes later you are restarting the video, clearing your voice and trying to act like Sylus didn’t kiss you within an inch of your life.

“I’m here with Sylus, my husband.”

[hannibalised]

Omega!reader making a nest

Simon was flipping a pancake when you came tip toeing, unsure and frowning before rubbing an off white shirt up and down his muscled arms.

“Want pancakes, love ?” He asked, only to find his lovely omega sniffing up the shirt with a hum and going' back to bedroom. He huffed and poured the sizzling batter.

Five more minutes he watched with concerned eyes, while you ignored his many calls to eat something, just looking up with an unsatisfactory glance around, taking discarded socks and even tissues Simon was sure he threw just this morning, picking random objects up and sniffing them before looking at him with glowing eyes and asking him to hold them or rub these things on him.

“What is it baby, huh ?” He asked again, pouring maple syrup and chocolate over the pancakes just as you liked.

This time, you regarded him —“Gimme ya shirt.” And by that, you weren't even asking, straight up demanding with your palm outstretched to ask for the shirt he was wearing.

“Oh.” Simon chuckled, it took him only a moment to unbutton swiftly and hand over the shirt to you. “Need anything more, your highness ?”

“Mmm” You seemed to think for a bit, then without warning pinched out his hair, and with a satisfying smile rushed back to bedroom, unaware of your amused yet stunned alpha.

“Come back here ya lil' sweetie !” Simon called after you, holding up the breakfast plate.

He waited for you to come out again and hope around in for your odyssey but you didn't come out again.

Simon smiled to himself, knowing what you were upto and decided this was getting concerning and needed intervention right now. So he set aside the plate and wandered inside the bedroom.

And there he found his beautiful omega, you were biting your lips and tapping your foot like you always did when anxious, looking at the bed which has been now decorated with many of his clothes, his used cup, and his socks, there was his military gear too, all stacked up beautifully in an clumsy attempt.

Simon's heart welled up with extreme affection, his precious omega was making a nest with his things, everything that smelled like him.

“Babe—” he reached out to you, but your shoulders were already shaking with unshed tears. “This is not good.” You sniffed back as Simon's big hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you until your tears kissed his bare chest.

“It's the most beautiful nest my love. Look at you, my lil’ omega working so hard.” Simon coddled you, his eyes glancing at the bed with heart eyes, there were pillows from the couch he was napping this morning over. The newspaper he was reading was secured too, his mask was tucked in the middle of the headboard. You made it all around him because he was your safe place, your alpha mate.

“Do you like it ?” You looked up with tears stained eyes, honestly it felt like a mess to you, like a cluster of things you'd gathered up and dumped together.

But Simon made you feel safe, you couldn't imagine anything else in your nest except everything that was him.

Simon kissed your forehead first, then a peck to your lips and again, because you were his.

“I love it,” He smiled with bright eyes, “I love you my baby.”

Masterlist

[nochepsicodelica]

The door to your shared bedroom creaks open, and Toji is greeted by the sight of you sleeping. It's five in the afternoon and you're bundled up in the covers, soft breaths exiting through your mouth because your nose is congested. You look all cozy, like a hibernating bear, on his side of the bed. It would be a more adorable sight under different circumstances, but this is the product of you catching a cold.

Toji sets the small bag filled with your medicine and other little things he hopes will make you feel better, on his nightstand. He crouches down in front of you and brings a noticeably cooler hand to your heated cheek.

"Hey," Toji calls, gently pinching your cheek. Your hearing must be muffled, because you don't budge and remain in your deep sleep. "Ma," he tries again, shaking you by your shoulder this time. You stir and attempt to roll over in the other direction, towards the center of the bed, but Toji keeps you steady by tugging on the blanket you're cocooned in. "Wake up, mama. Just for a little. I got your stuff. Medicine, snacks— you probably won't be able to taste them, but they're there."

You open your eyes, and simply blink. The room is darker and more shadowy since you went down for your supposed nap. It's been hours, but your body still feels so tired and your head is pulsing.

"How are you feeling?" Toji asks.

You were trying to say "so so", but no sound came out, so it seemed like you were mouthing the words instead. You felt the effort your vocal cords made, but your voice was shot. Nothing is audible unless it's strained. A huff and a roll of your eyes let Toji know how bad of a time you were having.

"Gotcha," Toji responds to your attempt to speak, a soft smile on his face.

He stands up from his crouched position and turns to the bag on his nightstand, rummaging through it to grab the box of medicine at the bottom and your water bottle. He sees you untangling yourself from the covers and sitting up to rest against the headboard, in his peripheral vision. Your hair is messy, some of it is stuck to your forehead from how much you've been sweating, even though you've felt cold the whole time. You can't breathe properly out of your nose, and your throat is sore. Your entire demeanor just screams "sick".

Toji offers you two gel capsules and twists the cap off your bottle of water, before handing it to you as well. You toss the pills into your mouth, and wash them down with a swig of water. In an attempt to clear your nose, you sniff a few times, getting absolutely no change in your ability to breathe through your nose.

"Go back to sleep. I'll get you some soup for when you wake up, 'kay?"

You nod and set your water bottle down on Toji's nightstand, before you slide back down the bed and shift comfortably onto your side. The blanket is wrapped around you, again, and you're ready to shut your eyes. Toji comes closer, crouching down like he did when he woke you up.

"Mm-mm," you hum, the sound cracked and barely audible, a response to Toji leaning in and trying to kiss you.

"Come on, ma. It's been a whole day. Just one. A peck?"

"No," you whisper, only able to communicate verbally in this hushed voice.

"Oh. You want me to have two?" He says, with a playful smirk.

You give him a deadpan expression and shift in the blanket, bringing it up to cover your mouth.

"Okay, fine. Just one."

You shake your head, minimally. Just enough so that you don't shake your brain and make your head hurt even more, and he still gets the message.

"Be nice, mama. Just one, then i'll leave you alone--" he pauses, briefly, "--until I come back with your soup. Then you gotta give me another one. You know, Toji Tax."

You roll your eyes and huff. The Toji Tax is just Toji's way of getting extra loving from you. There's a Toji Tax on just about everything he does for you, so you're not surprised that your sickness doesn't exempt you from it.

Your reaction showed the signs that let Toji know that he's about to get what he wants. The barrier you raised over your mouth is lowered, your involuntary pout now on full display, ready to be kissed whenever Toji's ready.

"Don't look too excited," Toji jests. He chuckles at the gloomy expression on your face. You look absolutely miserable in this state. It's adorable, and while he would love to keep teasing you, he decides to move faster so that you can get your rest.

It starts with a peck—as promised. He's slow with separating his lips from yours, to keep the contact with you going for as long as possible. Then he goes in for another one—just as gentle and delayed in separation. You still haven't done anything to stop him, so he keeps going in for more and more, each kiss more fervent than the last. Within seconds, he's barraging you with quick kisses, back to back, as if to make up for the last twenty-four hours he went without feeling your soft lips against his. He's getting closer, almost climbing into bed with you, so you hum and turn your head. He starts following your movement, like an eager puppy, chasing after more of your kisses.

"Don't care if I get sick, ma."

You hum in disapproval and push his face away when he starts leaning in, again. Quickly, you cover your head with the blanket and roll to the other side of the bed.

Toji sighs, a mischievous smirk lingering on his face. He got way more than he expected, but when it comes to you, he can never have enough. He stands up from the awkward position he got himself into while he chased after your lips, and looks at your bundled up figure, now out of his reach.

"I'll be back, doll. Gonna go get your soup, but remember... Toji Tax."

[gloomwitchwrites]

Hi! I absolutely love your writing and I've been stalking your page for a while now and I'm really surprised no one requested that one old tik tok trends of S/Os grabbing thier partners feet from under the bed.

PLEASE I NEED TO KNOW THE COD MEN REACTION 😭😭😭😭😭

The way I cackled over this. I love a good prank, especially when there is nothing malicious or nasty behind it. Thank you so much for sending this in!! I had a freaking blast with this. Also, genuinely startled/surprised 141 is just a hilarious concept to me. Enjoy!!

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Reader (can be read as gn!reader)

Content & Warnings (MDNI): swearing, hijinks & shenanigans, pranks, established relationship

Word Count: 800

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

It’s unfair to do this to John, but he makes it so easy. He falls for every one of your pranks. Speedwalks right into them.

And this one is no exception.

You’ve smushed yourself underneath the bed. It’s possible you won’t be able to get out. But that’s a problem for later. Right now, you’re about to scare John.

“I’m home,” he calls out.

You remain quiet. Distantly, you hear the front door shut, and John’s heavy footfalls.

“Dove. I’m home.”

Still, you remain silent.

John calls your name this time. You do not respond.

“Cabbage?”

This time, you almost snort. John doesn’t call you cabbage unless he’s being sincere.

John appears in the doorway, pausing just outside. He takes one step, and then another. He’s just out of reach, booted feet near but not close enough.

“Car’s out front.”

Another step.

You grin, and grab at his ankles.

“What in the bloody—”

John stumbles back, nearly trips, and then rights himself. You cackle, and John sighs. Wiggling closer to the edge of the bed, you bring your face into the light.

“Welcome home,” you grin.

John shakes his head. “I’m not helping you get out from under there.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

You silently chuckle to yourself, rubbing your hands together like some comic book villain. Johnny is just off the game with Simon, walking around the house looking for you.

“Darling,” he calls out, that Scottish lilt making the pet name even sweeter.

You stay hidden, watching him pass the bedroom not once but twice.

Even from your hiding spot, you can hear him muttering to himself as he searches room to room.

His feet and ankles appear, pausing just inside the doorway before heading straight to the bathroom. He checks there, and then the closet.

As Johnny passes by the bed to leave, you take a swipe at his feet.

“Oi!” he shouts, spinning around.

You wait a beat. He takes a step. Pauses. When he attempts to leave again, you make another pass.

This time Johnny yells, rushing for the door, returning seconds later. Moving to his hands and knees, Johnny looks under the bed—but only at a safe distance.

“You,” he says, smirking. He starts crawling toward you.

“Johnny,” you warn, but it’s too late. He’s reaching under the bed, wrestling you out from under it, peppering you with sloppy kisses that leave smears of salvia behind.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon is fresh up from a nap. He has no idea you’re currently hiding under the bed. But you’ve taken his phone, placed it on the bed as bait, making calls on it to herd him toward your hiding spot.

Simon appears, stopping directly beside the side of the bed. Slowly, you reach out, and then manically flail about, grabbing at his sock-covered feet.

You expect that your actions might surprise him. He might even make a sound, or even swear. What you didn’t expect is to hear your unshakably dreary husband let out a shriek like that of a startled old woman. Pulling your hand back, you cover your mouth, stifling a snort.

“Bloody hell!” he shouts, taking a few steps back.

He pauses a moment, and then gets down onto his knees before flattening himself across the floor.

“Come here,” says Simon, voice eerily calm.

Oh. Oh no.

“I’d rather not,” you reply, knowing that Simon is already brewing up a punishment.

“Come out, love.”

You scoot further away. “Your tone is too neutral, Simon.”

“Everything’s fine.”

“Is it?”

“I’m calm.”

You’re nearly out the other end.

“I’ll chase you,” he smirks.

You make a run for it.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

“I’m in here, Kyle,” you call out as you slide yourself beneath the bed.

You wiggle around until you’re hidden, waiting for him to follow your voice. You hear his footfalls before he appears.

“I thought we—” He comes to a stop just inside the door. “Babe?” A pause, and then he says your name. Then, softly, “where are you hiding?”

As he steps into the room, and heads for the bathroom, his feet pass by your hiding spot. This is your only opportunity before he figures out that you’re beneath the bed.

You reach out, just brushing your fingertips against him, then retreat.

“Fucking hell!” he shouts, stumbling backward.

You do it again, and this time he growls your name. Taking a step back, Kyle drops onto his stomach, gaze narrowed as it focuses on you.

“Really?” he asks, deadpan.

“I found it hilarious,” you reply.

Kyle sighs and shakes his head. “Move over.”

“What?”

Shoving himself underneath, Kyle drags himself across the floor until you’re shoulder to shoulder under the bed.

“Bloody filthy down here,” observes Kyle. “Needs a good dusting.” He winks. “Got a spider in your hair, love.”

“I regret this so much,” you whisper.

taglist:

@glitterypirateduck @km-ffluv @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@fern-reads @tulipsun-flower @miss-mistinguett @ninman82 @eternallyvenus

@beebeechaos @smileykiddie08 @whisperwispxx @chaostwinsofdestruction @weasleytwins-41

@saoirse06 @glassgulls @ravenpoe67 @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat

@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim

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@keiva1000 @jackrabbitem @arrozyfrijoles23 @lovely-ateez @waves-against-a-cliff

@ash-tarte @marispunk @gingergirl06 @certainlygay @greeniegreengreen

[cosmic-dust-poltergeist]

Thinking about a forever teen Danny interacting with the batfam.. again lmao

[Pt 2 here]

The first time Danny interacted with a Bat was when he was squatting in what he assumed was an abandoned apartment in crime alley. Spoiler alert; it wasn't abandoned! It was, in fact, Red Hood's safe house.

Danny had been napping on the "surprisingly nice" bed, (The bed being so nice should have tipped him off, but he was so tired, damnit.) when Red Hood enters the room, startling Danny awake. They stare at each other for a minute, since neither expected to see another person there. Danny breaks the moment by diving off the bed, snatching up his backpack, and launching himself out the window he had crawled in from. Danny ignores the cussing and calling for him to wait.

Danny ain't no fool. Just because the world seems to be mostly accepting of metas and aliens, doesn't mean they're accepting of him. They haven't repealed the Ecto-Acts in the last 30 years. He refuses to be a lab rat for some shady government because a "hero" wants to "save" him. He's older than most of these fuckers in spandex, and is technically a king, so they got no authority over him.

"Kid! Come back!" Red Hood is keeping up rather well, but not well enough.

"Eat shit!" Danny shouts back before using his small size to squeeze into a space between 2 run down buildings that can't even count as an alley. Red Hood can't fit by a long shot, so he grapples to the roof, probably hoping to cut Danny off. Unfortunately for Red Hood, Danny isn't going that way or back. No, there's a secret passage entrance Danny throws himself through.

He doesn't like being down there. Too many undead roam the halls and can sense him. He's not sure how to help them and currently can't access the realms to ask Frostbite, so he just gives them some of his ectoplasum and tries to get out before their "Masters" notice him. He feels guilty every time.

But all in all, his first accidental Bat meeting was less than 10 minutes.

--

The second Bat he "meets" is the stabby new Robin. Danny figured crime alley was a bust, so he'd try one of the nicer areas to not cross paths with Red Hood. Unfortunately, the shady building he decided to sleep in the rafters of got invaded by the Bats a few days later. He's not sure who else was there, but Robin ended up in the same rafters.

They stare at each other for a minute, just taking in the other person who's not supposed to be in these rafters. Robin is clearly sneaking in to bust the owners, and Danny looks like some scruffy homeless kid that was just sleeping.

"What are you doing here?" Robin whispers with a scowl.

"I was sleeping." Danny scowls right back.

"Why are you sleeping here?"

"What does it look like? Not all of us have sugar daddies, bird boy."

Was that mean? Yes. Should he act like the 44 year old he technically is? Yeah, but he's frozen at 14. He can be a brat. No one can stop him. And also, this is the second time a Bat has woken him up from a nap, the first time was only a week ago. He's not feeling very mature.

Robin grits his teeth before his com goes off, distracting him, and Danny takes advantage of that, grabs his shit and phases through the wall into the next building.

--

The third time he meets a Bat is truly his undoing. He got stabbed in front of Nightwing during an attempted mugging. He hates the universe and totally blames Clockwork.

Danny was minding his own business when he got dragged into an alley by 3 drunk men. They're holding knives and trying their best to intimate him.

"Give us all your money."

"Do I look like I have money?" Danny snarks, waving a hand in a "look at me" way. Which, yeah, he's pulling off the homeless kid look really well with how dirty and worn out his clothes. No one in their right mind would look at him and think he has money.

"Hm. Well, if you don't have money, I can think of something else you can give us."

"Yeah, please struggle. It makes it more fun." Well, shit, Danny was not expecting to be grabbed by pedos. Danny bare gets to think about how it'll be good stress relief to break all the bones in their limbs before a tall shadowy figure drops from the roof and lands on the attacker farthest from him. The landing breaks the pedo's leg, his screamings about it are cut off by a sharp punch to the face.

When the shadowy figure straightens and is revealed to be Nightwing, pedo #2 charges him. Between how poorly it goes for him and all the puns and quips Nightwing is making, Danny can't help the giggles that slips out.

"You think this is funny, brat??" Pedo #3 shouts at him.

"Yeah. It's hilarious." Danny maliciously grins at him.

"Why you, just die, whore." And before Danny can question how HE's a whore, he's been stabbed. And it's a pretty good stab if you want to kill someone. It's a jagged downward stab, it nicks his heart and completely fucks up one of his lungs, and the guy even goes the extra step of pulling the knife out. All in all. The perfect stab to kill someone.

Unfortunately for him, Danny isn't just someone. He's already mostly dead, which means while it hurts like a bitch and it's hard to breath, it won't kill him. It does suck he coughs up some blood before he turns off his need to breathe.

Danny ignores the cussing and sounds of Nightwing breaking bones, probably panicking over just seeing "a kid get murdered". And unfortunately, no breathing means no talking in this form. So the poor guy can't be verbally told Danny's fine, and to stop freaking out. Good thing saying something isn't always needed.

Danny lets his eyes turn a glowing bright green before silently stepping to his would-be murderer.

"What?? What the fuck??" Pedo #3 screeches. Danny gives him a blood filled smile before reaching up, grabbing the wrist of the hand holding the knife. He breaks the guy's arm in less than a second, before slamming him into the disgusting alley ground and proceeds to break both of his legs. The way Danny crashed the bones in these limbs means the guy is never going to have full mobility again, but Danny can't even pretend to care. The man targeted what looked like a scrawny 14 year old homeless kid to rape and murder. If anything, Danny is letting him off easy.

"K-kid? Are you okay? What am I saying? Of course not." Nightwing frets and tries to get closer, but Danny is tired of... well everything, so he just turns and books it out of the alley. Danny ignores Nightwing's frantic shouting as he twists and turns out of the man's sight long enough to pull up his invisibility without outing the power. He watches a panicked Nightwing run by before tapping into his flight and taking off to the nearest graveyard. Sitting in the ambient ectoplasum there while drinking what he has left in his thermos will speed up his healing.

He'd so leave this shithole of a city if he could. But Lady Gotham won't let him go and he's positive Clockwork is working with her to keep him there. He doesn't know what they're planning, but he hates it already.

---

After the stabbing, Nightwing and the other two must have spilled about him, because he's suddenly dodging Bats everywhere he goes. He starts developing even worse paranoia because they just won't take a hint.

Talking was a no go at first with his healing lung, but running away, swiping claws, biting, and throwing shit at them aren't exactly subtly "Leave Me The Fuck Alone!!" vibes. Once his lung is healed, you can add in cussing, hissing, spitting, and verbally telling them to fuck off. None of it works. It fact, Danny thinks they like the challenge, which is annoying, but slowly becoming amusing.

Though, even just the idea of him starting to enjoy something means the universe has to throw a curve ball. And this one takes the form of a scarecrow attack.

So admittedly, Danny had no idea what fear toxin would do to him, but Joker's toxins didn't do anything to him, so he thought it'd be the same shit. That was a stupid mistake on his part.

He didn't bother holding his breath when helping the Panicked Bats get civilians out of the attack radius. Any mask that was given to him was given to a civilian before he passed them off to someone with an antidote.

But to be fair, the effects of his mistake doesn't hit him til after the fight is over and the civilians are taken care of. It starts with his paranoia raising. He's suddenly eyeing the people and buildings around him. He can FEEL his parents' gaze on him, even though he knows that's impossible, they died because the portal finally blew up and took them and half the town with it. No one who died as humans from it became ghosts, and the people who were already ghosts died a second time. The only reason Danny and Tucker weren't there was because they were gift shopping for Jazz on the other side of town while Sam distracted her. It was one of the worst days of his life. It's tied with the day his parents vivisecting his ghost half and the day the GIW vivisected Vlad and him, and Vlad just straight up died from it in front of him.

That's relevant because Danny starts hallucinating a half melted Sam and Jazz (there were no bodies left behind, but his brain likes to torment him), he can't understand what they're trying to say to him, but there's the unmistakable sound of an ectoblaster echoing in his ear behind him and he... just bolts. The agents that vivisected him launch themselves at him (he doesn't process the "agents" look exactly the same as when he last saw them 24 years ago), but Danny is determined to NEVER be caught again.

He freezes when melted versions of his parents, wearing maniac grins and holding sparking weapons, cut him off. The moment they so much as twitch towards him, he bolts straight through a building using his intangibility.

A tiny part of his brain is trying to reason with him. There's no way anything he's seeing is real. This is what fear toxin is known to do. Stop and evaluate the situation!

But it's drownt out by the fear. And, ancients, is there a lot of fear. It suffocates his logical thoughts and makes him forget how to properly use his powers to escape.

He finds out later, it took the Bats 2 hours to get close enough to give him the antidote and another hour for it to kick in. They honestly thought it didn't work at first, because just like the toxin, the antidote took it's sweet time to work on him.

He crashed out hard once it did, though. Like, he fell unconscious and stopped breathing. It terrified the Bats and took them a minute to realize he's not actually dead. Well, full dead.

He finds out eventually that they originally thought he was a meta, but after all the weirdness he accidentally showed during the cat and mouse chase, they started to wonder if he was an alien. But the whole fear toxin incident convince them he escaped from some shady organization that experimented on him (not untrue) and killed his family. There's still a bet on if he's an alien or not, and that being why he was targeted.

Which is a fair conclusion, between his powers that seemingly make no sense and all his scars from fighting and being experimented on by both his parents And a shady government agency. It's especially fair after he has a major freak out coming to in the Batcave's med bay. The smells and medical equipment setting him off into a massive panic attack that leaves him behaving like a feral cat. He manages to squeeze himself into the small space between the top of the cabinets and the ceiling and growls at anyone so much as peeking into the room.

"Hey, kid. You're alright. You're safe." Nightwing tries and gets hissed at. He'd been trying for about 10 minutes to get him to come down. "Um, guys, maybe someone else should try. This isn't working. I don't think he likes me at all."

Black Bat steps into the room at his plea and waves Nightwing away. Once he's out of the room, she drops to the floor. The move confuses Danny enough to stop growling at her. He stares wide-eyed at her as she just lays full starfish on the floor.

"What are you doing?" He finally asks after 3 full minutes of silently staring at her.

"Laying."

"I see that, but why?"

"You're scared. I'm showing I'm not a threat." Black Bat sounds amused, but not malicious. Danny stares at her for another 2 minutes without blinking once.

"Why am I here?"

"You're scared. We want to help." She makes it sound simple.

"You can't." Danny lets bitterness leak into his voice.

"Why?"

"I'm not human anymore. You can't "help" me."

"I think we can." Danny starts growling again, so she adds. "We have beds and food and can keep whoever is hunting you away."

He pauses his growling again. "You don't even know who I am."

"You're sad, and hurt, and help others before yourself. You're good." Danny frowns at that.

"You're weird." He states before climbing down and sitting near her. She doesn't move a muscle. "You can't help me without getting in trouble with the government."

"Hm?"

"Yeah, I'm not considered a person because of the Anti-Ecto Acts. Anything that uses or needs ectoplasum to survive is considered non-sentient and is to be turned over for experimentation and termination. And anyone caught helping us can be arrested for treason." Danny explains. "I barely escaped when I got caught. My godfather didn't. I hated him. He was mean, controlling, and creepy, but I didn't want him to die."

"I'm sorry."

"My problems are not your problems."

"I disagree." Danny blinks at her, his gaze sharpening when she starts moving her arm farthest from him. She moves slowly, reaching up and hooking her fingers under her mask.

"Wait!" Danny leans forward a hair as if he was about to physically grab her hand to stop her, but jerks himself back. He sounds small when he speaks again. "Are-are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Why??"

"Trust you."

"But WHY? You don't know me."

"I know enough." Is all she says before pulling her mask off. He slams his eyes shut and claps his hands over them for good measure.

"No, you don't!!" He hears her move, sitting up, before gentle hands pull his hands away.

"Yes, I do." She says sweetly. "Look."

Danny peeks at her. She has a bittersweet look on her face that brightens when she sees Danny looking. She's still gently holding his hands, loose enough he can pull away if he truly wants to.

"I'm not as young as I look." She tilts her head at the seemingly random comment. "I'm not actually 14. Not anymore. I'm stuck at when I died."

He hears her, and their eavesdroppers, gasp. It's the first time he's talked about it. But something tells him to tell her (them, if he's acknowledging the eavesdropping Bats).

"My parents were mad scientists that wouldn't be out of place in your rouges gallery." He stares at his and Black Bat's hands. "They were obsessed with ghosts and made a portal to the infinite realm, where "ghosts" live. They failed twice. Once in college, my godfather was hospitalized from the attempt, and the second time they failed, I accidentally turned it while being stupid with friends and died. They didn't notice, too happy their portal was suddenly working... That was 30 years ago."

There's a choking noise from the eavesdroppers.

"If I stay, you're going to be stuck with a freaky kid that doesn't age and can't be killed by the usual methods and has so much PTSD, like a ridiculous amount of PTSD. Are you sure you want to deal with that?"

"Yes." Black Bat doesn't even hesitate. Danny nearly gives himself whiplash from how quickly he looks up at her face. "Can't scare us away."

"It should. I don't even count as human."

"So?"

""So"???"

"Yes. Why should I care?"

"Why should-??? Why wouldn't you???"

"Kid." An unmasked Red Hood stands in the doorway. "This family is full of freaks and mental illness. You'll fit right in."

The statement strikes a nerve, overwhelming him, but Danny doesn't understand what's happening at first, why his lips are trembling, his face feels warm, and his eyes sting. He hasn't felt this sensation in years. But whatever look on his face makes the infamous Red Hood panic.

"Wait! Kid! Don't cry!"

It suddenly clicks with Danny. He's about to cry. But understanding what is happening, doesn't stop it from happening. Fat tears start sliding down his face.

"Dickie! What do I do?? I accidentally made him cry!! You're better wi-" Red Hood cuts himself off when Danny starts laughing. Laughing at how panicked a crimelord is at tears. Laughing at crying. Laughing at the whole absurd situation.

"It's okay." Black Bat says softly. Whether it's to Danny or the panicky Bat is lost to Danny. But no one says anything else til Danny's tears stop and laughter dies down.

"I was Phantom, ya know?" And he hears several people choke. After he was forcibly retired, this ghost half became known as "The First Hero" in a lot of circles. The GIW repressed the fact he was a ghost when people outside of Amity Park found out about the child hero, they didn't want the public angry with them for making him disappear. It didn't work, Tucker leaked everything he could find. Danny doesn't blame him for that. Tucker thinks he's completely dead since the GIW didn't want to admit they lost him and declared him to have Ended in those files. Danny hasn't told him he's "alive" either. Danny can't bring himself to drag Tucker back into the mess that is his life, can't bring himself to contact the man who has made something of his life, has a partner and kids, has mourned and moved on. He just can't do it. "But before I was Phantom, I was Danny Fenton. But now... I'm just Danny."

"Welcome to the family, Danny!" An unmasked Nightwing cheers.

"I thought Phantom had white hair?" Someone says just outside the room. Danny mischievously leans towards Black Bat.

"Close your eyes. This is going to be bright." He whispers. She smiles gamely and closes her eyes. He gets to hear the others yelp when he lets his transformation take over, essentially flashbanging everyone, but Black Bat.

"Wha..?"

"Hair white enough for you?" Danny says, grinning with too many teeth, that are a little too sharp. Black Bat pats the hand she's still holding.

"Pretty." She smiles delighted at him and he feels his face flush bright green.

"Oh! Um.. Thanks?" He takes a deep breath and realizes something. "Now you know my name, so who the hell are all of you?"

"You don't recognize us?"

"No. Am I supposed to?"

"Eh, most people do." Nightwing shrugs.

"Well, I haven't been able to keep up with much in the public zeitgeist. I just periodically check if it's still legal to kill me. Sadly, the answer is "yes" every time, so meh."

"We'll be taking care of that." Red Robin informs him while stepping into the room and frantically typing on a tablet. "I can't believe these stupid things still exist. The Green Lanterns and Justice League Dark are going to have the biggest fit when they see these. The rest of the JL will help dismantle these too. I'll personally get them to destroy these vile laws."

"Oh.. Thanks, I guess. It'll be nice to not be hunted anymore."

"I imagine."

"Okay! Introductions!" Nightwing gets them all back on topic. "I'm Dick Grayson! Batman is Bruce Wayne. Robin is Damian Wayne."

"Tim Drake."

"Cassandra Cain. But call me Cass."

"Jason Todd."

"Wait, wait, wait. I recognize your name! Didn't you- oh, wait, that's insensitive..."

"It's fine. I did, in fact, die, but I got better. We can start a club of undead. We can invite Spoiler. She technically died, too."

"Literally everyone here, besides me has died, Jason." Tim says, not looking away from the tablet.

"Yeah, but Steph is the only one I'd invite. She knows how to have fun."

"Little wing!" Dick whines.

"Timber can be an honorary member, since he's dead inside, a fun chaos gremlin, and ain't a narc."

"Thanks." Tim says dryly while Dick dramatically cries. Cass giggles.

And Danny? He's tired of running. He wants to be able to be the child he's stuck as while getting respect over his knowledge. He wants to be a vigilante and help people again. He wants to finally have a safe place to sleep.

So he decides to give these weirdos a chance.

[acid-ixx]

why can't we return to what we once were?

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

— masterlist !

i know my main trope for the neglected reader series is how never, for once, bruce had ever held them in his arms, but i've been thinking of something which pains me where what if you were never truly neglected as a child, only that, your family's affection for you slowly faded over time?

what if bruce was a good father — always was, you thought to yourself even if it's been years since he last picked you up personally from school — and yet he's slowly been distancing himself from you from the overabundance of his workload, managing both wayne enterprises and his double life as batman?

a pile of tasks, of missions, all stacked up to the point he just couldn't pick a time of his day to schedule at least an hour with his so-called 'treasure', you?

what if the longer you've grown, the more their memories of spending time with you in the manor's garden, buying ice cream from the vendors off the side of the streets, or even quick runs to the grocery store with dick, him buying you your favorite treats, whilst carrying your small, younger form in his all became all but a fading memory?

what if they became too busy after you became older? believing you needed space, and yet all you received is an ever diverging relationship with each individual, a silent excuse, a mutter under their breath that they have things to prioritize, work more important than the time they spent with you all those years ago?

time so precious to you, time you realized you never cherished back in those golden days, where dick and tim would drop anything they're doing just to play board games with you back when you were freshly taken into bruce's arms.

time so slow, now, now that bruce looks at you with those sorry eyes, a gentle promise that feels like empty excuses that he'll be back soon, he'll find time for you.

and he'll cradle you, temporarily, time passing by oh-so quickly when he's with you, time you wish would just stop if it means being with your father for just a longer moment. he holds your sunken cheeks that he never truly gazed at, with calloused hands rubbing softly against the sleepless bags dipping below your eyes. and yet unlike last time, he never looks at you.

unlike last time, he doesn't cherish his hold, doesn't notice the finer details of starvation and utter desperation creeping deep inside your body.

the hasty goodbye hugs feel emptier than the presence of heartache which looms over your hallowed out chest.

his back turned on you as he entered through the hole behind the grandfather clock makes you wish you never hoped for his time in the first place.

their guidance is what led you to your growth, and yet it's what stunted you, forced you to cling into past memories, nostalgic laughter, dick's ridiculous attempts to make you laugh, to distract you from the trauma of watching your mother die. tim's awkward smile churned at you, and yet you once felt his care in the way he'd offer you his favorite energy drinks whilst alfred would snatch it away from his hands, scolding him for tempting a child to drink something unhealthy.

it once felt like the warm kisses of the sun, it once felt like a dream the longer you rest in your empty bed, in your quiet room.

a room once filled with laughter, a room which used to hold quiet sessions with bruce, where he'd read you your favorite bedtime stories, where dick would crash in after another fight with your father, where it used to be tim's favorite napping spot.

bruce loved you enough back then, to even adorn you with gleaming pearl earrings in one of the galas he'd take you with. he used to hold you in just one arm, carrying you off to the tables filled with desserts every time you point at it. he laughs heartily with the fellow rich, tells them of stories of your tantrums, of your achievements, wins their hearts with memories of you he recalls.

it once made you smile so widely it nearly hurt your cheeks, once made you forget what happened in that boxed up apartment, of your mother's corpse, replaced with genuine joy that your presence was held up like a trophy; that you meant something in this big, intimidating world.

now, even rebelling during the galas, masking your desperation for their attention with atrocious behavior. pretending to be all ditzy if it meant to steal your father's gaze for just a second, maybe your new brothers and sisters too— and yet all you're met with is judgement, barely disguised contempt for your inappropriate acts— tim's embarrassed wince, damian — the new youngest member — tsking.

where was it? where was once the light giggles at your clumsiness? where was once dick's gentle scolding and bruce's fuzzing over you?

they say things change. you know it's true, you should've believed it was, but you cling to hope so blindly, so eminently stupid that you think the world revolved around you, that you think you hold even an ember to the burning flames surrounding your weak demeanor.

they are heroes, you are not.

they hold double lives, you do not.

they are family, and sometimes, you feel like you are not.

not part of it, at least, not anymore.

and you don't know when it started, don't know why it feels like you're slowly slipping away from them, or rather, like it's them who throws you out of their circle.

but what you do know, what you always noticed, was that it hurts you all the same.

the same searing pain, the familiar ache against your chest once you've realized that they've always had time. that bruce always had time for the newer people living in the manor. he was always there for cass' ballet recitals, he was always there for duke even during his day shifts, he was always there for damian's football, for dick whom he'll drive away to bludhaven to care for if anything happens, for jason who works in the crime alley, for barbara constantly looming in the batcave, for alfred, for steph, for everyone but you.

just you.

the mundane little child who he used to easily pick up with just one arm, the kid whom he knew he cherished back then, who he proudly showed off to everyone during galas, who he used to match clothes with, watch movies with, helped silence their cries with hushed comfort, held them close to his chest.

to his heart which was always closed off, open just for you to hear the paced heartbeats if it meant help calming yours.

to his heart that held no more space for you after all these years.

seemingly forgetting you, seemingly rendering you restless, broken with all these questions on why, just why did this happen? just what caused all this sudden anguish, this sudden silence, this aching pain.

pain which held you in a vice grip, pain which forced you to smile at alfred as you pretending like all these— these attempts at restoring past memories never once hurt you, never once made you doubt if all the love they once had given you was all false.

pretenses, lies, deceit and manipulation which almost made you believe: that you're the problem, that they hate you, that your inherent choice, your eminent mistake at not choosing the vigilante life is what led you to your downfall; to this neverending pain.

and you almost believed, almost succumbed to the same paths if you were confident enough to believe in yourself.

after all, all you wanted was their presence.

all you wanted was to be cradled, no matter how childish you'd be called, no matter what it takes—

you cling to that hope that maybe, just maybe, they'd hold you once more.

maybe, just maybe, dick would swarm you in a pile of blankets like last time, bring home some junk food exclusive to bludhaven. that tim would sleep in your room, rest his head against your shoulder for just a sliver of rest. that bruce would just fucking hold you, console you when the tears become too heavy, when the weight of the world becomes too restricting against you.

maybe you wouldn't be alone anymore.

because after all, even if the hands that cradled you were calloused, blistering skin, scabbed and sullied. even if it held the weight of gotham's expectations for their saviors. even if it were stained with blood, and years of heavy combat.

even if it were unfamiliar now, even if you'll never know what it'd feel like anymore—

— it was still the same hands which cradled you all along.

and you could only hope it would cradle you once more.

you could only hope they care just enough to find you once you leave for an entirely different country, once you permanently erase traces which leads back to you.

you, just the mundane, useless child you once were.

a/n: wow, sorry for suddenly disappearing teehee <3 two things: i think i forgot how to properly write angst and i temporarily lost interest in the fandom (it felt too suffocating at some point), hence the sudden silence. everything felt utterly boring for me and i started to fixate on 10 other fandoms whilst trying to restore my love for this one. but hey! lookie here, a little concept i decided to post. it's my sorry attempt at regaining the spark of writing, and i'd rather not force myself to write for chapter 6 or else i'd end up losing more of my fixation for dc comics 😭