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redstarwriting · 11 months

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bestie

spider squad x black cat!fem!reader

request?: yes

request: “hi! okay i love your works and my brains been rotting thinking abt this lol. i was wondering if i could request a black cat variant! reader that somehow (idk how sorry ), she's apart of the spider-society? Given that black cats backstory isn't all that nice, maybe she has a deal W miguel to let her stay if she makes sure she uses her skills to help the society instead of stealing? and how the squad(miles, gwen, pav, hobie) meet her in the society?”

requested by: anon

word count: 2.1k

genre: platonic and chaotic LMAO

Warnings: language, stealing, bad Spanish, slight Gwen crush if you squint but also like not really

A/N: STOP I LOVE WRITING PLATONIC AND CHAOTIC THINGS!! i did change up the prompt a bit as they didn’t meet her in spider society necessarily (even though the did, they just didn’t know it lol) i hope you enjoy this anon! also if anyone wants to knows some of the specific songs that gave me black cat 2099 vibes lemme know 👀 i’ll make a post

pt ii - becoming hobie’s bestie

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Gwen, Miles, Pavitr, and Hobie were called to “the principal’s office” as they started calling it. So here they are, in front of Miguel, waiting to be reprimanded for something they did. “I have a mission for the three of you,” he says, pointing to Miles, Gwen, and Pav. “Hobie, you’re not needed.”

“Like ‘ell I’m not,” he says, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall. Miguel subtly smiles to himself. Reverse psychology. Works every time.

“Wait, what?” Miles asks, eyes wide. “You aren’t gonna yell at us for existing?” Gwen asks, equally as surprised. Miguel rolls his eyes. “For existing? When have I ever…” he trails off as Pav, Hobie, and Gwen point at Miles.

And Miles points at himself.

“Dios mío,” Miguel mumbles, pinching the bridge of his nose. “No. I’m not doing that. This time.”

“What’s the mission then? Are we going somewhere new? Oh! Can I bring back a souvenir?” Pavitr asks, excitedly. “No, but I’m sure you’ll end up with some sort of souvenir regardless,” Miguel grumbles, and Hobie raises his eyebrow. “Well, what do you mean by that?” Gwen asks and Miguel types into his computer. A picture of a girl pops up on the screen. “I need you to bring me her.”

“Uhhh what? You want us to bring you a… civilian?” Miles asks, and Miguel nods. “She’ll respond to you all better. You’re the same age,” Miguel says, and they all glance at each other. “Can you not be secretive for like, a couple of seconds? Is she an anomaly?”

“No, Gwen. Just bring her to Spider Society, please. She’s from this universe, so I’m just sending you to where I need you to go,” Miguel says, opening a portal for them to go through. They all glance at each other before Gwen shrugs, walking through the portal. Miles and Pav follow her, and Hobie rolls his eyes following the three of them. They find themselves… at a show? They’re on top of the catwalk in a stadium show, looking down at the audience. “What the hell?” Gwen mumbles and Hobie is intrigued when he sees the instruments on the stage. “Now why did he send us to a concert?” Miles asks, and Pav shrugs. Right at that moment, the lights go down and everyone starts to scream. “So, you think she’s in the crowd? How are we supposed to find someone in all of these people?” Miles asks, and Pav shrugs. “I can do it, easily,” Pav says, and Miles and Gwen give him a Look™. “What?! It’s simple you just look for her face! Miguel showed us a picture of her.”

“Aye, ‘e’s right. Found her,” Hobie says, and they all look at him. He’s pointing, and they follow his finger. “SHE’S THE SINGER?!” Gwen yells as the music starts. “Yeah. Guess we gotta wait for the set to finish,” Hobie says, shrugging and sitting on the catwalk, “Gettin’ a free show outta this shit at least.”

“Oh, please, every show you’ve ever been to has been free,” Gwen says, sitting next to him, taking her mask off. Hobie, Pav, and Miles all follow suit. “What does Miguel want with a singer?”

“I like her outfit,” Pav says, ignoring Miles’ question and sitting next to Gwen. Miles quickly slips between Pav and Gwen, shooing him away slightly. “Not my style. Lyrics ain’t bad,” Hobie says, leaning back and observing the performance, “She can sing, I’ll give ‘er ‘at.”

“I fuck with it. Lyrics speak to me,” Gwen says, and Pav nods. “She seems angry.”

“Yeah, that’s why I can respect what she’s doin’. Threatenin’ and angry music is cool,” Hobie says, bobbing his head up and down. Gwen nods. “Okay, guys, seriously, what does Miguel want with a singer?”

“Maybe she’s a scientist or something? Miguel needs her help?” Gwen suggests, and Miles shakes his head. “Nah, I feel like he’d just meet with her then.”

“He did mention she was close to our age, though. And her songs make it sound like she has an issue with authority,” Pav mentions, and Hobie nods. “I fuck with ‘er.” They all look at him. “Oh, I get it. She’s Hobie’s age,” Gwen says, and Hobie raises his eyebrow. “What does ‘at ‘ave to do with anythin’?”

“You two are the same age, both have a problem with authority… whatever she is, she needs someone she can relate to to actually come with us,” Gwen says, and Hobie nods. “Guess ‘at makes sense.” The four of them continue watching the concert. Even though it isn’t necessarily punk music, Hobie loves the lyrics. And Gwen loves all of the songs because she understands the lyrics more than the other guys. Miles is enjoying it because Gwen is enjoying it, and Pav is enjoying it because other people are enjoying it. However, neither of them would probably listen to this after this mission. When you’re nearing the end, Miles slips his mask back on. “Alright, everyone. What’s the plan?”

“We need to get backstage,” Gwen says, slipping her mask on as well. “‘ave a gander down there,” Hobie says, pointing at some marks on the stage. “What’s that?” Pav asks. “Pyrotechnics. When they go off, we go in,” Hobie says, and they all nod. “Hope they’re big enough that no one sees us,” Gwen mumbles and Hobie scoffs. “Gwendy, it’s a stadium show. It’s ‘bout to be big,” he says. The four of them prepare, running along the catwalk and getting ready to web back to where you would disappear to. Sure enough, the pyrotechnics go off and Hobie was right. They’re big. It gives them the advantage as they slip undetected backstage. They hide high up, watching as you run offstage after your encore. They silently follow you to your dressing room and Miles points at an air vent. Gwen nods, quietly yanking it off of its hinges. She crawls inside, taking a glance to make sure you’re still clothed, and then motions for the boys to follow.

Meanwhile, you’re wiping your makeup off, sipping on some water to soothe your throat from your performance. You walk away from the giant mirror to go grab a snack in the corner of the room when, suddenly, you feel like someone is watching you. You subtly unsheathe your hairbrush, which doubles as a dagger. Just in case. You take a deep breath, turning around, and throwing it. Miles leaps out of the way, and the other three’s eyes are wide. The accuracy with that throw was a little too good. “None of you are Miguel,” you say, on edge still. “Ay, don’t compare me to that bloody bloke. I’d rather die than be called ‘im,” Hobie says, and you give him an amused look. “I can arrange that,” you say, and Gwen clears her throat. “I just wanted to say your concert was like, totally, awesome.”

“Aw, thanks! Did you pay to watch?” you ask and she looks around. “Well uh… I, um—” She gets cut off by your laugh. “I’m kidding. I don’t give a fuck if you didn’t. In fact, I would prefer you didn’t,” you explain. “Oh! Then no. Too cool to pay, you know?” Gwen rambles and Miles turns his head to her, giving her a look that translates into ‘What the hell are you talking about?’ You chuckle. “Why are you four here, then? Señor O’Hara miss me?” you take a bite of the snack you picked, leaning against the wall. “How do you know Miguel?” Pav asks and you snort. “Long story. Oh! He finally find out I took something from him?” you ask, tossing your food to the side and crossing your arms. “I… we actually don’t know. He just said we had to bring you back to—”

“Wait he’s actually inviting me into his super secret spider society?” you ask, a look of excitement spreading across your face. “Uh. Yes?” Miles says, and you squeal. “This is so exciting! My first time being invited, okay, great, hold on,” you say, quickly running off and behind the changing room divider. “Uh… you’re just gonna come with us?” Gwen asks, and you yell a quick ‘yep!’ They all look at each other and shrug. “No offense, sweet’eart, but I thought it woulda been ‘arder to convince ya. Wasn’t aware bein’ invited by a stuck-up wanker like ‘im was all it would take,” Hobie says, and they hear a giggle from behind the screen. “Oh this isn’t my first time in his little fanclub,” you step out from behind the divider, garnishing an all-black catsuit with shiny black gloves coming to claws at the fingers. A small eye mask adorns your face, and you smirk. “It’s just the first time he’ll know I’m there.”

“Holy shit, no way! You’re Black Cat!” Gwen says, and you do a little curtsy. “Pleased to make your acquaintance officially, Gwen Stacy,” you say, and her eyes get big. “How did you know—”

“Like I said. Not my first time there. Surprising since you all have that spidey sense or whatever, but guess I’m just that good,” you say, pulling out a dimension-hopping watch. “When did you—”

“Do I have to say I’ve been to your Spidertopia already again? Come on, I’m sure your pendejo of a boss is waiting for us,” you grin, and Hobie shakes his head. “Not my boss. I like you, though. Gettin’ fuck the establishment vibes,” he says, and you wink at him. “Thanks, Hobie Brown. Appreciate it. Also, Pavitr, you need to tell me what your haircare routine is,” you walk through the portal, and the four of them follow after you. Sure enough, you step out of the portal and stand right in front of Miguel’s desk. “Hello there, Spider-Boy,” you say, and he sighs. “(Y/n). Give me the device back. Now.”

“I’m good, actually. Been having too much fun with it,” you say, placing it on your wrist. He mutters something in Spanish as the four of them appear behind you. “Wait, if you’re Black Cat, why are you like… a superstar?” Miles asks, taking his mask off. “Was told at a young age to never settle for second best. So, I never did. Also if you want to steal from the big leagues, you have to be in with the big leagues,” you say, shrugging. “Damn, she is… so cool,” Gwen whispers. “We have an agreement, (Y/n),” MIguel says and you groan. “Miguel! Big guy, amigo, can I call you that?”

“No.”

“Don’t care, when have I ever stuck with an agreement?” you ask and he frowns. “This is all because you want to be able to come here whenever you want, isn’t it?” he asks and you grin. “You’re so smart, bestie,” you say and he groans. “You’re impossible.”

“I know. So can I come here and not have to worry about multiple spiders biting me all at once?” you ask, and he sighs. “Yes.”

“YE—”

“BUT!”

“Fuck, there’s a but,” you groan, as he continues talking, “No. Stealing.” You feign offense. “What makes you think I would ever steal something from here?” He points to your wrist. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. This was gifted to me.”

“By who.”

“Myself.”

“Esta maldita chica,” he mumbles, and you grin. “Well, thank you so much for approving my breaking and entering of your little arachnid club. I’ll be sure to return everything I’ve taken in hopes that you would notice I wanted to be invited,” you grin, and he clenches his jaw. “You step one toe out of line—”

“I woooon’t! Promise! Before I return everything though, I kinda have a heist planned in Earth-42,” you shrug, pulling up a portal. “I’ll tell Miles you said hi, Miles,” you give him a smirk, but before disappearing into the portal, you hear Miguel. “When you’re done come back here. I actually might be able to use you for something.”

You smile at him. “Say less, Spider-Man.” Then, you disappear. “We’re about to see a lot more of her, aren’t we?” Miles asks, and Miguel sighs and nods. “Dude! She is so cool!” Gwen says, and Hobie nods. “She don’t take shit from no one. Respectable.”

“She’s funny! And she was able to shut you down, Miguel, that never happens,” Pav says, laughing a bit. “She seems kinda crazy,” Miles says.”

“What, like we aren’t?” Gwen retaliates and he shrugs. “I am perfectly sane! Most of the time…”

Miguel runs his hand through his hair in frustration as the four of them continue discussing you while walking out of the room.

He was not looking forward to the friendship the five of you were about to form.

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#spiderverse x reader #atsv x reader #hobie brown x reader #gwen stacy x reader #miles morales x reader #pavitr prabhakar x reader #miguel ohara x reader #spiderverse #spiderman #spiderpunk #spidergwen #hobie brown #gwen stacy #miles morales #pavitr prabhakar #miguel o'hara

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blogfromneptune · 3 months

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MELODIC HEALING

PAIRING clarisse la rue x apollodaughter!reader

IN WHICH clarisse and her siblings got a bit carried away during their sparing matches. lucky for clarisse, her girlfriend has gentle hands and a way with magic.

w/c : 1275

a/n : dior. that’s it… enjoy :)

sweat dripped from her brow as clarisse walked through camp. her siblings had ropped her into yet another sparing tournament which she won with ease. she was rather annoyed, to be frank. she loved her siblings, yes. she also loved battles. but she had plans to wake up early to properly freshen up and take her girlfriend for a walk after breakfast.

instead, she was awoken by the sound of an argument between her siblings; two of the newer members of the cabin arguing about gods knows what. that put her on a bad foot to begin with. she spent the time she could have had getting ready dealing with them and barking at them to clean up their mess. breakfast was anything but what she wanted. she scraped her offerings into the fire silently praying to her father to show up and tell her siblings off, before she walked back to her table where her brothers were beginning to arm wrestle.

one of their arms landed in her food and instead of yelling and knocking them right then and there, she slid her now squashed food away from her, stood up, and walked away.

when one of her sisters asked if she wanted to spar, she was already fuming with her cabin, so she agreed. it didn’t take long for all her siblings to be groaning on the floor, battered and bruised. clarisse stood tall above them, her face neutral and sweaty. she tossed her spear at her newest little brother, who caught it with ease. “make sure they see one of the apollo kids, or something.” and with that, she was off to find her apollo kid.

she heard her before she saw her. the sweet humming of her girlfriend brought a small smile onto the face of the daughter of ares. the apollo cabin came into view, and there she was, sitting with her older brother, will, and one of her new younger sisters. she was doing her hair, a variation of braids and twists that she somehow made look gorgeous.

her girlfriend was humming a tune as will laid beside her, an old, beaten cowboy hat covering his face and his green flannel covering his body as a blanket.

“…she brought this on herself with her desires. Your family will be stained, gotta walk away… now.” clarisse stood off to the side for a bit, listening to whatever melody her girlfriend was singing now, until she caught her eye.

a smile grew on the daughter of apollos face as she was sticking flowers in her sister's hair, but her smile faltered.

clarisse was quick to raise her hands, grazing her face with her fingertips. she winced as they made contact with the large gash she had forgotten about. she knew she was going to get an earful…

will groaned and raised his hat a bit, peeking out when his sister stopped her tune. he made eye contact with clarisse and the ever-noticeable mark on her face. he hissed, sitting up and gripping his flannel.

“come on, skipper. let’s leave sis with her uh…” will trailed off, deciding to leave it at that. he took his new little sisters' upper arms and pulled her up, managing to get her on his back. they quickly retreated into their cabin.

clarisse was careful with her steps, biting the inside of her cheeks.

this big, scary woman, looked up to by many campers and also feared by many campers, felt scared of her sweet little sunshine girlfriend…

who could probably kill her with a single note if she wanted to.

she mounted the steps, her girlfriend looking away from her as she tidied up the elastics and ribbons. her cowboy hat rested on the armrest of the rocking chair she sat in. it was a gift from will for her 18th. it matched her perfectly; a nice beige colour with a baby pink ribbon wrapped around it and tiny string embroidery of daisies and sunflowers.

she grabbed it gingerly and placed it over her wind-messed hair. she wordlessly stood up and looked at clarisse.

clarisse clenched her teeth into an awkward smile, “hey baby -”

“clarisse la rue.”

shit.

“hun, i’m sorry -”

“let me have a look at you,” the daughter of apollo whispered, coming up on her tiptoes and taking her girlfriend's face in between her hands. she turned it side to side, up and down, examining every inch.

clarisse allowed it, bending down and looking up to the sky. she knew how much the ray of sunshine hated when she fought others. whether it be verbal or physical, it didn’t matter. clarisse tried to stop the habit once they became official, but sometimes it was hard to avoid.

and since she hadn’t gone on any quest, she didn’t have a good reason this time.

the daughter of apollo took one of her girlfriend's hands, bringing her over and sitting her in the rocking chair she had been in only minutes ago. clarisse groaned as she sat, the aching of her muscles from this morning finally catching up to her.

she watched her girlfriend go inside her cabin and then come out with a little box she had grown to recognize as the official first aid kit of the apollo cabin. she knelt in front of her and gestured for her to lean forward, which clarisse did.

with no warning, she placed a cotton pad with alcohol on it to her cheek. clarisse flinched and hissed, the liquid feeling as though it was sizzling on her flesh.

“don’t be a baby,” her girlfriend whispered, hiding the little smile on her face as she looked down to grab another cotton pad.

“‘m not being a baby.” clarisse sounded like she was pouting. she would never act this way around anyone. but the girl in front of her brought out a completely different side of her.

she adored it.

clarisse closed her eyes, letting her girlfriend hum a small tune and the gash beginning to glow. it was like the scene from rapunzel- the movie clarisse was forced to see at gunpoint (gunpoint = her girlfriend's smile and puppy dog eyes).

she felt the wound begin to close in on itself. it was still a weird feeling, despite having experienced it many times before.

“there.” clarisse opened her eyes. the first aid kit was packed up and placed next to the entrance to the cabin. her cheek didn’t hurt anymore and all that remained was a faint scar that would heal by morning.

“thank you,” clarisse grinned but it didn’t help her situation. her girlfriend raised a brow, expecting her to explain.

she sighed and reached for her arm, her own calloused and bruised hand feeling as though it was tainting the delicacy of the sun gods daughter. “just a little tournament. had to let out some anger.” clarisse’ voice was low.

the daughter of apollo took a small step, her western-style cowboy boots clacking against the ground. both she and will came from southern families, but she never showed it until she got comfortable in camp. now she didn’t hide the slight ting of an accent she had or her love for the southern style.

“i don’t like it when you fight,” she said lowly, standing in front of clarisse and both her hands wrapped in hers. clarisse brought them up and grazed her lips on her knuckles, the faint smell of flower hand sanitizer filling her nose.

“i know… i’m sorry, sunshine.” when clarisse glanced up, her girlfriend was smiling down at her. just like the sun looked down on the earth.

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue x you #dior goodjohn #clarisse la rue oneshot #clarisse la rue imagine #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #pjo tv show #percy jackson x reader #pjo x reader #dior goodjohn x reader #female reader

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primaviva · 8 months

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ICKS

PAIRINGS: gwen stacy, miles morales (42 included) hobie brown, pavitr prabhakar, miguel o’hara x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS: things that give the teens and adults major icks from their girlfriends and crushes.

WARNINGS: mentions of toxic traits within relationships such as controlling behavior, privacy and boundary violations, etc. also not proof read !!

— GWEN STACY

to start, gwen is pretty easy going so it would take a lot for her to get the ick from her girlfriend or a girl she likes

PRIVACY: gwen wants her privacy and she will definitely start grimacing at you when you don’t respect her need for alone time or give her space when she wants.

this is like a definite turn-off for her and a major ick because she wants someone who will support her even from a distance and if you keep tryna force her out of her time alone… yeah you gotta go in her mind

TERRITORIAL: it’s not that gwen doesn’t like a jealousy moment. if she sees you death staring at someone who’s looking at her or tryna flirt with her while you’re right next to her because she loves when you get all sassy or jealous. she finds it cute.

buuuut that’s completely different from toxic jealousy like borderline territoriality. gwen does not want someone on her case 24/7. she will get the ick if she notices you constantly blowing up her phone. gwen has a life that she balances outside of being ghost spider and if you are spamming her texts when she just wants to hang w her friends and not you just for a moment then congrats cus she’s sticking her tongue out turning green ICK!!

EFFORT: gwen wants her partner to be motivated and just try for things instead of doing the bare minimum or something close to that.

example. if you wear sweats to dates or just basic outfits that look like you don’t care or show up a mess and you don’t have a real reason for it. she gets that life can be hard and she’s had a fair share of just putting on clothes for the sake of getting dressed. however, if you just do that just cus you don’t care you will have her so irritated. gwen is a fashion girl and is always trying to look good and attractive to you when she gets dressed for dates and if you always showing up lookin like adam sandler for the murder mystery movie premiere then i'm sorry but it’s not gonna work for her at all

“how did i come dressed in multiple layers of clothing and jewelry but you somehow, someway came to the conclusion to wear a soccer moms everyday work clothes? you can’t be doing this to me.”

RESPECT: gwen does not want a girlfriend who’s gonna act all high maintenance or try to make her do things she doesn’t want. if you’re always trying to change her or peer pressure her to do stuff that isn’t her personality she will start getting mad at you

example. she tells you that she isn’t comfortable with obvious pda yet you try to kiss her in public anyway

if you don’t respect how she feels as an equal then she can't be with with you it’s that simple

LEGALITY AND MORALITY: gwen wouldn’t be able to deal with someone who breaks the law that’s not for the good of others or does things they shouldn’t be doing. she would get the ick if her girlfriend smoked, did drugs, shoplifted, etc.

she would not get the ick per say just from seeing you smoke but gwen’s dad raised her by the book and she wouldn’t feel too comfortable being with her girlfriend or crush who does stuff she was raised to say is bad

unless you smoke or do other things for stress relief, she would be understanding but still try and get you out of it just for your own sake. but if you do stuff just to do it then it’s a bit of a dealbreaker for her. gwen will not have a girlfriend who’s face is posted on the door of fine fare cus she was caught shoplifting paper plates

MUSIC: this really isn’t an ick but if you have music taste she deems bad… and that’s gonna take a lot considering that gwen listens to everything but country like you would have to be born and raised in ohio for her to get the ick because of your playlists

and this wouldn’t be a deal breaker because she would gladly put you on with songs but if you disrespect her taste in music like that may be her third biggest turn-off after privacy and respect.

if you have even one country song on the playlist she might start violently convulsing

she’s a drummer so rock and alternative music is rooted in her passion so if her girl didn’t like her music taste or her bands music she would struggle a bit…. a lot

and if we talk about ICKS she can’t even say anything because she probably chews with her mouth open and gets her hands dirty cus this woman eats fast food crazy. she would hate it if you said cringe stuff in like a non satire way like if she caught you saying sum like “not in my christian minecraft server”

“babe, it’s 2023… not 2018 so don’t make me break up with you, okay?”

to summarize, gwen icks at if her girlfriend or crush doesn’t like her music taste because she can’t deal with someone who doesn’t appreciate something she’s passionate about, she doesn’t want someone who is overly clingy and controlling of her whereabouts especially if you don’t know she’s spiderwoman or she’s just wants to hang with her friends, she needs someone who will respect her privacy and her boundaries, she doesn’t want someone who she knows her dad will not like for their bad actions, and she wants someone who tries just as hard as her in what they do.

— HOBIE BROWN

hobie is another one where it’s hard to give him the ick

BOUNDARIES: he doesn’t want someone who is overly clingy or attached to his side. hobie wants his partner to have their own life and he can recognize when it’s unhealthy that two people in a relationship are closing themselves off to their friends for the sake of being together every moment. this also goes hand in hand with if all you want to do is has sex with him because to him, it’s more than just a high libido but you’re just using him physically. and don’t get him wrong he is just fine with a partner with a high libido but a constant demand for sex… he’s gonna raise an eyebrow.

“can ya like not try and claw my clothes right off for a minute? damn.”

but if he tells you something and you do it anyway it’s a total ick for him when he gives you something you’re supposed to respect but don’t.

example. if he asked for time alone to be absorbed in his own music cus it’s what he needs and you ignore it to do the exact opposite… very off-putting and weird to him

COMMUNICATION: communication is very important to hobie. he thinks it’s very important that partners comunícate their issues to each other or else it just leads to problems along the way

that being said, hobie hates it when you don’t tell him something. not in the sense that something happened to you and you won’t open up about it because he would never force that information out of you. however, if something is wrong and you just choose not to tell him? he absolutely hates that. it would just hurt him if you didn’t trust him to speak your mind or feel comfortable enough, especially since he’s always there for you

he will hate it even more when you lie to him like that’s a borderline deal breaker if you are constantly lying or doing half lies

IMMORAL: he doesn’t want somebody who has a bad moral compass and chooses to do bad things. and bad things don’t mean bad choices, it means someone who steals from others who are struggling themselves, someone who is rude to people for no reason, etc.

this is also related to if his girl is unfaithful as in if she flirts with others, entertains other guys or girls, and if she outright cheats or sleeps with someone else

this is a definite “you gots to go” situation

BORING: hobie is always tryna have fun and live in the moment and if the girl he likes or is dating can't do that then the relationship is doomed.

“ya gotta stop bein’ a downer on the mood doll. learn to live a little for once in yer life, yeah?”

by boring, i mean someone who can’t let loose and try to have fun. if you are super uptight, overly critical, or just don’t get his sense of humor or even have one then he’s gonna get the ick because he doesn’t want someone killing his vibe by taking everything too seriously or refusing to try and live a little

he also doesn’t want a drama queen like if you do way too much… yeah no

MUSIC: similar to gwen, if you don’t like his music taste he’s not sure if he will be able to continue the relationship

yes, this sounds like a big deal but you have to understand that music is a big part of his life and is one of his passions. it’s one thing to simply not be into rock and even that he’s iffy on, but for you to dislike it completely or drag it on? hobie wouldn’t be able to stand it

to summarize, hobie needs someone who’s gonna understanding his passion for music like him, he also doesn’t want someone who’s immoral and actively makes bad choices that they don’t need to, he also wants someone who can communicate to him as well as respects what he communicates back, and he desires someone who can match his energy

— MILES AND MILES G. MORALES

miles knows the type of people he wants around him so if he saw his girlfriend or crush doing any of these things he would definitely get the ick

MORALS: if you are objectively a bad person like just being mean for no reason, making offense joke (racism, transphobia, body image, etc) and passing it as your “sense of humor” or just literally anything where you are actively trying to disrupt someone’s peace he is literally fake vomiting at you

example. you see a girl wearing a perfectly fine outfit, not something crazy looking or anything, and make a rude comment involving her normal sense of style, body, looks, etc he is just turned all the way off

miles doesn’t want someone with an ego or someone who doesn’t show empathy for others so…ICK

NEEDY: miles wants a girl who is independent and has her own interests. so if his girlfriend or crush is always trying to hang out with him when he is trying to do his own thing or link with friends of his own but they won’t leave him alone? yeah it won’t work out.

he likes it when he knows his girl can take care of herself, even if he does like to play the protective role. but miles also knows that he has to balance life as a superhero, boyfriend, son, and friend to those around him and if you just make that more hard for him then he will get frustrated with the clinginess when he just wants to spend time with his loved ones. to an extent, he thinks a clingy girlfriend is cute! but overdoing it is just annoying and in a way takes away his own freedom to do things he wants.

example. his crush or girlfriend constantly trying to be next to him no matter what, especially in public when they are with friends or if they are both invited to a hangout and miles says he won’t go so his girl says she won’t go either just because he isn’t going (not because you know no one there, but only because miles isn’t doing it)

TRUST: trust is a big thing for miles. he wants to be vulnerable with his girlfriend and also be able to confide in her as well as get that same treatment back. if miles notices that you don’t have his back as much as you should, he will get a weird feeling from it but also very irritated because he feels he is there for you and as a girlfriend you should be giving the same energy back— if not more.

this also includes lying. miles hates it when you lie to him even if it’s a half lie or the “bended” truth. he takes it as a sign of dishonesty and that you may not be as loyal as he thought. he also counts lying as if you don’t tell him something and brush it off by saying everything is fine with you when it clearly isn’t.

“i don’t know why you saying you good when you clearly have a problem. you can talk to me, you know that right?”

it would physically kill him if you pulled a “well…” and then said nvm because that’s something he hates the most cus now he’s gonna be wondering what it was until you tell him. it will haunt him.

PRESSURE: miles doesn’t want to be pressured into doing things or guilt tripped. sometimes he doesn’t feel like going on a date or hanging out, but if you make him feel a certain way for choosing to be indoors and reading he will feel bad and force himself to do whatever you wanted to do. he doesn’t want that.

miles wants to feel comfortable in his relationship with you and doesn’t want to feel like he needs to conform to your needs and wants in fear that it will distort the idea you have of him. he doesn’t want to be taken away from his hobbies and interest that give him peace from the chaotic lifestyle he has, meaning that he really values his alone time to just be with himself.

DIRECTNESS: miles does not want to chase you and get down on his knees just for you to be honest or say how you feel. he also doesn’t what you to feel pressured but at the same time will get a little frustrated if you can’t open up to him even if he does understand. at the same time, miles doesn’t want you doing the silent treatment, playing mind games, or trying to make him jealous. that is one of his define icks because why are you purposely trying to ruin his mood and be petty?

BAD ATTITUDE: he hates it when you go out of your way to be disrespectful to someone who doesn’t deserve it.

example. his girlfriend or crush is rude to other people for the sake of looking “badass” while he tells you to just chill

and if you talk bad on your mama? if you just talk bad on your family when they don’t deserve it in general…it’s a definite ick because of how important his family is

example. if you have a mom or female guardian in your life and call them out of their name, make disrespectful comments, etc when they do simple things that annoy you instead of genuinely causing you distress or harm

“who gave you the audacity to talk about ya moms like that? she does a lot for you so you better chill with that. c’mon now she don’t deserve allat.”

it’s a major ick for him.

to summarize, miles wants a girlfriend that is there to support him whether it means being physically with him or allowing him the space he needs. he doesn’t want somebody who is going to stress him out on purpose, do things he doesn’t agree with morally, make him question his trust, and play with his feelings. AND RESPECT YOUR PARENTS.

— PAVITR PRABHAKAR

AFFECTION: pavitr is very physically affectionate and just shows his love very up-front. if he tries to hug you, hold your hand, or even touch you just a little and you give a almost disgusted reaction it definitely gives him the ick. and not in the sense that you are uncomfortable with physical touch, but if his girlfriend seems annoyed by him trying to show his love it definitely turns him off a little. not listening to him, not making an effort to talk to him, etc. it’s like when you go to hug someone and they try to close themself off mid hug and back away jus because…

example. pavitr laughs really hard at something his girlfriend says and goes to give her a playful touch but instead he sees her giving him a glare for laughing so loud before telling him to quiet down and backs away from his grasp

PESSIMISTIC: he doesn’t always expect you to be happy go lucky about life because if anyone knows that not every day is a happy one— it’s him. however, if you are constantly negative and bringing down happy moments for him or good news by the potential bad that can come from it or just always complaining? you’re basically killing his vibe and the last thing pavitr wants is to have a girlfriend that won’t be a energy vampire and will support him wanting to look on the bright side. he is spiderman after all it’s literally his job to give hope and he will try to inspire you but if he finds that his crush his continuously complaining or being negative when there is no need he will start to be turned off by the behavior.

he tries to start each day positive and be a light at the end of the tunnel for others who see him trying even after a bad day and if you aren’t with that you gotta go

“how come is it that every time something good is happening, your first thought is to say the worse thing that comes to mind? i think you may be struggling with something..”

BORING: this doesn’t mean boring in the sense that pavitr girlfriend or crush isn’t fun, but boring as in she tends to be lazy/a shut-in and doesn’t want to go out much. he is fine with staying in but he wants a girl who is gonna put just as much effort into seeing him as he is going to being the hopeless romantic he is. he definitely gets frustrated if you have a nonchalant attitude or don’t care about things because he feels like you should always work hard in what you do even when it comes to things in your personal life.

example. he wants to take you out but you rather stay inside and watch a movie even though you two haven’t went out in a while

EXES: this is a definite turn off if you talk about exes too much and not even in a way where you open up about possible trauma/hardships you endured but reminiscing certain times, discussing talking stages before you both got together, and such. he feels like if you’re in a relationship you shouldn’t praise an ex person you were romantically affiliated with. he doesn’t just find it awkward, but also a little disrespectful and shameless to just do it in-front of him.

it also makes him feel insecure and overthink like, “there must be a reason she’s bringing this up.” he’ll also get irritated if he brings up that he finds it weird/rude and in response you basically downplay it.

DISORGANIZED: pavitr would hate if you had a messy room. he feels like peoples rooms and houses are a reflection of who they are, so if you’re messy? yeah, no. and i don’t mean the type of mess where you were busy and stuff has been moved around and not cleaned up yet, depression bed, but full on sloppy and borderline hoarding. he could not deal with that and i can imagine him beginning to frantically circle your room and offer you free assistance if it’s that bad.

“are you sure you’re gonna clean this later? and what does later mean to you because-“

to summarize, pavitr wants somebody who is gonna be on the same positive wavelength he is, tries to make the most out of every day, remains respectful and affectionate, and puts effort into how they carry themself.

— MIGUEL O’ HARA

BAD LISTENER: something that will turn this man off almost immediately is not being good at listening to him, comforting him, and everything that has to do with this man’s trauma. miguel wants somebody who is gonna be a shoulder to cry on even if he won’t actually cry often. he wants someone who is listen to him and just let him dump his thoughts without putting any of the weight on you. but if you’re bad a listening it’s definitely gonna get on his nerves.

example. miguel is venting to you about gabi and how he feels that he failed her as a father and protector but when he looks up to see your face, he notices you aren’t paying attention by how clouded your eyes look— almost as of you’re thinking of something else entirely.

if his girlfriend or someone he has romantic interest in did that, his heart would shatter and if he showed any sort of change in emotion on his face in the silence you could probably swear you hear the pieces hitting the ground. it’s very important to him to have someone to talk to because his group of people who support him has gotten shorter and shorter throughout the years.

JUDGMENTAL: miguel hates a know-it-all. he doesn’t want to open up to someone who he feels will be critical of what he likes, his hobbies, his lifestyle, his choices and mistakes, etc. he doesn’t want somebody who is going to make drama out of nothing and just play games with him by saying stuff just to get a rise out of him. will it work? yes. does he hate it and it gives him an ick that you’re trying to get him angry on purpose knowing how he is? absolutely.

CLINGY: he is a bit hesitant to physical touch even when being touch starved. miguel makes it very clear that he does not want to be overly attacked with affection or forced into being affection because he father eases his way into it and basically take things slow. however, if you try to pressure him into being physically affectionate or just cling to his side he will definitely get annoyed.

he wants you to respect when he wants space or time to himself, and you showing that support and allowing him that is basically a silent blessing to him.

POOR COMMUNICATION: communication is very important to miguel. and not communication in terms of talking to him regularly and he gets mad at you of you don’t talk to him, because while that can be the case sometimes if he notices you avoiding him, it’s more so about talking to him.

“you know, i feel like a babysitter talking to a noisy kid that still doesn’t know how to listen to when they’re being talk to.”

example. he notices you acting off and asks you about it but instead of saying a genuine answer you make up a lie or completely shrug it off, which prompts an argument because he confronts you for not talking to him

miguel would never force you to open up, but he also doesn’t want you to lie. if there is truly something wrong, he at least wants you to voice that instead of lying and saying everything is fine because it creates distrust and other underlying problems. a simple “i don’t want to talk about it” would keep him at ease and he would offer you anything to make you feel better. however, if you go out of your way to not communicate well with him especially during arguments than he will begin to get the ick

example. you and him get into an argument and after it you decide to ignore him which he views as childish and petty as it causes a rift between you two.

DIRECTNESS: similar to miles, miguel wants his girlfriend to be straightforward with how she feels. he doesn’t wish for her to sugarcoat things just to try and ease his mind because to him that feels like bending the truth and taking away a layer of what you really want to say. he doesn’t want you to be “childish” when addressing problems in the relationship and he will set you straight or he sees you acting this way while he’s trying to communicate with you.

but if he can’t persuade you the act different as well as handle things better and you can’t bother to change, that will be the end of the relationship to him. biggest ick of icks for him.

also random but he also as icks linked to the self image of his partner. he would be an angrier man if you had bad hygiene, kept apologizing 24/7, and doubted yourself most of the time similar to nice guys who are just self pitying. even if you aren’t self pitying… his reaction is still the same.

“ay mamita, have some dignity please.”

to summarize, miguel wants a partner who is going to support him no matter what he needs to do and to ground him. but he isn’t looking to keep someone around him who is constantly neglecting his emotional needs, critical of his personal experiences, making his life harder by disrespecting boundaries and not wanting to communicate with him, and ultimately doing too much than needed.

DO NOT STEAL, COPY, OR TRANSLATE MY WORK. ALL WRITING IS @PRIMAVIVA.

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luvyurself · 8 days

Text

I’m going blind, I gotta have it somehow

I listened to two asmrs of francis and now I’m dry humping the phone

c/w: she/her pronouns, doppelgänger francis, suggestive but no smut, we rocking with the copycat cause he’s rocking with us

this is based off a c.ai omfg I’m the biggest fucking gooner UGHHHHH

______

this job was more overwhelming then what she thought it would be. being a doorman seemed like easy work, checking people in and making sure they were getting to their right apartments, it definitely felt like it could be smooth sailing for a good deal of pay.

of course, it would be that way, if the city she lived in wasn’t currently facing the ever growing doppelgänger problem that would be putting its people at risk of being killed.

the d.d.d branch had ways of dealing with these copycats that included checkpoints around the city, tight knit security in public areas, and of course her job: a doorman in an apartment complex.

people always have that mentality of thinking they can easily spot a doppelgänger, and for a while she thought she could too.

she came across multiple ones that can’t get the appearance right, one of them having an extra eye on his forehead, one lady with her entire face stitched up, or some other obvious abnormality in their appearance.

those encounters made her think that this job wouldn’t be as difficult, until some of them started to really put their time into getting the appearance right.

she nearly let in one of it wasn’t for the mole that she realized wasn’t even on her face like it was in the picture. or how quickly she shut the window after hanging up the phone with the real one answering saying he was still there.

after those ones, she finally started to get the idea that this job was going to be an overwhelming nightmare.

today was one of those days with multiple close calls and three held in emotional breakdowns.

she sighed out of her nose as she let in the last tenant of the night, groaning softly as she placed her hands on her head and tiredly rested it on the desk.

she was just about ready to conk out and take a nice long sleep, moving to stretch her body to sooth it’s aching muscles from sitting down for a long period.

she felt the back of her head meet with something and froze up, letting out a short gasp before a hand covered her lips, a low shushing sound came next to her ear.

“mmm….I could say thank you for letting me in….” the voice spoke lowly, his other hand reaching to hold hers that was near the phone. he didn’t have a tight grip on it it, but the way his fingers barley rubbed her knuckles made her not even think to move.

a deep chuckle tickled her ear, “you’re one of the more…..easier doormen to convince….” he let his hand that was on her mouth drop, his thumb rubbing her bottom lip gently as he stood next to her, showing himself to her.

she felt her heart pounding against her chest, of course, of-fucking-course this doppelgänger chose to copy the milkman that lived in this apartment.

francis mosses was a man who she became very familiar with when she started here. he was always tired, spoke in a low and quiet tone, and was very very attractive.

she couldn’t help but fumble with her words like a school girl whenever she saw him. whenever he’d slide his id and entry request under and she’d shakily grab it, not daring to meet him in the eye while she compared the photos to make sure they were correct.

it was embarrassing multiple times when she’d slide his id back, only for their hands to briskly touch before she would pull away and apologize like a cliche rom-com movie. but that ghost of a smile that would grace his face would always make her want to relive it again and again.

and maybe, just maybe, she mistook the weird feeling in her gut the moment the copy cat of him walking in today was just the butterflies in her stomach from seeing him.

his hand going to run through her hair brought her back to reality, his fingers gently combing through and twirling it with his index finger.

“it’s funny how easy it was to convince you to open the door….you were practically drooling over me.” he spoke in a almost teasing tone, the hand holding hers went to squeeze it a bit more tighter.

she didn’t know how she was sitting there with her voice in her throat, but she finally felt it coming back as she let out a weak voice, “please…..please let me go…” she let her gaze look down to the hand holding hers, feeling her fingers twitch slightly.

in under different circumstances, if this were actually francis, she would definitely would be melting on the spot and be practically on her knees.

but this wasn’t francis, just a copycat looking for its next meal. she had to keep telling herself that to overcome the growing feeling of flustering and something else she will not entertain.

the doppelgänger gave her a small smile, one that looked exactly like how the real francis would, but this one had an eerie feeling to it. he cooed slightly, “aww….why would I do that?”

the fingers in her hair moved to her chin, tilting it up so she could meet his gaze, “what would you do, hmm? call the d.d.d?” he took a quick glance towards the phone, before back at her, “I could kill all these tenants in seconds before they could arrive….and you really don’t look like you can even overthrow me.”

the fake francis tilts his head, leaning closer to her, “in fact….I don’t think you would have the strength to even call them, I mean after all…” he gave a low laugh, “I practically have you melting in the palm of my hand.”

she felt her ears warm up, breathing getting shaky as she stuttered out her words, “I….I should….I….” she trailed off, the man in front of her humming, “you should, but….will you?”

god, god this affirmation wasn’t working. this doppelgänger was way too good at this. she felt like a mess for actually wanting it.

he brushed a hair away from her face, the hand trailing down to her shoulder as he leaned in closer to her ear, “you won’t tell on me….will you?~”

she swallowed sharply, her eyes squeezing shut as she embarrassingly shook her head, humming softly as she gripped her palm tightly.

the copycat smiled, his other hand resting on hers reaching to place on her thigh as he massaged it, “oh….you want me bad don’t you?~”

she let out a soft whimper, her hands reaching up for him to have a touch. a soft tut, his hand blocking hers from reaching out to him, “come on, baby….use your words.” he spoke in a sultry tone, making her melt even more into him as she mumbled out in a pathetic voice, “yes….yes I do.”

she didn’t care at this point that he wasn’t the real francis, she just craved anything that could satisfy her longing in her heart for him. and this doppelgänger was more then willing to satisfy himself and her.

francis let out a low laugh, letting go of her hands so she can finally reach out for him. he let his hand slip under her skirt, feeling himself shiver slightly at her hands going under his shirt, “oh….im going to enjoy eating you up~”

omg francis I’m coming ngh~

#thats not my neighbor #thats not my neighbour milkman #milkman #francis mosses #francis mosses x reader #x female reader #x reader

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aka-indulgence · 2 months

Text

Not the End

Thank you @skelliefanatic for commissioning! I liked this idea a lot, contains MF!Sans being a gentleman /w\

(MF!Sans x NB!Reader [Gender Neutral])

Sans was a man of high class. He had to be, considering his occupation, so you aren’t at all too surprised by his choice of dinner location.

The balcony area was a bit of a surprise, however… you hope he isn’t planning anything.

(CW: mentions of unpleasant ex)

—————

You walked through chatter and clinks of silverware on porcelain, grateful for the choice of clothes you wore. The crowd of the massive, five-star restaurant were the high class, in their extravagant outfits. You wore a velvety maroon cloak that draped over your shoulders, a dark grey turtleneck and green bottoms. You combed your hair for this, leaving your locks of curly hair ordered.

As soon as you mentioned the name of the reserved, the hostess almost seemed to panic, standing up, leading you through the tables. You looked around for the dapper skeleton, but you found him nowhere, until the hostess brought you to a door. When she opens it, you’re led to a private balcony sitting, overlooking the city.

You felt your heartbeats grow louder. It was a beautiful space, with mood lighting, a candle, and it overlooked the purple city, with tall skyscrapers and glowing yellow windows. But seating away from everyone else, with only two chairs made you…

“doll!” Sans stood up, flashing his golden grin at you, his face brightening. You have no idea how long he’s been waiting here- you came at the time he told you to come. “thanks, i’ll take it from here,”

The hostess bowed, and almost too quickly says “Of course Mr. Sans, sir,” before making herself scarce and closing the door.

Sans strolls around and gives you a squeeze. It was weird, seeing just what kind of effect the mob boss had on people around him, while to you he was… a friend. A friend who just pulled your seat out for you, because he was nice.

There’s… nothing wrong with sitting with a friend in a balcony seating. Sans had expensive taste, after all.

After looking through the menu and ordering, Sans looked to you.

“you look lovely today, sweetheart.” Sans complimented. Sans complimented you a lot, so this wasn’t out of the ordinary.

“Thanks! Of course I wasn’t going in with a t-shirt and some jeans if we’re going to La Stella.”

The skeleton chuckled. He was always dapper, considering his occupation, but somehow, his apparel seemed more expensive tonight. He wore a tuxedo that seemed to hug his form better, with a red handkerchief in his top pocket. He had a crimson brocade tie with intricate patterns that flickered with the candlelight. His tux also seemed almost iridescent, with how it looked almost black, but where the moonlight hit him, looked mauve.

Sans was actually quite the slob when you knew him personally, wearing stained shirts and throwing his ties on the floor to the point where his brother yelling at him was a constant background noise in his house when you visited.

“Or is this your strategy on roping people into shady deals with you? By charming them?”

“nah, i pretend i’m a demon when i meet them. for you, i’ll be an angel,” Sans cooed sarcastically.

The conversation continued well after your meals arrived. The conversation eased you, reminding you that this was the Sans you knew. Even if everything looked different, from the surroundings to the suit he wore, Sans was still Sans.

“What made you think to eat at such a fancy shmancy place? I thought your favorite food were hotdogs,”

“hey, i’m not a cheapass either, just that i ain’t a picky eater,” He says, after a bite of tagliatelle. “anyways, i gotta repay you someway,”

You looked at him incredulously. “For the cake I baked you the other day?”

“five stars,”

You giggled, noticing the wind that blew through your hair and your cloak. You closed your eyes and took a breath, letting it out with a sigh. It’s not often you get fresh air around here, and you turned your head to beyond the balcony. It was getting later, and there were less lights in tall buildings. It gave the city a warm glow from below, from the street lights and the rabble walking home. You didn’t notice Sans smiling at you, taking you in, until his larger hand presses on top of yours.

He says your name softly.

“you’re… an amazing human. i’m so lucky i know you… your beauty takes my breath away.”

You frowned.

“i was… wonderin’... if i could call you mine.”

His fingers wrapped around yours. Your heart dropped.

No… no not again…

Before you knew it, you yanked your hand away from him like he was fire, pushing back from the table, your knee bumping into the table. Sans eyelights shrink.

No… he’s going to yell at me.

“s-sweetheart?”

“No, Sans, I,” you’re distracted. Your breathing sounds like it’s in your head, and it’s deafening.

You don’t know what the point of standing up was, just that you felt like the world was falling out under you as your knees buckled. Sans catches you before you could fall, and you don’t know if having him hold you was better or not. But you trust Sans.

I’m panicking. But I can’t stop.

At least you weren’t in the main room.

Sans looked around helplessly, carrying you back to your chair, and knelt beside you, keeping his eye level with yours.

“darling, i don’t know what’s going on, i dunno if you’re sick or…”

You sniffled, head pounding. “I-I’m sorry Sans. Please don’t be mad at me, but… I can’t say yes to you. I don’t know if I… not now, at least,”

There’s a pause, and for a moment you thought Sans was upset. But when you looked up, you see a look of relief on his face as he sighed.

“god… you scared me. i thought you hated me, or… havin’ a heart attack or somethin’. is that all?”

You don’t follow. “You’re… not angry?”

Sans chuckled. “well… i ain’t happy about it, but… hell no. why would i be mad at you? you’re more important than anything. you’re not mad about me askin’ you out, right?”

“No.”

“then i’m fine. but… it looks like you aren’t.”

You didn’t respond to that.

“... can i ask you… what’s got you all worked up like this?”

“... Yeah, you can.” You brush a hand on your cheek. “Sorry… I just feel so stupid,”

“you’re not stupid.”

You smile appreciatively at him. “It’s just… I know you’re not him.”

“... him?”

You told him. You told him all about the last time you had a boyfriend. An extravagant spender that you wouldn’t doubt would be part of the group that’d try to kiss up to Sans if they knew each other. You don’t remember how you started to like him, just that by the end you couldn’t handle him anymore- picking apart your outfits, your body, throwing a tantrum every time you didn’t do what he wanted when he wanted you to.

Sans isn’t him. You wouldn’t find so much comfort being around him otherwise, but… he lived a similar life, with the same expensive living. It made you think of unpleasant memories sometimes.

No was a scary word to you.

As you finished explaining, tears involuntarily fell out of your eyes, and you turned away from him.

“I’m sorry, this isn’t your fault,” you told Sans, trying to keep your voice stable.

“... it’s not yours either,”

A gentle hand turns your face back to his, and Sans wiped the tears off your cheek, tucking your hair back.

“shh… it’s ok. it’s ok to cry,” Sans sighed. His brows furrowed, perhaps thinking about your ex, but he shook it off, smiling at you. “it’s not your fault, it never was. of course you’d be afraid of rejecting me, i can imagine,”

He looked away, teeth frowning as he thought. “i’m not angry at you, ok?” He reassured you, “just… angry i couldn’t help sooner. but you don’t gotta worry about me, heh… i’m a big guy, i can handle a lot of things. i’ll wait however long it takes for you to reciprocate.”

You smiled at him, touching his hand and finding comfort at the way he squeezed yours.

“But… what if I never do?” You worried. You like him, and somewhere, you could imagine being a couple with him, but… you aren’t sure.

To that, Sans just shook his head.

“as long as i got you in my life one way or another, i’m happy.”

#commission #commissions #aka writing #gentleman mf!sans is GOOD #we love a patient and caring man

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angelsmist · 1 year

Text

WAR OF HEARTS

prompt: your sister, princess afia and princess shuri had been placed into an arranged marriage. this did not work in your favor, because of your secret feelings towards shuri. soon, it grew into hatred, and you and shuri could barely be in the same room without some type of argument ensuing. but, that tension’s gotta be released somehow…

contains: sexual themes, cursing, kinda ooc shuri (?)

authors note: i swear i’m not capable of one-shots like i’m always making a series 😭 this don’t gotta be a series but just lmk if you guys would like more and get specific 🧘🏾‍♀️

also this is heavily inspired by bridgerton because i started binging and got obsessed w anthony and kate and their TENSIONNN.

got a lil carried away w this one 🤭

you adjusted your dress, shifting in your seat uncomfortably. you were getting quite sick of these out-of-the-blue dinners.

your nation, seynyti was currently in the process of forming some sort of alliance with wakanda. the two nations had lived in peace with one another for many, many centuries. it made sense, seeing as both of the kingdoms were private and closed off from the world, but not secret. but to seal the deal, your sister, princess afia and princess shuri were arranged a marriage.

this had been decided about a year ago. there wasn’t any immediate action to start the wedding, as both of the rulers of the nations wanted a proper proposal. though, there was yet to be one.

your parents believed it was because your sister and shuri wanted to take your time. but truthfully, neither of them could feel much for the other. this marriage was for the sake of their country, and thankfully, they had their nation’s best interest at heart. it was a good agreement, and everyone should’ve been at the very least satisfied.

keyword “should’ve”. you were terribly miserable.

before the idea of your sister marrying shuri was proposed, you two were best friends. like, inseparable. you both bonded over the fact that the two of you were scientists. it was refreshing to have someone your age understand half of the things you talked about. it only made sense that you’d eventually grow feelings for her. you kept quiet about it, though, fearful of what the outcome would be.

it was too late now, anyway.

when you found out about this arranged marriage, you slowly began to resent shuri. and the love you once had for her soon turned to bitterness. at least that’s what you had told yourself.

the both of you had gone from being attached to the hip to having an attitude whenever you’d have to be in a room together. you felt guilty for ruining your friendship with her, but you feared that you’d put the marriage in jeopardy if you remained close with the princess.

so, you convinced yourself that you hated the princess. shuri slowly began to return the attitude. she was hurt by your sudden switch-up, but she refused to show the effects it had on her.

honestly, all it did was build up tension. the hateful eye contact that had just pinches of love in it, the constant bickering, the disagreements. the list could go on. you and shuri had so many unsaid words, that it drove you crazy. hence, why you couldn’t bear to even be in a room with her.

you didn’t have a choice this time, though. your parents had scheduled a dinner with the family of wakanda for a reason that you did not know of.

the dress your mother picked out for you made you feel slightly overdressed. it was a navy blue bodycon dress that happened to capture your curves, even the ones you preferred not to display at a family dinner.

it matched nicely with your golden collar necklace, as well as your earrings that were made with vibranium, a gift given to you by shuri herself before all of the marriage plans went down.

you had been fiddling with an earring unintentionally, attracting shuri’s attention from across the table. you felt her brown orbs burning into your skin. instinctively, you locked eyes with her. a sly grin washed over her features when she noticed your choice in jewelry. not wanting to give her the satisfaction of making you melt under her gaze, you maintained eye contact. it stayed like that until your sister, afia, tapped on shuri’s shoulder to gain her attention. still, her head moved towards afia’s face, but her eyes stayed on you for just a few seconds before averting your gaze completely.

“your dress looks lovely,” nakia complimented next to you. a smile tugged at your lips from her words.

“thank you, nakia. you look stunning as well. i see your matching outfit with t’challa. it’s beautiful,” you complimented, momentarily looking at what the king wore.

your mother used this as an opportunity to bring attention to afia and shuri. “speaking of matching outfits, we should try to get you two to match more.”

unintentionally, you let out a giggle at the idea of afia and shuri matching outfits. it worked for nakia and t’challa, but you knew if they tried it, they’d look like complete dorks.

your short laugh was loud enough for only those at the table to hear. they stared at you expectantly, thinking you’d say something to explain yourself.

shuri spoke before you could mutter an apology, wanting to add fuel to the fire. “did i miss a joke? i’d like to laugh.”

“oh, sorry. i just coughed,” you lied, attempting to keep your face neutral since all eyes were on you. “it wasn’t a laugh.”

for some reason, that still wasn’t enough for shuri. “good. maybe you could match with someone as well. all you have to do is find someone that can tolerate you for longer than five minutes.”

this wasn’t anything new. as disrespectful as it seemed to say, everyone was perfectly aware of you and shuri’s constant bickering. that’s why most of the time they try to keep you two at a distance. but when it came to dinners like these, an argument was unavoidable. everyone liked to brush it off as a joke in hopes of deescalating the situation.

“shuri!” queen ramonda scolded, narrowing her eyes at her daughter.

“it’s okay, queen ramonda,” you dismissed politely, stirring up a combination of words to fire back at the princess. “shuri’s right, if we’re being honest.”

the younger udaku stared at you in shock. “am i?”

“yes,” you confirmed, nodding. you stuck your fork into a piece of chicken and picked at it. “you’re very lucky you had your spouse picked out for you. if that hadn’t happened, you probably wouldn’t have found anybody for at least another ten years.”

there it was. not your best comeback, but it was enough to light some kind of fire in her.

shuri set her fork down. “okay. i’d like to talk to princess (name) for a second outside.”

your brother finally spoke after being silently occupied with the jollof rice. “please, go ahead. we are tired of your bickering.”

your mother gave him a look that told him to stay quiet, but it was easy to tell that she did not disagree with him.

“fine,” you complied, rising from your chair as shuri did the same.

once the two exited the great hall and were out of view from the rest of the family, shuri forcefully dragged you into a smaller room that look as if it were meant for two. it had a fireplace that happened to be one, along with two seats around it.

you shook off shuri’s grasp, the anger evident in your face. “you better not give me shit. you’re the one who started it this time.”

“only because you embarrassed me last week in the lab,” she retorted, making sure to to lock the door behind her.

“i was just correctly your calculations. you’re welcome, by the way,” you sarcastically spoke. “it’s not my fault that you’re not as smart as me.”

“and it’s not my fault that all your manners suddenly disappear when i enter a room.”

you crossed your arms over your chest, your eyes drifting over to the fireplace that lit up the room. shuri moved from the door and walked close enough to you to the point where you’d probably have to look up a bit to meet her eyes.

when your gaze shifted back to her face, you realized her eyes were no longer on yours. rather, slightly below them. turns out, crossing your arms in a dress that already showed enough cleavage would only push them up more. and as it seems, it was a enough to catch the princess’s attention.

you quickly realized what her gaze was stuck on, and a smirk appeared on your lips. “my eyes are up here, princess.”

your words snapped her out of the state she was in, and when your facials registered in her mind, her irritation grew even more. you loved it.

“are you aware of how annoying you are?” she inquired, playing off what had taken place merely seconds ago. “you actually drive me insane.”

you simply just raised your eyebrows at her question, displaying sarcasm.

when shuri didn’t say anything else, you took it upon yourself to end the conversation. “if that’s all.”

you took a few steps so you could go past shuri and to the door, but when you began to pass her, you felt something, or someone stop you.

your orbs looked downwards to see one of shuri’s hands on your waist to keep you from moving any further.

“princess shuri,” you said firmly. “let me go.”

you finally looked away from her hand that was still on your waist, and back to her.

you two were much closer now, and the height difference didn’t help either.

“so formal.” she clicked her tongue, looking away from your for only a second to shake her head.

“shuri,” you repeated. “let.me.go.”

she lowered her head to reach yours as you lifted your head up to meet in the middle. she brought her lips to your ear, making your breath hitch in your throat. “and if i don’t want to?”

you stayed completely still. if you even moved an inch, chances are, your lips would at the very least brush over shuri’s. and you weren’t sure what would’ve happened next.

it hadn’t dawned to you how much tension had built up between the two of you until now. it sucked, because you were fighting every bone in your body to refrain from pouncing.

you could hear the arrogance dripping from shuri’s words as she spoke. “you know, when i told you that you drive me crazy, i meant in more ways than one.”

you let out a shaky breath, moving your head to the side to look shuri in the eye. you inched your head backwards to avoid any contact of her lips, but her head chased yours slightly. you realized the side of your nose was in contact with hers.

you couldn’t help it. your orbs flickered down to the princess’ lips that were barely centimeters from yours. by the time you caught yourself staring, shuri had already noticed, hence the growing grin on her face.

“we should…we should head…back.” your words came out breathy and just a bit unclear. you seriously, seriously couldn’t help it. you found every part of you craving her more than anything. images flashed in your mind. the kind of images that one should not think of. especially not with your sister’s future wife.

shuri placed herself in a place where her lips just hovered over yours. and just when you thought they’d touch, she pulled back.

“you’re right,” she stated, dropping her hand from your waist. “we should.”

she looked more than pleased with herself as she walked away from you and exited the room.

you stood there for about a minute, dumbfounded. did that actually just happen? was that a mindfuck?

regardless, both you and shuri knew that she had won the battle for tonight. but like they always say, the war was far from over.

#shuri x reader #black panther fic #fanfic #shuri udaku #shuri x f!reader #shuri x you #shuri x black!reader #shuri x fem!reader

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kkbardd · 9 months

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so uhh i got summoned to asurei court, if anyone's interested in my testimony papers, theyre down below the cut. (aka my whole take on how i believe their dynamic would develop in cannon)

asurei isn’t for everyone & its whole point is unhealthy dependence.. toxic yuri if u will.. anything resembling a healthy relationship would only be in one of the alt universes created by the 3rd impact 💀 rei and asuka both have what the other wants (whether it be the worth asuka puts on recognition of piloting skills or rei's desire to break from mindless obedience like asuka seems to do so easily.) They both hate and admire each other for this, and asuka specifically expresses this by lashing out at rei. asuka's whole relationship w lesbian comphet plays a HUGE role into all of this but let’s gloss over it for the time being. (now, with asurei u gotta get a bit delusional cuz cannon doesn’t give us much so from here on out is just my opinion on how it'd play out.)

in terms of rei's POV in this:

rei hates the attention they gets from men, and is especially disgusted by gendo's fake kindness. he sees rei as a replaceable doll and pushes yui's image on them. gendo has never actually seen rei for who they really are, and rei later begins to hate and despise not only gendo but themselves too. in the anime, rei is shown to have self destructive tendencies & suicidal ideation because not only are they constantly being replaced & having their memory wiped, but each time they forget any sort of emotion that they learn in the meantime. recall the scene in which rei, right after being "revived" and left with no memory, sees gendo's glasses. although they cant remember anything, its hinted that their "soul" still remembers and hates him. rei tries to break the glasses but in the end, they’re still unable to defy and break free from their situation. feeling frustrated and helpless, rei starts crying & remarks how this should be the first time they've experienced it but somehow it feels like its not. back to the present, reis acting very reckless in battle and basically using themselves as a meat shield. they're so full of self-hate, and seeing asuka's obvious inferiority to them just upsets them even more. why does she put so much worth on the one thing that acts like a plague to them? compared to these pointless test results on a screen, asuka has something so much more valuable. the ability to think for themselves, to not be someone's doll. asuka's inferiority is almost insulting. rei verbally lashes out at asuka in the elevator, showing defiance that they never knew they could produce. it felt almost liberating. they find that being around asuka gives them emotions that they've always longed for, no matter how ugly they may be. they soon find themselves seeking asuka out, and the inferiority that was once insulting became a means to control and keep her close. asuka, someone who was seemingly invincible and can roam free without care, has one weakness that causes her to crack and shatter from the slightest touch. and that weakness is none other than rei themselves. rei becomes possessive in a way that they've never known possible. so much so that a part of them starts to hate themselves, fearing they've become just like their abuser gendo. nonetheless, rei begins to value their life more. they become deathly afraid of dying & being replaced by some mindless clone that has forgotten everything they now know about asuka and themself.

now what is asuka doing in all of this?

asuka deals with a lot of comphet and its an integral part of her character, so much so that it doesn’t seem right to not mention it. but to quickly summarize, because of this she has a love-hate relationship with attention from men. she feels disgusted by it but gets extremely jealous when it seems like another girl might replace her. then comes rei. (now what most ppl don’t seem to notice is asuka didnt start off hating rei, she tried to be friends but ever since the beginning misato has ALWYAYS pitted them against each other. this of course led asuka to feeling threatened & seeing rei as an enemy. especially since it involves piloting ability, something that asuka sees as her whole point of living.) she begins to hate her because how can someone who is so good at piloting be so brainless and doll-like. that’s exactly what asuka was trying so hard to not become! in this aspect, rei's entire existence defies what asuka has tried so hard to believe in up to this point. her hate & inferiority towards rei is only made worse when she sees that they're not only being objectified by men, but are seemingly unbothered by it unlike asuka. rei is now constantly on her mind, and asuka starts to realize that what she's feeling towards them isn’t just hate. its around the time of the elevator scene that these confusing emotions and inferiorities are at their peak. right after this, asuka goes into battle & is ordered to be rei's backup. she defies this order but receives a mental attack from an angel that causes her to re-live all of her trauma & comphet issues. the person that saved her from this is none other than rei. at this point asuka is at an all-time low, and states that she'd rather be left for dead than saved by someone like rei. she’s still confused by her feelings towards rei, but right now her hatred and insecurity is taking priority. its right after this battle that her synchro rates plummet and she loses the #1 thing she based her life worth on. she then goes out to die in an abandoned building but is eventually retrieved by NERV. I believe that during this time alone, she’s also wallowing in her feelings for rei and coming to terms with a lot of comphet stuff, especially after that psychological attack. right after this the world like ends or whatever but lets forget that for now & extend time cuz the gays need it 🥰 .

rei and asuka at this point realize their feelings in one way or another, and there's a lot of tension in their conversations. asuka is at a very fragile point rn bc of all the stuff that just went on, and rei is unsure how to go about things, half due to their inexperience & half due to their fear of becoming like gendo. however, asuka realizes rei is acting different from before, and advances on them as a way of lashing out. but to her surprise rei is undefiant and actually willingly helpless in her hands. she feels a rush of superiority and is amused by how inexperienced rei is. she also realizes that unlike her previous experiences with men (like when she tried to kiss shinji but didnt want to see, smell, taste, or even feel it & had a mental breakdown afterwards lol ) she actually likes it!? the romantic/sexual affirmation that asuka has always wanted from men like kaji is being fulfilled by rei in a way that asuka feels completely in control & comfortable. she's not forcing herself or being objectified, but rather is taking the lead. this is something she never imagined possible before. and all of this is with rei to boot! the rei that, in asuka's eyes, has always looked down on her and been unobtainable is now melting in her hands like putty. there’s a sense of accomplishment she feels, which makes her want to push rei even more. she finally has authority and to make herself feel better, she takes it out on rei through advances like this. she goes further and further, and in an ironic way, uses intimacy as a form of self-harm. she feels shame and despises herself for doing such things with ill-intent, and with another woman at that. its a toxic relationship that tries to fill the hole in her heart, but only leads to a bigger one forming.

when asuka first advanced onto rei, they felt something unlike anything before. unlike when gendo would often touch their shoulder, rei didnt recoil from asuka's touch. rei also felt something similar to asuka, in that the person who always seemed unbound by anything in now giving them her undivided attention. the fact that this came from an act of anger didnt really bother rei, since they knew from the beginning that was one of the only ways to get asuka to even spare them a glance. rei would gladly become hated if it meant binding asuka to them. in a mix of touch-starvedness & unhealthy dependency on asuka, rei kept looking forward to any interacting with asuka, since it was what really made them feel alive. asuka slowly becomes rei's world and meaning for living, but they eventually realize that causes a great insecurity. asuka is independent and can go anywhere she wants if she feels like it. from rei's pov, asuka desperately wants attention from men, something that rei could never give her. rei's afraid that asuka will leave them, & to tie asuka down they play the role of a villain. rei keeps asuka feeling insecure by becoming what asuka envisioned them as, and slowly starts hacking away at asuka's Achille's heel. rei desperately uses the short time that asuka has given them to engrain themself into her, so much so that asuka would be nothing without them. rei cannot let asuka realize her worth for fear that she would leave them. rei notices that asuka enjoys seeing them helpless and plays the part, almost like a honeytrap. slowly tho I believe that rei starts to take control of the relationship in hopes of making asuka dependent on them.

Asurei is in no way a wholesome relationship, and ik that’s not for everyone.. my vision of a happy end for them would be both of them becoming comfortable in their relationship and finding that the actions they once used to express hatred for themselves and each other is now slowly becoming fueled by love and desire for each other. They form a very unhealthy co-dependence on each other, but for them it works. They cant envision a world without the other in it.

#asurei #i was so surprised i got summoned #am i seen as some kind of asurei-connoisseur #toxic yuri #thats all it boils down to

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keithal · 8 months

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in honor of @iwtvfanevents a meal to remember event, here's an iwtv fic rec post with a twist: all of these fics range from 20-50 kudos ONLY. no popular fics. my blog is first and foremost a supporter of small businesses.

a song of blood and teeth by exastris_scientia (@keepoffthetardis): asoiaf au! there's nothing i like better than an intelligently written au, and this is definitely the best one i've seen in the fandom yet. i recommend reading it even if ur unfamiliar with asoiaf (i've never read a word by george rr martin and i still enjoyed this a great deal)

vacation by bandedbulbussnarfblat (@bandedbulbussnarfblat): just thinking abt this fic sends me into hysterics. never before have i been reading an armandaniel fic and sat there like "no i agree w the toxic psychopath vampire. that's a fucked up thing to do :/"

a memory is a ghost (regret, regret) by flowerplots (@enterprisery): reading this the first time knocked me backwards thru time. AMAZING louisdaniel fic written by one of the biggest brains to ever brain. flowerplot's ideas are always so unique and such a delight to read.

a memory is a memory (is a memory?) by flowerplots (@enterprisery): GOOD LORD. this is a follow-up to the previous fic that somehow made me even more insane. leans hard on the idea of not being able to trust a word being said because none of it happened but it all happened. except of course when it didn't.

when teeth bite in by patrokla: short but INCREDIBLE. my brain turns over theories abt what happened post-1973 interview and how it connects to present-day dubai like a rotissiere chicken 24/7. i love the prose in this fic especially. i think abt "[Daniel] would say it, but he’s experiencing a distinct melting sensation. He’s only barely corporeal. He's losing himself" every single day.

Who Wore it Best? by whimsy_walrus: lestat and daniel slept together in new orleans. this is canon to me. i fantasize abt hacking into rollins' computer and replacing whatever s2 script's been written w this instead

Toward the Blue Peninsula by adreadfulidea: obsessed with gen claudia-focused fics and this one has gotta be my favorite one in existence. i hope in this universe where claudia escaped to europe she lived happy eternity writing poems with emily dickenson the vampire

reliquary by weathermood (@weather-mood): LOUIS' CANE. i'm always thinking abt louis' cane. and what does the wonderful weathermood do? give me even more reason to obsess over it. this fic HAUNTS ME.

happy reading! :D

#this is no hate to popular fics but i always see the same ones rec'd over and over and it makes me sad :(#fic rec #iwtv #mine #a meal to remember

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cellsshapedlikestars · 10 months

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Seeing all your cool home updates && half-watching some HGTV w/my mom while drawing had a simple prompt idea if you might be interested! Basically HGTV reno show Jonsa - Sansa is a designer and finally gets a chance for her own show but loses Rob (her #1 contractor) to an injury before filming starts && Jon jumps in (either to help Rob /or/ the studio execs (maybe Targs?) throw him in) and the two have to work together somehow. Idk idk, just wanted to share! <3

ANON.

No, you have no idea, I already HAVE a house reno wip. It's not super long, but... yeah. I've got that.

Here, I'll post what I have written of it, since we CAN'T GET ONTO AO3.

this isn't exactly your prompt, though I do honestly love yours a lot and sort of want to change mine. If I changed mine, the show Sansa works on would definitely be like Rehab Addict, where she restores old homes to their prior state instead of making them "modern"

But mine is sort of similar? This snippet is just the set up and doesn't include the part where Sansa decides to start a youtube channel for her renovations, (a la WabiSabE, which I used to watch and was probably the inspiration for this fic when I first started writing it like a year ago lol), and everyone starts shipping her with her contractor Jon, who she keeps forcing to be in the videos because she can't really make them without him being in it...

Sansa winces as her car hits another bump and jolts her in her seat.

“You owe me,” she huffs out, hands tight around the wheel.

“I know, I know,” Robb's voice comes through her sound system and fills the car. He's distracted, she can tell, and she bites back a snippy comment. Robb's just so busy, he couldn't possibly get away.

That's not fair, the small part of her brain that's still being rational thinks. Of course Robb couldn't drop everything and come out to the middle of nowhere to deal with their Great Uncle Brynden's estate. Robb's got a new baby and his job.

Robb's got a baby, Arya's got her tournaments, Bran has school, and Rickon's still underage. All of her siblings have lives they can't get away from. All except her.

No significant other, no kids. A tenuous career that she can technically do from anywhere.

“Oh no,” she breathes, when the house finally comes into sight through the trees.

“What's wrong?” Robb asks, his full attention back on her.

“Robb,” she whines, the car coming to a pathetic, rolling stop on the overgrown gravel drive. “It's a mess.”

“A mess?”

She doesn't answer, too busy staring at the mansion in front of her. Or, what used to be a mansion, she thinks.

It's still vaguely house-shaped, but... The roof is missing shingles in multiple places, the windows all seem busted out. The steps up to the covered front porch are fine, but the porch itself has a massive sinkhole, and half the wood looks rotted and ready to crumble.

Gods, if this is what the outside looks like...

“What kind of a mess?” Robb asks. She's just about to start listing the many problems when she hears another car approaching.

“I've gotta go,” she tells Robb. “I think the lawyer's here.” She hangs up before Robb can answer, and watches the other car slowly emerge through the trees up the bumpy road, past the broken gates, and onto the circular gravel drive. It stops behind her and a man gets out. She gets out, too, phone clutched in her hand, just in case.

“Miss Stark?” the man asks, and his face splits into a kind smile when she nods. “Perfect, perfect. I'm Samwell Tarly. It's nice to finally meet you.”

Sansa moves forward to shake the lawyer's hand. He isn't what she was expecting. He's young, for one – maybe only a few years older than her. And he seems just as nice in person as he'd been over the phone. She didn't think lawyers came in nice.

“We should have met at your office,” she says, eyeing up the weeds sprouting from between the gravel and brushing against her ankles. “I didn't realize the road here would be so...”

Mr. Tarly laughs. “This place has been abandoned for quite some time,” he agrees. “I never met Brynden myself, but I’d heard about him. Apparently he decided to up and travel the world and left this…”

Sansa looks back at the crumbling mansion and feels her face scrunch up. She tries to smooth it out. “So, how fast do you think I can sell this?” she asks.

That’s when Mr. Tarly’s smile falters. “Well,” he starts, hesitant, “you see, it’s in such a poor state, I can’t imagine anyone would be willing to buy it.”

“But the land must be worth something? They can just knock it down and-”

“Ah,” Mr. Tarly winces, and Sansa’s sentence breaks off, unfinished. “I suppose you didn’t read all the fine print?” At the slow shake of her head, he grimaces. “Riverrun Manor is a historic property. You, legally, are not allowed to tear the structure down. Anything you do needs to go through lots of committee approvals…”

“So what you’re saying,” Sansa says, closing her eyes as reality crashes down around her, “is that literally no one is going to want to buy this.”

“Maybe if you find someone who’s both very rich, and very interested in Riverlands history?”

She opens her eyes and there must be a glare on her face, because Mr. Tarly winces again.

Then she turns back to the manor, and really looks at it this time. Beneath the grime and the moss and the crumbling wood, she can see what it used to be.

“What if I fixed it up a bit?” she asks, turning back to the lawyer. “What if I just did the major repairs, do you think someone would buy it then?”

She doesn’t want to do that, but it beats letting the property sit around even longer and paying the taxes on it. Or, worse, not paying the taxes and having that on her and her sibling’s financial records.

“I’m not a real estate agent,” Mr. Tarly responds, looking at the building thoughtfully. “But this is a good location, lots of historic stuff around. I wouldn’t doubt you could sell it if the building weren’t… well, that.” He waves his hand towards the manor.

“Alright,” she nods. “Maybe we should head to your office to do the paperwork, though? Then I’ll… I guess I’ll look for a contractor?”

Sam nods, and a bright smile lights his face again. “Oh, I know someone you can call!”

#cellsshapedlikeasks #jonsa #jonsa fic #ao3 come back

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thecooler · 3 months

Text

Landmine

Wake had rules of engagement when it came to dealing with any of the Emperor’s favorite minions— his specialist little zombies— lyctors. Those rules of engagement were as follows: 1. Do not fucking engage 2. If you somehow end up doing that, give them hell.

Words: 5,213

Relationships: Gideon the First/Commander Wake/Pyrrha Dve, Commander Wake & Our Lady of the Passion

Additional Tags: Pre-Canon, Enemies and Lovers, Non-Explicit Sex, Fighting and Fucking and Fighting as Fucking

Written for the TLT Holiday Gift Exchange on ao3, also my first work in the fandom so you gotta be nice :P

AO3 Mirror

Commander Awake Remembrance of These Valiant Dead Kia Hua Ko Te Pai Snap Back to Reality Oops There Goes Gravity was born in the pile of smouldering ashes that was the Blood of Eden. When she was very small, her mother told her stories about what they used to be, back in her grandmother’s day, and how the zombies and wizards had overwhelmed them with their numbers and their tricks, how her grandmother, her uncles, and countless more had been killed and had their bodies desecrated and turned into fuel with which to kill their brethren. She told her that one day, they would rise from the ashes, and triumph, and Wake believed that with her whole wretched heart.

When she was twelve, she held a gun for the first time. Her little calloused fingers fit around the grip like they were meant to be there. She raised her shaky hand, guided by her elder sister, God Shall Be My Hope. Their mother had been blown apart from the inside by a wizard, her parts too small and burnt to bear any resemblance to the person she once was. The Nine Houses, as it always did, reduced people to tools of war, and her mother was in the right place and the right time to become a bomb. It wouldn’t happen like that to her.

“I’m gonna bring us back,” she said, a few years later, when she was old enough to know that the Blood of Eden was operating like shit, but not old enough to know how to fix it. She said, “like we used to be, before they found that base and wrecked our shit.”

She remembered that Hope looked tired, and a bit scared. She always looked tired— bucking up at the age of fifteen and raising your sister did that to a girl. The fear was new, though. She said, “I don’t want you to go out like mom, Wake.”

Wake slid the magazine back into the pistol and smiled a nasty, curling, bitter smile, “Not up to me, but let me tell ya’— if I’m going out, I’m taking as many zombies as I can down with me. They’re gonna remember me, and even when I’m dead, my name’s gonna scare the piss out of them.”

Her sister said, “I hope you’re right.”

Ten years after that, Wake was a Wing Commander, and things were starting to go right. She knew how to hold any gun without shaking and without hesitating. She knew how a zombie’s eyes looked when light left them, and she knew more than anyone that they weren’t unkillable.

Her sister, meanwhile, was dying in childbirth on a shitty patch of dirt that the Houses’ God had long since forgotten. Wake made herself stay by her side and listen to her howls of pain. They didn’t have any anesthetic or morphine— their stores had been sacked by a drove of Cohort pigs not even a week ago. Wake was on fire. She was red-hot furious. Hope was dying— fucking hell— and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it.

She said, “Save her, save her. I don’t fucking care about kid.”

Her sister wailed and clawed at her arm and hair and she said, “No, don’t you fucking dare. Don’t you fucking dare.”

But in the end neither of them really had much of a say in the matter. Hope died with a name on her lips, and Wake, who had never wanted to be a mother, gave it to the newborn Our Lady of the Passion, and did what her sister had all those years ago— she loved that shitty kid as best as she could.

---

Wake had rules of engagement when it came to dealing with any of the Emperor’s favourite minions— his specialist little zombies— lyctors. Those rules of engagement were as follows:

1. Do not fucking engage

2. If you somehow end up doing that, give them hell

The Commander had not woken up that day with the notion that she’d be toe-to-toe with a lyctor. But here she was, boots scraping up hard-packed red earth as she danced around one of their rapiers.

“You look like a pussy, fighting with that thing,” she snarled.

And the zombie smiled. Deep brown eyes crinkled around the edges, and stark white teeth peeked out through dark lips. Infuriatingly, it was devastatingly handsome. This realization slapped her across the face, and she thought, distantly, if I get out of this thing, I need to get laid ASAP.

It smiled, and then it pulled a spear out of the rigid corpse of one of its comrades and lunged towards Wake. The speed of it might have been impressive, if the asshole wasn’t literally bringing knives to a gun fight. She raised her pistol to block the spearhead before it made contact with her chest plate. The gun clattered on the ground behind them, and without looking, Wake leaped into a back handspring and kicked the pistol back into her grip. The zombie was looking at her with what she thought might be genuine awe, but she didn’t allow herself to ruminate on it. They’d been going at this for nearly an hour. She was running on fumes, and she had to finish this.

She flung herself forward, dancing around the lunge of the spear. She shot the hand that held it, then spun and kicked the steel toe of her boot into the joint of the opposite wrist. She smiled a wicked, feral grin at the sound of both weapons clattering to the floor.

She stood, breathing heavily, looking into deep brown eyes. In another life, she might have described them as warm. In this life, she shoved the barrel of one gun between them, and the other under its breast, where its heart would be.

She hesitated only for a moment, and in that moment, the zombie that she would come to know as Pyrrha Dve made a choice that would haunt her to her dying breath and beyond. She leaned forward and captured her dry, split, lonely lips in a kiss. She raised her dark, blood-stained hands and cradled her face with an alien softness.

Wake bit her. She clamped down hard on the zombie’s bottom lip until blood bloomed on her tongue, and then they broke apart, and the Emperor’s hand smiled, torn lip trickling blood down her chin. She said, “I’m sorry, destroy me as I am, but I wanted to kiss you before you killed me.”

Wake should have killed her then and there. She should have blown her head and chest apart and burned the bits of flesh and viscera that remained. Instead, she said, “Why the fuck would you want that?”

And the zombie laughed again, and again Wake didn’t take the opportunity to tear her heart out. She smiled a soft, destructive smile, and said to Wake, “I’ve only once met someone so willing to burn for what they believed in, and I loved him on sight. Commander, the first time I died, I asked of him what I ask of you now,” she pressed a calloused hand again to Wake’s face, and it was horribly warm. Those terrible dark eyes met hers, and she said, “make it quick.”

Then she kissed Wake again, and again, and again. And Wake didn’t kill her that day.

---

Wake ended up meeting Pyrrha one other time before she met the other one. This was a good thing, because if she hadn’t had the heads up she might have ripped his dick clean off. Pyrrha was bleeding from thick, deep cuts on her exposed biceps and throat, her breaths coming out as sharp, desperate wheezing. Her immortal blood seeped through Wake’s fingers same as any soldier, same as a dog bleeding out on the side of the road. Wake pressed down harshly on her throat with the butt of her pistol and hiked her knee up between the other woman’s legs.

“Hard already, Dve?” she taunted, then snorted when all Pyrrha could do was let out a low whine.

“Shit, baby,” Pyrrha said, fear creeping into her words.

Wake was no one’s baby. She leaned forward and sunk her teeth into thin cartilage, and tore off the tip of her lover’s ear with her teeth. She spat the severed flesh on the grimy, stained floor of the shuttle and looked at Pyrrha’s eyes.

No.

No, Pyrrha’s eyes were a warm, deep brown. The eyes that she was looking into now were a clear green, alarmed, confused, and still a bit horny.

Wake smiled, her lips curling, “Hello, Gideon,” she purred, jerking her knee against his half-hard cock. “How are you feeling?” and she slipped her gun into her holster and unsheathed her well-used knife. Without preamble, she thrust the blade between his ribs.

He howled out in pain, strong, calloused hands scrambling at her shoulders. But, notably, he didn’t push Wake away. Instead, between panting breaths, he said, “Who the hell are you?”

Wake leaned in close to his still-bleeding ear and whispered, “Your worst fucking nightmare.”

---

Long, long before she was born— long enough that it had long since faded into legend, a Lyctor had made contact with the Blood of Eden. Referred to only as Source Gram. She, allegedly, hailed from the Sixth House, and, even more dubiously, aided her ancestors in the beginnings of their movement. But nothing of the sort had happened since, and Lyctors had become the villains of legend. Many thought that they were immortal, and that they would be the death of them. They were something to be avoided at all cost.

But she knew she could not keep her knowledge of Pyrrha and Gideon from her people, and more than that, she didn’t want to. They could be of use to the Blood of Eden— invaluable even. And so she called her Wing Commanders together, and told them she had something important to discuss.

She told the Blood of Eden, “I have a source in the houses,” and the room went silent. Expectant gazes fell on her, and for the first time in a long time, Wake felt nervous. She tilted her chin up and hoped she could project confidence. “I believe,” she said, “that I’ve gained the trust of one of John Gaius’ hands.”

Her breathing felt impossibly loud. Then, We Suffer breathed out slowly, locked eyes with her, and said, “Tell us what you want us to do, Commander.”

After that, the next year and a half were a cascade of formed connections and formed plans. Source Joyeuse, Piotra, and Chysoar offered them tools and knowledge that her mother and sisters would not have dared dream of. They were in a better place than they’d ever been. Wake could taste the blood of the Emperor, could feel his death at her fingertips.

She was going to be the change she’d wanted to be since she was a child. She was going to avenge her mother, blown to pieces, and her sister, dead to the Nine House’s negligence.

She met with Gideon a few more times, and Pyrrha a few more than that. Each time, they fought and fucked, and sometimes they talked, but never about her plans. Gideon was infuriatingly loyal to his puppet master, and Pyrrha wasn’t supposed to exist. The knowledge of what they were planning would only burden her.

Especially when the Vat Wombs failed, and Wake set about making her bomb with her own two hands.

---

There was a certain level of domesticity that Wake had never allowed herself. She helped raise Pash, and the girl certainly looked up to her, but she wasn’t a mother. She didn’t know how to cook more than what you could boil in a pot of water with little to no additional steps. She could barely keep her own space clean half the time. And she didn’t do feelings talks. Never had, really. Hope had tried, when they were both young and stupid, because she read in some book that it was good to do so. Wake didn’t need a book to tell her that talking about that shit was important. She knew. She just didn’t do it.

Pillow talk, too, was a concept she was familiar with in theory, but something she avoided in practice. She’d fucked around with folks before Pyrrha and Gideon, and she let them assume that was still the case, though it wasn’t— she didn’t have time these days for that kind of bullshit. But even when she did have the time for it, she never stuck around for long after. She liked to think it added to her air of authority. They were done when she said they were done.

Sometimes, when it was Gideon, he would lay back after and hold his hand out, and if she had one (and she usually did), she’s shove a cigarette into his hand, and he’d smoke it and stare at the ceiling or the wall while the cuts and gauges stitched back up. He rarely said much of anything, but sometimes he would look at her for a bit too long, with a certain soft crease to his eyebrows and a barely-noticeable curl to his lip that looked alien on him, like it wasn’t an expression he had a lot of practice with.

He told her once that she had a wicked, mean smile, and she snapped back that he didn’t smile at all, so he shouldn’t talk, and he’d huffed out a curt laugh and said, “I used to. Not for a long time, though.”

And she hadn’t known how to respond to that, so she’d pinned him down, and he’d laughed, and it was a beautiful thing— one that she did not allow herself to dwell on for more than a moment, lest the sound worm its way into her cold, tired heart and find a home there. She sunk her teeth into his shoulder until she tasted blood.

On another occasion, he said, in that gruff, flat way he always spoke, “Sometimes I wish I’d known you before I knew him,” and she’d responded by telling him to take that sentiment and shove it where the light of Dominicus can’t find it. There wasn’t any worth in what ifs. If Gideon weren’t a tedious chicken-shit, it wouldn’t matter when they’d met.

Bottom line: she didn’t need, or want, his loyalty.

Pyrrha was different. It was like she’d orgasm and suddenly she had to talk, or she’d explode and take her necro with her. It usually wasn’t about much of anything. She’d lay back with her hands folded under her head and smirk and tell Wake all about what it was like, before she died the first time. She seldom talked about Gideon, and if Wake ever asked, it usually ended the conversation immediately.

But she’d talk about friends that had long since died. About Anastasia, and Cass, and Cyth, who was still alive, but who hadn’t spoken to her in a millennium. Wake, of course, knew Cyth. She’d been helping the Blood of Eden for some time, but the knowledge would bring Pyrrha no comfort.

Pyrrha would ask Wake questions, too, about her life, and the people she cared about. Once, Wake had spoken to her, briefly about Hope, and something in her voice must have given away her still-smouldering grief, because Pyrrha reached forward and rested her hand atop Wake’s. And there must have been something wrong with her, because for a few burning seconds, she allowed it. And then she said, with less anger than she’d hope to muster, “Get off my ship, Dve,” and the bastard had the nerve to pause to kiss her brow before leaving.

Wake should have killed her for that. She really should’ve.

The infuriating woman seemed to like to hear her talk about Pash in particular, even if it was just the same three things over and over. Wake never gave away much, even to her. She’d look at that shitty, grimy little photo in her toolkit and ask her questions, most of which she didn’t answer, but she never seemed to mind that.

Then, after the vat wombs had failed, and she took matters into her own hands, Pyrrha said, “I always wanted to be a parent,” in his soft, wistful voice. She was looking right at Wake, and for one mortifying moment, she thought that she knew. This shouldn’t have made bile burn up her esophagus, and it damn well shouldn’t have made her heart pound in her chest. She stared back at Pyrrha, her mouth slightly parted, and after a few long seconds, Pyrrha looked up at the ceiling and sighed.

“I think I could’ve been a good mom. Gideon always said I would, and Cass and Ana. Augustine, too, but he was always kissing up to me. He’d say the First was made of pudding if he thought it’d make me happy,” her words were sharp, but Pyrrha’s eyes always betrayed her with how repulsively soft they were. That warm, dark brown always reminded her of the hot chocolate she would get once in a while when she was small, before her mother died. She’d met the Lyctor Augustine once, and she couldn’t conceive of having anything more than passing resentment for the man.

"Any kid you raised would be a jackass with an awful sense of humor," Wake said dryly.

"Don't be a dick," but Pyrrha was still smiling.

She did not think through what she was doing when she settled back into the cot next to Pyrrha and rested her head on her bare shoulder. Her mind longed to wander. Images flashed in her periphery, of a quiet, calm life, somewhere far away with Pyrrha and Gideon and Pash and a shitty little kid. A world where the emperor was long dead and the age of Necromancy had begun to fade into memory.

But first she had to have the baby— the Bomb— and she didn’t know how happy Pyrrha would be with her after that.

It didn’t matter anyway. Even if it worked, and the Emperor was dead in a year, there would be work to do. Wake had long since accepted that she would be working until she was in the ground.

Pyrrha wrapped her big, strong arms around her and gave her a gentle squeeze, and Wake pressed her face into her chest. She didn’t know if it was the pregnancy hormones or something else firing around in her messed up head, but for a moment, Wake closed her eyes, and she allowed herself to imagine them in another life.

----

Celebrating the date of one’s birth was not something they could afford most years. She’d never had them growing up, and she turned out just fine. But the fact remained that having a birthday party was fun, and people, on occasion, liked to have fun. So they had a birthday party for Our Lady of the Passion on years where they had the means to. They had one on her fifth birthday, and her ninth, and now it was her fifteenth, and Wake was busting her ass more than she probably should to make it special, all while being nearly nine months pregnant and certifiably fucking huge. It was awful, it was uncomfortable, but she was, as Hope had once so aptly put it, more stubborn that those weird venomous cats, which were, for the uninitiated, endurance hunters, and ergo, very fucking stubborn.

We Suffer looked at her balancing a gift wrapped in crinkly brown paper and sighed audibly before lifting it out of Wake’s hands, ignoring the curse she bit out in protest.

“Have you ever considered sitting down— taking a rest?” She suggested in a soft, sing-song voice that she knew damn well Wake couldn’t stand.

“Have you ever considered shutting the fuck up?” She shot back, but there was no teeth to it.

“You’re carrying something pretty important,” We Suffer nodded to her stomach, “wouldn’t want it getting jostled too much because mom’s got too much goddamn pride.”

Wake frowned, brows furrowed. The details for her plan weren’t terribly well-known, and We Suffer wasn’t included in that circle. As far as she was aware, Wake was carrying a baby because she’d suddenly developed an affinity for them. So saying something like, I don’t really give a rat’s ass whether this thing is born healthy or on death's door, so long as it’s got blood, would be somewhat alarming. So she just grunted and didn’t complain about the help.

Pash was never good at keeping to herself, and Wake pretended to hate it more than she did. Couldn’t have the girl getting ideas in her head that she could go around doing whatever she wanted. But hell, it was her birthday, so when the little shit bumped against Wake’s side with a shit-eating grin and raised eyebrows, Wake smiled back.

“Where the fuck did you get hair dye, you little shit?” Wake said, running her fingers through freshly blue hair. The sides of her fingers came away slightly stained.

“Scavenged it,” Pash said— she still had a bit of a lisp when she tried to say s-words, but it was a far cry from where she’d been ten. Back then she’d been nigh-incomprehensible. The kid eyed her stomach dubiously, the same way she had since Wake started to show. The two of them hadn’t talked about it, and Wake didn’t intend to, unless Pash brought it up. It’d be a non-issue soon enough, anyway.

“Sooooo,” she said, bumping her shoulder to Wake’s. The kid was stupid tall, and seemed to still be growing, “what’d you get me, dear auntie?”

“I got you my goddamned presence, you little worm,” Wake said with no venom and a traitorous smile curled on her lips. She added, “and a cake, so you better be fucking grateful.”

Pash threw her hands up in surrender, “I am, I am! Shit,” she laughed, and Wake let out a snort that to her own ears was far too fucking fond. This seemed to please Pash, who mumbled something about finding Unjust Hope and took off.

Wake watched her go, and felt herself grow a bit sentimental. She could remember when that kid was small enough for her to hold in both hands. She could remember when she was nothing more than what the Bomb was now, curled inside her, unaware of the world, or the destruction they’d be born into.

Pash had asked her once, when she was eight and newly old enough to understand what had happened to her mother, if Wake hated her for killing Hope. If anyone had asked her before that moment, she might have said yes, or that at least that a part of her did. But Pash had looked at her with those big, sad hazel eyes, and she’d found that there wasn’t any hate left in her for Our Lady of the Passion.

She told her, “No, I don’t hate you. Don’t go getting a big fucking head about it, though.”

And nearly seven years later, she seemed to have gotten a big head about it anyway, by the way she felt comfortable flipping Wake off or calling her old lady. From anyone else, this would have been a deal breaker. She’d fold that fucker in half just to shove their head so far up their ass they forgot which way was up. But the most Pash ever got was some sharp words and a tired huff. So maybe it was her own fault, a little bit.

A little under an hour later, they were all sat around a garbage sheet cake with a single candle in the middle, and Pash was opening their gifts— one of which was a machete with a wicked curve. At the sight of this, Pash let out an awed gasp and raked her eyes over it was a ravenous want. She was Wake’s kid, alright.

From across the table, We Suffer cocked an eyebrow at her, and rather than dignify that with a response, she looked at Pash and said, “You should learn to use it, just in case. But the biggest thing is just getting into a minion’s head. Fuck with them. Make ‘em think you can beat them at their own game, and games they ain’t even thought of yet.”

Pash smiled a wide, toothy grin, “Do you know how to use it? Can you teach me?”

“A little,” Wake said. Sometimes, after a rendeavouz, when Pyrrha was too antsy for pillow talk but nonetheless unwilling to leave, the two of them would practice swordplay together. Pyrrha said she looked like a dog with a stick, but she was working her way up to a dog with a sword. “When I have time, alright?”

Even God didn’t know when that would be, though. The baby would come soon, and, if all went to plan, the death of the Emperor with it. The aftermath of that was impossible to calculate. Even his inner circle wasn’t sure what would happen. But Wake always found time for Pash, one way or another.

Pash set the machete on the table, and seemed about to say something, but then the familiar voice of one of her Wing Commanders, Cherry, crackled over her walkie. It said, “Duty is trailing you. Ninth house operation’s gotta move up.”

We Suffer eyed her from across the table, and as she took the words in, her gaze hardened. What she thought she had figured out, Wake couldn’t be sure. But she’d always been bright, that one. She probably had a pretty good idea.

“Fuck, kid, I gotta go,” she said, feeling genuinely sorry. But Pash was looking at her with a wicked grin and fire in her eyes.

“Go give those zombies hell. You’ll teach me how to use this thing when you get back.”

“Hold me to that,” Wake said, and then she left the base for the last time.

---

Wake stood on wobbly, uncertain, bloody legs. The Bomb was clutches to her chest, rolled a little too tightly in a blanket. On its soft, brown head a few strands of bright red hair, so much like her own, clung wetly to its skull. She refused to recognize herself within her weapon, even as it fussed and whined and cried and reached its tiny, chubby hand towards her in ask for safety, comfort, or anything else a mother might have to give.

But Wake wasn’t a mother. She was a warrior, a commander, a phoenix rising from the ashes, over and over. She put the wailing bundle into a haz suit and clacked the visor shut. Its cries continues, crackly and insistent, through the speakers.

Pyrrha was always the one that wanted to be a mother, and as she stood before her now, Wake felt as though she could read the thoughts storming through her head. She looked at Wake, who must look now like an uncaged beast, covered in her own blood, hair a wild tangle, eyes alight with adrenaline, and she looked every bit as sappy and lovelorn as she always did after they got done fighting or fucking. She said, “Wake, darling, I don’t have long. Let’s take the baby and get out of here. Please.”

“I’m not your darling,” Wake snarled, “and I’m not fucking going anywhere with you.”

Pyrrha stepped back, her eyes widening slightly, at Wake’s tone, and she felt a flush at pride at the sight of hurt contorting her features. Her eyes were always so wide and dark and expressive. She swallowed, “Gideon will be back soon. I can feel him. And he won’t let you go— you or the baby.”

At this, Wake threw her head back in a long, cruel laugh. Against her chest, the Bomb wailed, and in response Pyrrha stepped forward, hands outstretched, and Wake pulled her bundle closer with a low growl. “Fuck off. Gideon can do what the fuck he wants,” and, against her better judgement, she added, “you don’t think he’d kill a baby.”

Pyrrha’s eyes were fixed on the Bomb, like Wake didn’t exist at all, and it took a moment for her to reply, “He’d to anything for him. He’d always do anything for him. Wake, I don’t know what you think your plan is—“

“You don’t,” Wake said, “you don’t have a clue. But it doesn’t matter. I’m gonna kill the fucking emperor, and then it won’t matter who gave Gideon his marching orders. Nothing will matter.”

Pyrrha looked like she might say something more, but before she had the chance, she slumped forward, just briefly, and when she stood back up, green eyes blinked awake, and looked at her, and looked at the Bomb.

Gideon said, “What the fuck did you do?”

Wake said, “I’m going to kill your fucking boss, dipshit.”

Gideon went very still. He looked at Wake, in her ragged haz suit, and the baby, whose baby blue eyes were squinting through the harsh light of the shuttle over at him. For a moment, silence hung between them, save for the occasional fussing of the Bomb in her hands. “Say something,” Wake said.

“I don’t know what you want, Wake. I’ve never known.” Gideon looked properly sad then. The harsh lines of his face softened, and his eyebrows knit together. He looked like he might step forward, and for a precious moment in time, she lived in the world that Pyrrha had always wanted. She lived in a world with them, and maybe Pash, and no one else. Hormones going to her head and nothing more, and even if it were more than that, Gideon shattered the illusion with his next words.

“I can’t let you kill him. You know I can’t.” And he sounded so pathetic and desperate that Wake had to clamp her jaw together and look away, lest she burn apart where she stood.

“You’ve never let me do shit,” she said, laughing bitterly. She turned a knob on the side of her helmet, and the plex slipped down. Her voice came out crackled through the headset. “See you when we’ve won,” she said, and turned to open the airlock, to descend to the planet, and to light that motherfucker up.

Then a fist slammed against her back. She felt a rib break as she tumbled forward into open space. She turned around and briefly saw Gideon’s pained, horrible face, and for a split second, she swore she saw a flash of brown in his eyes. But she was losing air quickly, and she had to lose it quicker, if she wanted the Bomb to make it to its destination.

She wasn’t going to get back home, she wasn’t going to a half-flipped moon, she wasn’t going to see the demise of the Emperor of the Nine Houses. She wasn’t going to get to teach Pash how to use those damn machetes.

“Fuck you!” she snarled, and she directed her life preserves to the Bomb.

As they fell, and life drained slowly and agonizingly from her body, Wake shrieked, “Gideon! Gideon! Gideon!”

And she burned, and she burned, and she burned.

#the locked tomb #commander wake #awake remembrance of these valiant dead #pyrrha dve #gideon the first #our lady of the passion #pyrrhawake #writing tag #waves cutely

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softhairedhotch · 5 months

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omg speaking of male ocs/reader . i just wanted to share about this One trope that got me CRAZYYY is secret relationships... the one's where aaron and oc are like pretty much dating but are trying to keep it a total secret from the rest of the team because #professionalism.... but they keep making little slip ups bc they're just so in love 😭😭 i think its just SOOO CUTE 😭😭😭

N THIS ONE SCENARIO THATS STUCK IN MY HEAD is like oc ended up sleeping over at aaron's place then in the morning his phone rings. but male oc doesn't realise that it's AARON'S phone (and not his) so he answers half asleep. but then on the other end of the line is another team member who's like "oh sorry- thought it was... i must have dailed the wrong number- wait... 🤨🤨" then male ocs like HORRIFIED and aaron soon wakes up to the sound and he's also SHOCKED but he tries to put on his #serious professional gruff voice and coming up with some excuse like they drank last night and then dozed on the couch or smth 😭😭 then subsequently aaron n reader have to keep defending themselves by saying it was just a #bro activity and that's they're just Bros n nothing more

my god... just thinking about how cute aaron is when he's flustered 😭😭😭 like how he has the 🥺 eyes but tries to cover it up with a 🤨😐🙄 "i don't know what you're talking about . can we talk about work now". LIKE the episodes when the team teased aaron when he was going out w beth My GODDDD HES SOOOO ADORABLE WHEN HES IN LOVE 😭😭😭😭 like his boyish grin n the way his face crinkles... i cannot deal with this

- 🤲

yesssss i LOOOVEEEE secret relationships sooo much, especially when it's like cute lil gestures during work or getting each other coffee n kissing when no ones around or cuddling at work bc they have to share a room and no one's gonna know <33 (unless one of the team happens to burst into the room bc they think aaron or the oc is in trouble somehow 🤭🤭🤭 and sees them snuggled up on the bed all cute 🤭🤭🤭 as they're holding their gun bc they think they were gonna find an unsub with them or them missing but noooo they're just wrapped up allllll cute in each other's arms 🤭🤭🤭)

OUGH I LOOOOOOVE THAT SCENARIO!!!!! heheh i love the idea of penny calling and being like "hey sir i- wait a moment i thought i called- no i know i did bc he's on speed dial so that means- oh my GOD you and boss man are CANOODLING" and oc/reader is just like "nonono i accidently slept here!!" n she's like "WHY WERE YOU THERE IN THE FIRST PLACE 🤭🤭" and aaron wakes up n takes the phone and is like "he came over to help me with jack and we drank a lil now we're asleep on the couch" and idk if she'd do this fr but maybe penny can track the phone real quick and she's like "then why does it say you're in the bedroom rn 😏" LMAOOO and bless them they're just trying sooooo hard to brush it off!!!

"we're just brooooos man bros gotta cuddle the homes sometimes!!!" 😭😭 it'd be lowkey so funny if oc is just like "don't you think aaron deserves a cuddle or two, guys? it ain't gay i swear man he's just in need of some love from the homies yknow. hey morgan maybe you should snuggle him next-" "absolutely not" "-i'm sure he'd love that! he just needs some loving, man" LMAOOO

and yesssss they'd tease his sooooo much <333 he'd get all flustered bless him and it'd be adorable and he'd be wanting to tell everyone they ARE together bc he wants to show oc off sooo much and give him work smooches and just be like "yeah this is MY BOYFRIEND!!!!" bc he's soooooo cute and in love but for now he just gets used to the teasing from the team (dave and penny mostly, but sometimes emily and spencer catch him off guard) hehe <3 it'd be like that scene where rossi looks at him once and just KNOWS he got a date with beth or something hehe and he goes "attaboy 😏" after he confirms he has!!! OUGH i neeeed him to smile like that at the thought of dating me SO MUCH and for rossi to be proud AHHHHH

and just the idea of a male oc making him all smiley and goofy and happy again <33 he kinda becomes how he used to be again GODDD like he's just happy again GODDDD 😭

his SMILE DJSKDJ GODDDDDDDD I LOVE HIM I LOVE HIM I LOVE HIM I LOOOOOOOVE HIM

also i currently have like 5 male oc's written up for him (like fics planned out or ideas for it) LMAOO they're all mostly from when i was in the fandom in 2021 but i wanna go back to the ideas sooooooo much 😭 and i made a new one a few days ago for a lil one chapter fic i wanna post hehe, it's so dramatic tbh but seems to also end in smut LMAO so hopefully i can get it out sometime 💪just need to write aaron being gay without it being reid or morgan amen (even tho i LOVE hotchgan)

thank you sm for the ask hehe <3

#🤲 anon #casks #casper's anons #YOU'RE SO BIG BRAIN FR #LIKE FRRRR #i love it #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x male reader #aaron hotchner x male oc #works for both tags i suppose lol #criminal minds

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pippastrelle · 8 days

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Bulletpoint liveblog of C3E91 let's go!

First half: Bell's Hells

Gotta love Marisha as Sam's protege. What's the opposite of phallic? Somehow they made a hotdog costume that. And now back to sadness…

God, Orym's immediately in soldier mode.

Where are they going to go from here? If they're so in the open. Are they going to go down the Bloody Bridge or escape through Issylra? I mean, makes sense that Liliana doesn't want to tip them off, but still a woman convinced that working for Ludinus will work out somehow…

Possessing a human to escape the divine gate is pretty smart. Yeah, right, that's probably what Ruidusborn were from the start (if Predathos is sentient enough to plan).

I know she's rightly frustrating to others but Liliana is so interesting. I love characters getting so torn between morality and feeling like enduring sacrifice must be worth it.

I do like that she's still pro-god-eater too.

Oh??? Commune with Predathos??

Aw, but that's what Predathos would want her to think. That thing's will be fine for her. Anyone getting some Asmodeus vibes?

Apathy being no better than distain is something the Bells Hells know about the world. They weren't targeted. They were pawns.

"Angry at those who put it there"…. But Ruidus is a piece of Exandria. Would it be mad at that, I wonder? I'm genuinely curious whether Predathos would actively want to destroy Exandria or whether it will be mere collateral.

Oof. Yep. Don't tell Liliana about the back door.

God I love Liliana. Still got that love for Imogen. Still got that hate and defensiveness around the gods. I see Imogen genuinely reaching out to her mum, but also being a little passive-aggressive with it to try convince her. Clever.

Haha Chetney's passive-aggressive interogations are my favourite. Makes sense that Ludinus and the Weave Mind are separate entities with separate goals, even if they're using each other. Curious how the Weave Mind will deal with Predathos.

"Be the… mother hen to them." God I love Liliana. She's very intelligent in using herself to get her way. Thank you Laura Bailey for fascinating mother PCs.

Evoroa knows where Ludinus is??

Blunt polite Orym.

Genuinely, Liliana is more swayed by Predathos itself than I realised. Looking like a three-way gambit. Who -- Ludinus, Predathos, Weave Mind -- will win?

Cold, intimidating Ashton and cold, intimidating Liliana. Revealing.

This conversation with Liliana is everything I wanted.

And this is great with Imogen. They can use Liliana. It's not really about morality anymore.

Good question, Fearne, about the daughter abandonment. Oh. Ludinus visited her directly? I thought it was Otohan first. I mean, this is the sad thing. Liliana was vulnerable and swept into a cult, and we see how seemingly impossible it is to escape over a decade of belonging there. Who knows? Any one of the Bell's Hells could have been her.

Good, Laudna, keeping you guys going.

Aaaaaaah, Imogen. Tackling Liliana's priorities.

I like that Evoroa's coming with them. That'll be fun for Exandria.

I feel like we can never stop complimenting Matt's descriptions.

XD I mean, I'd panic too, being teleported into the middle of an encampment. Convenient though.

….Love the constant reminders of how INSANELY powerful Liliana is.

GOD, LILIANA, THAT BETTER BE A "I WISH I COULD GO WITH YOU" SORRY!

….Isn't the base of the Malleus Key super guarded too?

Time for another TPK!

Chetney/Travis is so smart. Using Otohan's stuff to pose as her underlings.

XD Ashton's wonderful CHA.

Laura might've rolled not great.

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO BAD DECEPTION CHECK!

Are they fucked?

Ooh maybe Keyleth's people attacked again?

Diolch byth (Welsh) -- thank god -- for Orym's insane passive perception.

FUCK they haven't even been able to talk about FCG yet.

Telepathy is so uncanny. So sick.

(HA! I've always wondered what it's like to wear a big costume like that. I've worn a unicorn head before but full body?)

What does Phantasmal Force do? OOOH the mind illusion thing! Pleeeeeeeease work.

I am deeply villainsexual. Intimidating Imogen makes me so gay.

GO LAUDNA! SUCCESS! Christ, they have no resources. What would have happened if they failed there?

HA! Is Ryn statue still there? Just casually drag her out, y'know.

The Ruby Vanguard is having a costume party, guys, don't judge the hotdogs.

Can they teleport still or are they going to have to find somewhere to long rest?

God, the graveyard of past battles around the Malleus Key is such great worldbuilding. Oh, god, even pikes and trophies? T_T Looking out for the Changebringer.

Keyleth's going to have a hell of a report after this. Do they remember they sent her lot to Issylra? Thank god Sending works again. XD Well, "works". User error aside.

HA! True spouse goals. Swapping Nat 1s.

T_T Marisha bringing the fan. I'm still so curious when/if Sam will reappear.

Props to Ashley reminding them about the exhaustion.

Fuck. FCG. I'm still so sad. Brilliant character. How do you even begin to process that? How can they reconcile this with FCG's martyr complex? These characters don't know about hit points. Who knows if they could've taken her down? Oh why does it feel better to be killed by Otohan than for him to go down killing her….

Imogen reckoning with Liliana vs. her mum. Even if Liliana doesn't support Ludinus, the question is how much that'll tangibly matter.

A lot of these guys have to question "what they were designed for". A lot of these guys were "made" for someone else. Aw, Laudna apologising for it: her and Delilah. And yeah, it's why Liliana is also a great, tragic reflection of the Bell's Hells.

Ashton's fantastic. Orym's fantastic. Chetney's fantastic. Fuck, the Ruby Vanguard have fucked them all up.

Awwwww Laudna and Imogen's little "I love you"s. The Bell's Hells are so special to me.

Chetney piecing things together around Aeor. I am curious how much Ludinus is interfacing with aeormatons, as opposed to other Aeor anti-god technologies.

Oh, Christ, Evoroa's been here the whole time. Bless. I wonder how crazy it must be on Exandria for her. Aw, love Chetney welcoming her. In his own way.

Haha "It's had some work done". Accurate, Ashton.

Are they going to go to Aeor?? Are they going to chase Ludinus there??

Evoroa's fun. Cool, so Predathos is in a glass and adamantine prison? I'm surprised it's in any way physical.

Yes. Sicc something and anything on Ludinus! I adore their energy. How does anyone survive contact with the BH?

THE MONSTER IS GOING TO BE BOLO FROM AEOR!

(Goddammit Twitch. Is anyone else getting a glitch when windows overtop of it make it skip forward?)

"STOP INTERRUPTING THE STORY!" Lore mood XD

Laura's face during Evoroa's story. Also mood.

I'm curious if Ludinus still plans to use or could use Fearne.

FRIDA TT_TT YUP EVERYTHING'S ALWAYS PAINFUL ALWAYS. Are they going to get a message from Christian?

Finally, Chetney checking up on Evoroa.

"I have a passive perception of 33. I heard it all." Is that higher than Vex'ahlia?

……………………How many bodies do they have in the hole at this point?

I can't imagine how physically shitty Ashton must feel on top of everything.

Laudna and Ashton have always had a great dynamic. Brings out the bluntness and wisdom(?) in both of them. Christ, Evoroa's going through it too.

Imogen and Orym have always had a great dynamic too. Both trying to keep things running, especially with each other. And the fact that Orym's not even out for revenge has always been fascinating… but it's still about the massive weight of Will and Derrig's deaths on his shoulders. He's a little guy, both literally and metaphorically, and god he's had to deal with so much, and the more they deal with, the more responsibility they get. I really like that, despite their potential conflicts, Imogen and Orym have always just wanted to get along. It's what I love about the Bell's Hells. They're genuinely broken but they genuinely love each other but they're genuinely broken but they genuinely love each other.

DORIAN SENDING! Was it just that he was asleep last time? I hope so. God, Orym/Liam's voice breaking breaks me.

#critical role #cr spoilers #critical role spoilers

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cornus27florida · 5 months

Text

Another LambCat reply at the IG! If what I predict gonna be true then I say the following CPC gotta become like this:

9 chapters left to wrap up everything (based on thumbnail of fastpass episodes and image leeks we have possibility: Blaine VS Frederick, and then with Prez; Prez becomes a were-spider, Maria finally forgives Frederick as she sent along the animals ensemble to help him 'running to the opposite direction of everyone, the reveal of the big bad wolf in Gwen's dream and the giant serpent in Frederick's dream, the stolen portrait be shown and thus relates to the third dying wish of Lilyth, continuation of Lilyth's story as her image still blurred although she's smiling + How Gwen wakes up from the slumber spell while Leland approaching)

Those things really hard to wrap up in merely 9 episodes - but I know LambCat could manage, with likely every episode has new OSTs? That's gonna be so amazing

'One Epilogue Episode' likely gotta be the episode 170 - which uploaded after the wrap up of everything till ep 169. There's so many 'loose ends of plot points along the way' outside the Pastel Palace like: What does Nell see in her vision? What Isolde cooks in Plaid Kingdom? Does the unnamed elderly foot guard that wants to opening up the limoncello gotta be important like deus ex machina? How Jack reacts after seeing everything - and will he brings the Omniscient Clam? The future of relationships between Pastel and Plaid kingdom - especially Gwen and Frederick? What happened to the CPC as the entirety, as they're bursting in the Pastel Palace should already shows 'abnormal' they are to melts the iron barred door etc?

OEE could be anything but I feel it's likely gotta be timeskip - for how long? I somehow can't imagine for years (if that's the case we get Gwen and Frederick wedding, but I feel that's too soon and likely happen later as not in OEE) but in shorter time as the following:

Days: that means the wrap-up and cleaning up of Plaid mess -> we have Jack's reaction properly as his bubble burst out horribly with the worst betrayal by Leland

Weeks: the clean up is already done, then season changes to the winter and everything finally 'return to normalcy and peace' -> I imagine this gotta be the perfect opportunity to welcome Frederick (having him had Slumber Party!) properly as the newest member of the CPC, with Gwen likely that gives him the PANDA keychain and everyone at the CPC gets resolutions (like the hopes of curses could be broken, is not always with the 'cure-it-all' of true love's kiss but other things like self-love w/ hint of romance)

Months: the nice timeskip to shows resolution of things being established, relationships - CPC likely get renovated and established properly as proper instituion to helps the cursed people - Plaid Kingdom had rulership changes as the Plaid King got accountable to his crimes (who'll ruling? or if the rulership changes from monarch to anything else? Whatever it be, I just want the Plaid folks espc Plaid Princes to be happy) - Pastel Kingdom accepting the CPC existence properly and make adjustments for them, and already dealing with portaits stuffs espc Lilyth's. This gotta be the most wide but plausible timeskip to not skipping most of details instead going with years timeskip

Little Side Stories: I predict it gotta be like these https://cursed-princess.fandom.com/wiki/Template:EpisodeList:BonusEpisodes

How many is unpredictable, but if could crazily speculates:

A retake of Red Riding Hood, but with Prince Blaine as Red Riding Hood, his mother Queen Isolde as the woodcutter, and Princess Maria as the wolf. -> the resolution of Maria/Blaine relationship, they might not be together but I want both to be happy as Blaine be 'free' and Maria chases her dream

A retake of Jack and the Beanstalk, but with Princess Lorena as Jack, who climbs the huge beanstalk to the place on the clouds where Prince Lance, the giant, resides. -> the resolution of Lorena/Lance relationship, they might not be together but I want both to be happy as Lorena finally leads her kingdom's army and Lance be the leader of Plaid army

A retake of Hansel and Gretel, with Prince Jamie as Hansel, finding a gingerbread house owned by a lonely witch. -> I feel if Jamie meets the witch again, he'll said his thanks to her as Gwen is saved with her info - and he grows closer to Leopold

Prince Frederick dreams about one of his favorite fairytales, about a man stuck in a hole being lifted up by an angel of fortune - but he's the man stuck in a hole, and the angel of fortune is Princess Gwendolyn. Frederick dreams about becoming the hero of the Dogyssey, encountering monsters along the way to reach his angel of fortune.

Frederick is very unique as the character that had two bonus episode with the theme of him as the protagonist of his fave tale and Gwen becomes his angel of the fortune. I predict if we get 'little bonus episode' it's gotta be a retelling of the tiniest prince which shows his journey so he could return to his lover - the rose - the Angel of the Fortune - Gwendolyn

The CPC members that didn't attend Gwendolyn's Dinner Party try to entertain themselves - and Saffron asks the backstory behind Jolie's curse. Jolie's story starts in her homeland, the Lace Kingdom, which was 'saved' by a mysterious dealer... Jolie's curse story is concluded when the mysterious dealer asks for his end of the bargain...

If the Omniscient Clam isn't omnious and won't asks dubious price for being asked, I say it's gotta be deus ex machina that helps the CPC members to breaks their curse. I find it's gotta be interesting little stories as each member has chance to learn more about their curse and how to breaks it. I am stand to belief that every curse could be broken somehow, by learning more about the nature of the curse first - and, the cure isn't always to be "the true love's kiss" but other else...

Curses can be cut short (or lifted or broken) by:

Giving back a stolen item, apologizing, or otherwise setting right the original offense. = meet the curser basically

Completing an Impossible Task.

Dying and coming back, usually as part of finding a loophole in the curse. = only could work if there's time travel element

Passing it on to someone else, like a bad penny.

Killing the curser or otherwise getting them to die. (Not effective in cases of a Dying Curse.)

Beat the Curse Out of Him: A less drastic tactic. Results vary. For a country, putting the rightful king on the throne. (This may or may not fall under the first as well.)

The Power of Love. Sometimes this simply requires actually being loved by someone else, sometimes it requires the person to receive True Love's Kiss to seal the deal. Furthermore, many curses are susceptible to the Power of Love even if it's not supposed to be a condition of the curse

+ act of kindness and love: Elsa's curse is broken by Anna's act of kindness, Kirana from golden snail tale simply by reunion meeting w/ her loved one = not by true love's kiss

#cursed princess club #Predictions #long text sorry

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babstheyaga · 6 months

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I wonder how would the Autobot gonna deal with reader girly who flirt and tryna rizz them up whenever she got scared and nervous over the whole situation. Instead of crying she went "Sir/ma'am are you something embarrassing I did years ago? Cause' I think about you every night." Follow by awkward finger guns and wobbly smile👉🥺👉

me rn with you guys

I imagine reader would be very... Very bad at flirting.

I'll put you over my knee. BumbleBee threatened, pointing a finger at my face.

"W-What so I can sit on your lap? Take-Take me on a date first!" I said back, sweating bullets.

His brows twitched inward, his finger slowly curling back to his palm in confusion. O-... Okay? I um... He reached a awkward hand to his chin to scratch his beard in thought and worry. Tomorrow? 5 PM? Um... Movies?

"Pick someone." Optimus told me, gesturing to the group of scattered terrorists, the Autobots.

I looked around for a short moment, but finally looked back up to him. "Are you one of-of the options? L-Like a menu or something? Because you're the whole-whole restaurant!"

I was then shot 34 times in the chest with a glock 19.

"Just get over it, sour puss... At least you get a person..." Arcee was frustrated, rightfully so.

"I'll-I'll gladly share myself with you!" I interrupted, my hands bound behind me.

Arcee stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes wide and a look of pure shock on her slightly angered face.

I smiled a fake, nervous toothy grin, but all she did was stare at me.

When she was able to move, she searched her cargo pants frantically, "Shit, I-I-I think I left my oven off - My-My keys are gonna burn in the microwave - I-I gotta go -"

"Jesus, Mirage, the fuck you do to 'er?!" Jazz laughed at Mirage. The two exchanged a chuckle and fist bump, I made room for the silver-fox to sit next to me in the booth.

"You... You can smell me?" I asked, curious.

"We all can honey." Mirage replied. I blinked over to him, feeling a lot more exposed than I wanted to...

"W-Well... If I smell good, you-you should smell you-you two! It's like love at first sight, but-but with... Smell..." I said, fiddling with my fingers at top speed.

The both of them paused for a short moment, then broke into a fit of laughter. Mirage's hand landed on my thigh, Jazz wrapped a hand around my shoulder, the both of them leaning into me as their laughs came to a calm.

"That the best you got lil momma?" Jazz teased, his voice somehow going lower.

"Yeah babe, that was pretty weak... Wanna try that again?"

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theteasetwrites · 2 years

Text

Mother's Day

❧ Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female Reader ❧ Era: during Season 9 time jump (The Beginning Is the End Is the Beginning series) ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: none! ❧ Word Count: 1.6k

❧ Summary: Your husband and daughter take Mother's Day very seriously.

❧ A/N: This is my first oneshot that takes place in The Beginning universe! You don't need to read the entire series to understand what's going on, but it might help! Basically, Reader and Daryl have been together for about six years. They have a three-year-old daughter named Robin, and Dog is currently a puppy. Everything is pretty good in Alexandria at this time, so this is literally just a sweet little Mother's Day-themed oneshot for the series. Enjoy, and happy Mother's Day!

Holidays in Alexandria were few and far between, that’s for sure.

Christmas was too extravagant to celebrate in any meaningful capacity, besides a small dinner and an exchange of a few gifts, Halloween was non-existent, as the world was already scary enough without people dressing up as vampires or witches, and Thanksgiving was almost everyday, since not a day went by when the citizens of Alexandria weren’t thankful to be alive.

But the simple holidays, the ones that honored the more mundane aspects of life, were much easier to celebrate.

Birthdays were routine, as you now had the birthdate of almost every citizen of Alexandria marked on your calendar, and other holidays, like Mother’s Day and Father’s Day, somehow wormed their way into the small cultural zeitgeist that had formed the past several years of Alexandria’s relatively peaceful existence.

You were still getting used to the concept of being a mother. You’d been one for the better part of three years, with Robin only a few weeks away from turning four in late May. Still, no matter how many times the little girl called out “Mommy” or “Momma,” you felt like you were living in the Twilight Zone. A very, very nice part of the Twilight Zone, without the eeriness of Rod Serling’s haunting voice over black and white terror stories.

“Can I crack an egg, Daddy?” you heard your child ask her father as you groggily stepped down the stairs, rubbing your eyes and laughing to yourself at the idea of even Daryl cracking an egg.

“Jus’ watch me do it,” he said. “Eggs are tricky. And you gotta wash your hands or you’ll get sick.”

“Really?”

“Really. Raw egg ain’t good to eat. Give you a tummy ache, or worse.”

You turned the corner to feast your eyes on the sight: Daryl in his best shirt and jeans, Robin still in her white hooded onesie (with rabbit ears and tail, no less), and Dog, your rather rambunctious puppy, clumsily tilting his head side to side as he watched Daryl instruct Robin. She stood upon her little kitchen step stool, barely allowing her to see over the edge of the counter.

“But they’re okay to eat after you cook ‘em?” she asked curiously.

“Mhm,” he said, concentrating on the egg as he attempted to crack it above the mixing bowl. “We’re gonna mix these up and make scrambled eggs. Real easy. Why don’t you hand me that whisk, birdie?”

She followed his pointed finger to focus her gaze on the jar of utensils. “This thingy?” she asked, holding the whisk in her tight hand.

“Bingo,” he said, a proud smile forming on his face. Robin could do just about anything and it would still impress him. “Look at you, smartie pants. Already learnin’ a thing or two.”

She cradled her head in her hands as she watched him whisk the eggs, periodically spooning out eggshells he had missed. He wasn’t the greatest cook in the world (besides his blueberry pancakes, of course), but at least he tried.

“Can I wake Mommy up now?” she asked, and you snickered mischievously to yourself, shaking your head at how adorable the two of them were. Robin must’ve been dying to wake you up for at least an hour now, and Daryl must’ve been about ready to pull his hair out, dealing with the talkative, curious child. “Please?”

“Let ‘er wake up on ‘er own,” he said. In truth, he was hoping to have as much time as possible to prepare your Mother’s Day breakfast before you awoke. “She’ll be down soon enough.”

Dog’s ears perked up when he noticed your presence just before he bounded forward, each paw stumbling over the other. “Hi, buddy,” you laughed, kneeling down to pet him. “Hi, kiddos.”

Robin turned on her stool and nearly tripped as she stepped off, though Daryl quickly dropped his whisk in the mixing bowl to hold onto her before she sprinted across the modest-sized kitchen towards you. “Happy Mother’s Day!” she sang out as she threw her little arms around your shoulders.

“Aw, thank you, sweet pea.”

Her lips quickly pecked your cheek, and you swore you could feel her long, dainty eyelashes fluttering on your cheekbone. She pulled away with wide, expressive blue eyes, filled with about ten times the energy of you and Daryl combined.

“Daddy and I are making you breakfast,” she said, and jauntily pointed towards the myriad of pots and pans and dishes cluttering the stove. You only hoped Daryl also intended to clean the kitchen, too. “Dog’s helping, too.”

“Pfft,” scoffed Daryl. “Mangy mutt’s been trippin’ me all mornin’. Keeps gettin’ under my feet. He’s gonna need trainin’.”

“I’m not the one who brought him home…” you teased, scratching behind the canine’s ears as he exposed his belly to you on the kitchen floor. “So, what’s for breakfast, househusband?” You rose to wrap your arms around his waist, kissing his cheek as he rolled his eyes. You simply couldn’t help but be a little amused at the sight of Daryl cooking. It always warmed your heart.

“Scrambled eggs,” he said with a huff, pointing at each dish with his spatula as he listed it. “Bacon… Pancakes… Robin’s s’posed to be buttering up the English muffins.” He glowered playfully at the little girl, who was now scurrying around the dining room with the puppy. “Guess I lost my little chef.”

You laughed, squeezing his shoulder before eying the cutting board on which were Robin’s abandoned English muffins. Each of them were already split in half, but only one was buttered (rather sloppily, you might add), with a lone spoon holding a glob of homemade butter.

“You gave her a spoon to spread the butter?” you laughed. “Daryl, a butter knife won’t hurt her, you know.” You reached to open the silverware drawer, with the intent of buttering the muffins yourself, but Daryl dropped his spatula in the egg pan and grabbed your hand, guiding you away from the counter.

“No moms allowed in the kitchen,” he said. “Dads only.”

He quickly ushered you into the living room before frantically running back to check on the food, and Robin and Dog scurried out from the dining room to meet you at the couch, a crudely wrapped present in Robin’s hands.

“We got you a present,” she said bashfully.

Your eyes widened as you gasped in exaggerated shock. “Oh, chipmunk, you guys didn’t have to get me anything! I have everything I could ever want and more.” You reached out to pinch her chubby cheeks. “But I do love presents… Can I open it?”

“Wait!” you heard Daryl call out from the kitchen. “Wait for me!”

He hurried out with a rag in his hands as he tried to wipe the bacon grease from his fingers.

You patted the couch cushion beside you, urging Robin to sit next to you while you opened her present. Daryl took the invitation, too, sitting himself on the other side of you. He seemed almost more excited than the three-year-old.

“Open it,” he said with an uncharacteristically large grin. “You’re gonna love it.”

“I know,” you said excitedly, tearing open the wrapping paper, made from old newspaper. “I can’t wait to…”

Your voice trailed off as the picture came into view. It was a small, framed canvas, upon which was a childlike family portrait of yourself, Daryl, Robin, and Dog, with your blue house in the backdrop, complete with your pink rose bushes and the little wooden sign you had nailed to the picket fence years ago: DIXONS, it read.

You beamed at the attention to detail, how each stick figure still looked familiar. Even Daryl’s shoulder-length brown hair was drawn with stunning accuracy.

Framing the canvas were four worn pieces of wood, mismatched and yet somehow fitting perfectly together. You could already tell Daryl had put the frame together himself, especially since upon the bottom piece was the word DIXONS carved meticulously into the wood, in case anyone forgot that you were, in fact, Dixon’s.

Robin’s little signature, with her initials, R.E.D, were painted in small, green letters in the bottom right corner.

“Oh, I love it!” you practically squealed, a lump forming in your throat as the tears began to well up in your eyes. “Thank you, babies.” You pressed a small kiss to Robin’s head as your arm pulled her close to your side. She snuggled up happily, watching her mother press a different kind of kiss to her father’s lips. “This means so much to me. I’m going to hang it over the fireplace.”

“Nah,” said Daryl, surprising you for a moment. Surely he’d want to hang such a prized piece of Robin Dixon’s original artwork above his mantle? He stood up to remove the Alfonso Mucha painting that was already hanging above the fireplace. “I’ll hang it. Moms don’t work today.”

That evening, you watched the sunset with Daryl, swaying lazily on the porch swing as he held you close, the usual procedure. Only today, it was a little different—it was your day, and when he held you, he reminded you of how thankful he was for you, how much he respected you for bringing his child into the world, and how great of a mother you were.

Thanks for reading! Likes, reblogs, and comments of any kind are always appreciated!

Masterlist

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fic #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead fanfic #twd fanfic #twd #twd fanfiction #norman reedus #norman reedus fanfiction #norman reedus fanfic #norman reedus x reader #the beginning #the beginning series

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